Page 19 of Yours Truly, Fall

“That’s probably best.”

I take the phone from beside me on the couch and scroll through some numbers until I see the one I want and stab it with my finger.

My mom, who looks as flustered as this situation is, moves into the kitchen. “Let me get everyone a glass of water while we’re waiting.”

Waiting . . .

Waiting for the hospital to answer.

Waiting to find out what the hell is going on.

Waiting for this woman to stab us to death . . . “Mountain Laurel Cove Hospital, how may I direct your call?”

“Hi, this is Brandon Culver. I was released earlier⁠—”

“Yes, Mr. Culver. This is Stacy. I was one of your nurses. You weren’t awake when I was your attending nurse, but we’re familiar.” My eyebrow rises in reaction. Maybe they’re all like this. “How can I help you? Is everything alright?”

“I’m fine. But I currently have a little situation going on.” I keep my eyes on the rogue redhead as she inspects her cuticles, tapping her foot like I’m putting her out. I lower my voice and hold the phone closer to my mouth. “A nurse showed up at my house.” Autumn’s eyes dart to mine and narrow. “I think she’s in distress and needs⁠—”

“What?” she shouts, running for the phone. Lunging toward me, I hold the phone just out of her grasping hands. Tipping over the back of the couch, she tries to grab the phone from my hand. “Distress? Are you insa⁠—”

“I need help.”

Falling face down in my lap, she pushes off so fast that she lands on her ass, gasping for air like a fish flailing on the docks. “Hang up, Brandon!”

I maneuver myself to peek over the couch just as she pops up and grabs the phone from my hand. Devious little thing. “Hello?” she says, getting to her feet and walking away from me. “Stacy? It’s Autumn . . . Yes, that’s right . . . He’s fine⁠—”

“Help me, Stacy,” I yell just as she starts down the hall with my phone.

“He doesn’t need help, but the concussion might be worse than we realized,” she says nice and loud for me to hear before a door is shut, and I can’t hear any of the lies she’s telling them.

My mom hands me a glass of water. “What in tarnation is going on, Brandon?”

“You tell me, Mom. You’re hugging on her like she’s⁠—”

“There seems to be a misunderstanding,” Autumn says, returning with the confidence of a lunatic who got away with murder. With my phone still in her hand, she crosses her arms over her chest. “I’m here as a caretaker. This was all arranged through the hospital and your insurance.”

My mom moves around the couch to hand her a glass of water, which she takes and slowly sips as a natural-born predator would right before eliminating their prey. Calculated—Why the fuck am I still sitting here? I tuck the covers on the right side of my leg because, apparently, somewhere in my concussed state, I must have decided that would protect me. Fuck. I’m a sitting duck.

Standing by Autumn’s side, my mom looks pleased watching her take the calculated, murderous sip. Mom asks, “You’re the home healthcare provider, Autumn?”

Autumn saunters back to her suitcase, still holding my phone hostage. She can’t seem to bother hiding the satisfied smirk she’s currently directing at me. “Day and night for one full week.” I’m in trouble. She digs through her bag and pulls out papers. “The job requires twenty-four-hour, seven-days-a-week supervision.” The job? I’m just a job to her. Just grand . . .

My mom cups her hands together, the loud clap ripping my attention in her direction. “That is absolutely splendid, dear.” She shoots me a look with a smile blinding the rest of her expression. “Autumn will be here taking care of you for the week. Isn’t that wonderful news, Son?”

“Yeah,” I reply, staring back at the traitor I formerly called Mom. “Just wonderful.” And to think I was contemplating giving this woman the pleasure of seeing me shirtless, and then she shows up out of nowhere when I happen to be half naked. I eye her, not quite sure I should let my guard down just yet.

“I couldn’t agree more.” Her hair has fallen from the elastic she was wearing during the scuffle over the phone, I assume, and she tucks some strands behind her ears on approach. She drops the papers on my chest and says, “Here’s the contract for the week so you’ll understand exactly what my duties are, and what they are not.” Pulling the bag handles to her shoulder again and gripping the suitcase, she starts toward the hall again. “Now that we’ve got that all settled, where will I be sleeping?”

CHAPTER 9

AUTUMN

Brandon’s bed is huge. King-sized.

After the way he handled my arrival, the size of the bed fits his ego. But where does the rest of him sleep?

“I’ll be here all week, folks,” I whisper to myself, laughing as I punch the pillow to get it into shape for him. I walk around to the other side to grab the other pillow, feeling like I just clocked enough steps for a 5k to get here. This bed makes my queen size look small in comparison.