Page 59 of The Love Playbook

She seems like this breezy, woo-woo, boho chick. All love and light and modern hippie vibes with her oils and crystals and her scent a mix of flowers and incense.

But she has a hidden edge. A sharpness lying just beneath the surface show of softness. There’s far more to her than she shows to the world. I’m certain there’s plenty more she hasn’t shown me.

I’m hoping one day she will. And I have to confess that some part of me sort of hoped I’d get more insight into her by helping her with this task too. That’s never been the main motivator, of course. I really do want to pay her back for her help. Or at least that was the original impetus.

Now it’s a mix of that, plus wanting to spend more time with her and get to know her better.

So this newfound determination when she’s been unenthusiastic about reorganizing her room … I don’t entirely trust it.

“Alright,” I say slowly, crossing my arms. “Once you’ve put your daily use items in that bin, my plan is to group like things together. So all your little bottles will go in a bin, all your crystals will go in a bin, your jewelry in another—”

She holds up a hand, cutting me off. “Look, I get that you want to help, and I appreciate it—”

“The bins are just preliminary,” I cut in, not letting her finish her protest. I can already see where this is going. “We have to clear things off so we know what we’re working with, space wise, and can make the best use of what you have. Plus some of it will go on the walls. Your necklaces, for example. We can put some hooks up to hold those for you so you can easily find what you need. They’re still out where you can see them, but they’re not taking up shelf space or getting tangled in a drawer or box.”

She blinks at me in surprise, but then nods. “Okay. I guess that makes sense.”

Her brows pull together in a thoughtful frown as she looks around again.

“Plus,” I continue, “as we group things together, we can get rid of empties and expired things so you’re not wasting space on trash.”

“Alright.” And this time she sounds more accepting. “I can see the benefit of that. I’m not great at keeping up with that kind of thing.”

“And once you have a good system in place, it’s a lot easier to find and purge the things you don’t use or need after a while too. Getting set up is the hard part. But that’s why I’m here to help.”

She flashes me a grin. “Alright. Point taken. We all need help with our weaknesses, right? That’s what this is. I help you with something I have experience and abilities in. You help me. Win win.”

“Exactly.” I have to pretend that her reducing everything between us to a transaction doesn’t sting, even though that’s exactly how I pitched this. I shouldn’t be surprised or hurt that she views it that way. She’s been very clear on where she stands about us from the beginning. It’s my fault that she had to spell it out for me in no uncertain terms a couple weeks ago. And it’s my fault I’m still holding onto hope for more.

Apparently that’s what she needs to get started, though, because she moves through the room, her hand held out like she’s getting some kind of magical reading from her things before selecting a collection of items to put in the bin in her hand. There are a few of the glass bottles, another scrunchie and some hair clips, a couple of small pots that look like the type of lip balm my sister used for a while, and a tube of hand cream.

“Done?” I ask, holding out my hands for the bin. With a nod, she passes it to me. I set it on the bed and pull out another bin. “Okay. Time for grouping things. I’ll do all the glass bottles, since they’re obvious. When we’re deciding the best place for them, I’ll have you categorize them more so that you can find what you need when you need it.”

She shoots me a look of uncertainty, and with a laugh, I lean down and kiss her on the lips. “Don’t worry, Autumn. I’m not trying to turn you into something you’re not. I’m just trying to help you be the best version of yourself.”

She blinks up at me, looking thunderstruck. I’m not really sure what about that exchange is so astonishing, but before I can do more than give her a quizzical look, she smiles brightly at me.

“Sounds great!” she chirps, more enthusiastic than necessary under the circumstances, but I recognize deflection when I see it.

If I get the chance, I might push more on that later. But for now, we have a job to do.

* * *

“I really hope you don’t have a lot of homework,” Autumn says a few hours later. She’s lying on her back on the bed, one arm thrown over her face. “Because that was exhausting. And if you don’t come lie down next to me, I’ll be forced to drag you onto the bed for your own good, and I don’t know if I have the energy to do that.”

Chuckling, I climb onto the bed, crawling over her and dropping a kiss on her lips. We’ve spent the last few hours going through everything in her room. Well, notquiteeverything. She wouldn’t let me organize her drawers or her closet, despite the fact that when I discovered she just tosses all her socks and underwear willy-nilly into her drawer without separating or pairing them at all, I literally pulled the drawer out and dumped its contents onto the bed so I could fix it.

With a laugh, she forbade me from organizing her clothes, scooped everything back into the drawer, and reseated it in the dresser, pushing it closed. Every time she caught me looking at it, she’d laugh, remind me it was off limits, and direct my attention elsewhere.

She lets her arm fall over her head, a sultry smile curving the lips I just kissed, her brown eyes blinking up at me. This close up I can see flecks of gold and almost black laying over the dark chocolate brown.

Letting out a breath, I part her thighs with my knees and settle over her, brushing her hair out of the way and propping myself up on my elbows.

She brings her hands to my face, her thumb smoothing over my lips. “What am I gonna do with you, Jackson?” she whispers.

I get the feeling that she’s asking herself the question, even though it was directed at me. Lifting one shoulder in a half shrug, I give her a cheeky grin. “Kiss me some more?”

Her eyes meet mine, and her smile grows wider. “I think I can handle that.”

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