Page 3 of Stuffed

“Autumn,” she replied.

I froze. Every muscle in my body went tense and a spike of adrenaline hit me like a splash of cold water to the face.

“Autumn?” I repeated.

It can’t be…

But as I gazed into her beautiful face, I saw something there…something familiar.

She nodded, unaware of what was going on.

I looked closer.

Oh no…

Her hair was different. It had been brown before. She must have dyed it blonde. And she was…developed. She’d lost her baby fat and matured into an absolute beauty, and I knew then that I’d walked into something I had no idea how to handle.

“Autumn Beuller?” I asked, praying I was wrong. But when I saw the look she gave me, I knew I wasn’t.

“H—how did you know that?” she asked.

I sat up as more adrenaline poured through me.

“I—I have to go,” I replied as I quickly got to my feet. I walked away from the bench as quickly as I could. I heard her intake of breath like she wanted to call out after me, but she said nothing.

I was fucked.

I’d just met the girl of my dreams, and it just so happened that she was Randy’s daughter—the daughter of my best friend and boss.

But even as I walked away from her, I knew that I’d never be able to shake the hold she had on me.

I knew I was screwed.

Chapter Two

Autumn

Thanksgiving Day…

“Autumn!” my mom called for the third time. “Will you come down here please?”

The “please” was just for show. What she really meant was, “Autumn, will you come down here before I kill you and serve you for Thanksgiving dinner?”

“Coming, Mom!” I called back as I threw on a shirt that was nice enough for Thanksgiving cooking but not quite nice enough to eat in. I’d put on the extra nice stuff later.

I left my phone upstairs. My dad had a strict no phone policy during family events, and honestly, it was going to be nice to be away from it for a while. The world was so chaotic these days and keeping up to date with everyone’s drama and life events was pretty exhausting.

Besides, I had my own problems to worry about…

Like last night.

What had happened there? Not only had I completely shocked myself by throwing myself at a stranger and done things with him that I’d never done with anyone, but then he’d just run away from me like he’d found out I was a local mass murderer or that I have the plague or something.

I was regretting what I had done, but hating myself for regretting it at the same time. I mean, what was I supposed to do? He was gorgeous, like he’d just jumped off the cover of a romance novel you saw in the grocery store by the magazines.

He was obviously a working man and looked like he’d just come down from the mountains or something. His hair was long, like Jason Momoa’s, his hands were rough, and his skin was tan. He had muscles on top of muscles, and compared to the freshman boys I went to school with, he was a man.

He was definitely older than me, but I hadn’t cared.

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