Page 4 of Stuffed

Actually, that’s not true. I had cared—I’d loved it.

I never had any luck with boys in high school. They were all so skinny and awkward and weird that I just had no interest. I wanted someone who could overpower me, take control, and put up with my sass.

But they were all too wimpy to do anything. All they wanted to do was text and talk about the things they wanted to do to me but never would because they didn’t have the balls. I thought things would be better once I got to college…

…but, sadly, it was just more of the same.

Some of the senior guys were a bit more rugged, but they were usually jocks who were total womanizing scumbags, not someone you settle down with. And that was what I was looking for.

I didn’t want a hook up or an arrangement or “something casual.” I wasn’t into polyamory or open relationships; I just wanted a man.

Was that too much to ask?

Apparently it was these days, because just when I thought I’d found one and was going way out of my comfort zone with him and was ready to let him have his way with me on the frickin’ park bench, he’d run away from me like my lips were poison or I hadn’t showered in ten days.

Something about my name spooked him…I thought as I came downstairs to find my parents busy in the kitchen.

“There she is!” my dad smiled from the counter, where he had his hands all up inside a turkey. “Happy Thanksgiving, honey.”

“Happy Thanksgiving!” I said, pretending that I was just happy and not completely distracted by what had happened last night.

Truth be told, I’d barely slept and had spent the night tossing and turning trying to think about something other than Jim’s chiseled jaw, veiny biceps, or the firm bulge he was pressing into my legs as he laid on top of me.

Eventually, I’d had to have some “me time” just so I could fall asleep, and even then, I’d only managed to get four hours. But I apparently didn’t look like a zombie. My mom definitely would have let me know if I did.

“What are you doing to that turkey, Pa?” I asked with a smile.

“Hey, Autumn,” he asked with a smirk. “Why did the police arrest the turkey?”

I sighed. If there was a king of dad jokes, it was my dad.

“Why?”

“Because they suspected fowl play!”

He burst out laughing, loving his joke so much that I had to laugh too. My mom covered her face to hide her giggles, but he saw right through her.

“Thank you, thank you,” he boasted. “I’ll be here all night!”

“Could you help me with the stuffing, honey?” my mom asked, handing me a knife and a couple celery stalks. “Chop those up and then add the raisins for me?”

“Okay, Ma,” I smiled. My mom couldn’t use a knife if her life depended on it, and I could see how happy she was to have me back from school to be her little helper.

I grabbed the cutting board and set up next to my dad and started chopping the celery, but all I could do was think about last night. I had to stop cutting three times just to make sure I didn’t end up slicing the tip of my finger off.

“Something wrong, honey?” my mom asked. Nothing got by her.

“Huh? No,” I shook my head. “Just…haven’t used a knife in a while.”

“All that dining hall food,” my mom replied. “I do hope you’re eating well.”

“I am,” I lied. Hamburgers, ramen, and mac-n-cheese had become my staples since going to school. I definitely wasn’t getting my veggies like she reminded me in her weekly e-mails.

I handed her the pile of celery, got the raisins from the cupboard, and handed them to her. Just then, there was a ring at the door.

“Oh, there he is!” my dad said happily, removing his hands from the turkey and quickly washing them off in the sink.

“He?” I asked. “He who?”

---