Today replays in my mind. Images of Roxy and Reggie laughing and having a good time brings a smile to my face. And then there’s their dad—Julius. I’m smitten, and I like him, but I feel like he’s holding back. I knew he was on the phone with his ex because Reggie told me that Roxy called me dad’s girlfriend to his mom, and she sounded mad. I get it to an extent, but if I’m not mistaken, she cheated on Julius. He’s the one who’s entitled to be mad. When he came into the restaurant, I wanted to ask him if everything was okay. There wasn’t any time. The kids never left our sides, and when they did, we followed them everywhere. Even when Julius and I had a rematch at air hockey, the kids were right next to the table.
The alarm on my phone goes off, and I groan. Mostly because my phone is on the other side of the bathroom, and I have to get out regardless. Plus, I don’t remember setting my alarm to remind me I have something planned for later. My body is stiff and only slightly relaxed. I need to book a massage and maybe start using the hot tub we have in the building. I have yet to venture to the gym here, opting to run outside while the weather is still somewhat decent. With my towel wrapped around me, I make my way to the phone and silence it before going back to the tub to pull the plug. While the water drains, I check my calendar—dinner with Peyton.
“Huh, I can’t believe I forgot.” When Peyton invited me to dinner a few nights ago, I couldn’t say yes fast enough, and yet, it somehow slipped my mind. I glance at myself in the mirror and lean forward to get a better look. I tug at the skin under my eyes and wonder if the night cream I use is doing its job in preventing wrinkles. “I need to book a facial,” I mutter to my reflection. “And a haircut.”
Standing there and staring at myself isn’t doing anything for my self-confidence. Work keeps me busy, and the free time I’ve had recently I’ve spent with Julius. Today would’ve been a perfect time to go to the spa and eliminate some of the stress I’m feeling but spending time with him and his children is important. Finding a healthy balance is a must.
In my room, I slip into a pair of sweatpants and an oversized sweatshirt. I have a couple of hours before my dinner date with Peyton and the book I started many moons ago sits on my nightstand, mocking me. I pick it up and head into the living room, stopping to pull a throw blanket out of the basket I use to store them in. Curling up on the sofa, I open the book to the last page I’d marked and start reading. None of this makes sense. I’m in the middle of the chapter, reading about two characters that I don’t remember. Determined to keep going, I flip back to the front and start over. I’ve read half of the book, so I must’ve found it interesting and figure I can skim if I begin to remember the content.
Halfway through my reread, there’s a knock at my door. Ignoring the knock seems like the best thing for me to do since it’s likely someone from my floor selling their steak knives or boxes of popcorn. This is a drawback to living in such a large building—everyone is a door-to-door salesperson. It’s the little kids that I can’t say no to though, and they know it.
The knock sounds again. I set my book down, get up and tiptoe to my door to look through the peephole. It’s Julius, standing there with his hand on the wall and looking down at the floor.
“What is he doing here?” I whisper, thinking I might answer myself.
“Autumn,” he says as if he can sense I’m standing on the other side of the door. “It’s me. Are you home?”
“Shit.” I step back and straighten out my ratty clothes and smooth my hair back. I really need to put a mirror up by my door for occasions like this. The man I’m wholly interested in is about to see me in my most relaxed state. I’m not sure how I feel about this. With a twist of the door handle, I open the door to face Julius.
His head rises slowly, and a smile spreads across his face at a gradual pace. My knees go weak, forcing me to use the door to keep upright. How can a smile cause such a reaction?
“Hey,” he says as I sag into the door for more stability. I thought I was smitten, but I’m not. I’m falling for him, and I’m not sure I can find a way to stop.
“Hey.”
“I wanted to stop by and give you this.”
Before I can ask what “this” is, he steps forward, cups my cheeks between his large hands, and presses his lips to mine. My mouth opens for him, beckoning him deeper. For some reason, my hand can’t let go of the door, but my other one bunches his shirt into my fist, and I tug, wanting him to come in so I can close the door.
Julius pulls away, but only for a second before his lips are on mine again. I moan, needing more. He grins against my lips and chuckles. “I can’t stay, but believe me, I want to.”
“What? Why?” I sound desperate, and maybe I am. From the second I laid eyes on Julius, I’ve been attracted to him, even when he was a colossal jerk. The allure has only grown stronger the more time we spend together, and when he kisses me, I lose what’s left of my self-resolve.
“I have a game tomorrow.”
“And that means, what?”
He laughs again. “We have rules. They’re odd but have to be followed nonetheless.”
“Well, I, for one, am not following anything you’re saying.”
Julius looks confused. I’m not sure why since I’m not the one speaking in circles. “I guess I assumed Peyton had told you that the NFL requires us to stay in a hotel the night before a home game.”
What on earth? “Why?”
“It’s all part of our player agreement. We have funky rules. I don’t make them, but I abide by them.”
“Huh,” is all I can manage to say. “So, you came over here to kiss me like that and leave?”
He looks at me oddly and scratches the back of his neck. “Yeah, I guess so. Want me to do it again?” Julius leans toward me. I put my hand on his chest to stop him. He smirks and pushes a bit but finally gives up.
“You’re mean,” I tell him.
“I’m sorry. Can I make it up to you?”
“How?”
He shrugs. “Come to the game tomorrow?”
“How is me coming to your game making it up?”
Julius shrugs again and decides that batting his eyelashes might get him his desired answer. He’s right, it probably will, but I need to find the strength to ignore his wily ways.
“It’s not. It’s a way for me to see you again tomorrow. I’m going to be honest here. I’d like to see you at my game. I can leave a ticket for you at will call.”
“I have to work tomorrow, but I’ll keep it in mind.”
“Okay,” he says as he places his hand on my waist. He pulls me in for a kiss. It’s short but full of intent. There’s no question in my mind about how we feel toward one another. “If I don’t see you tomorrow, I’ll call you when I get home.”
“Good luck.”
“Thanks.” Julius kisses me again and then rushes down the hall. I stand in the doorway, watching him. When he gets to the elevator, he yells, “Get back inside before I come back there.”
I shake my head and close the door. I stay here, leaning against it with my fingers touching my lips. Julius’s scruff has left a little bit of razor burn, and I like it probably more than I should.