Page 5 of Knotting Autumn

I wanted Thorne to reach for me. I wanted him to grab me and kiss me and stick his hands down my pants and strip me bare while we writhed on the floor—what?

My breathing shortened into pants, my mouth going dry.

I had to get out of there.

“I’ll be right back,” I lied, shoving myself away from the counter and dashing wildly for the back of the store. Tumbling through the staff door, I clutched my chest.

A wave of nausea rolled over me, and I fought the urge to sink to the ground. What was wrong with me? Was it food poisoning from the muffin this morning? Or did Thorne do something to me? Maybe he was some sort of poison dart frog and touching his skin poisoned me.

Margie leaped up, rubbing comforting circles into my upper back while bracing my upper arm with her other hand. Her voice sounded far away.

“Autumn, are you okay? Did something happen?”

My thoughts swirled, and I struggled to find the words to answer. Everything in me was screaming to go back to the front of the shop to Thorne, but that was insane.

I was sick, and I couldn’t puke in front of customers.

“I— They— There are guests. Something’s wrong with me. A panic attack, I think?”

Margie’s brows wrinkled. “Why don’t you go sit down? I’ll take care of the customers.”

My entire body shook. Somehow, I didn’t think sitting down and doing some deep breathing was going to help. I needed distance.

“I gotta go home. I’m gonna throw up.”

Without waiting for Margie to reply, I snagged my purse and snuck out the back rolling doors, across the small parkinglot and the empty field to avoid the front of the store and Thorne’s relentless gaze.

Chapter 3

Autumn Loses Her Mind

I was still buzzing like someone had plugged a live wire right into my central nervous system. My skin felt stretched and sensitive, like I’d gotten sunburned and now every brush of fabric over my raw nerves ached.

My emotions were running so high, I wanted to curl into a ball and pretend the rest of the world didn’t exist—or find one of those sensory deprivation tanks. I wasn’t sure our small town had any of those. Maybe that was a good business opportunity. Probably not.

Worst of all, I was soaked between my thighs. It was bad enough I was a little worried that I’d peed myself, but from the tingles racing through my vagina, it seemed to be sexual in nature.

What the hell?

Each step rubbed my thighs together, and I felt like I was going to combust. I needed… I needed a cold shower and my vibrator, not in that order.

My hands shook as I unlocked our apartment door and shoved it open. Sawyer glanced up from his spot on the couch,his face already pinched into a look of concern, almost like he’d sensed my distress before even seeing me.

He often seemed to sense my moods, probably because we’d been best friends for so long. Unfortunately, that meant I couldn’t fool him.

Forcing myself to look somewhat normal, I closed the door behind me and crossed the room. Sawyer leapt to his feet, stepping into my path.

“What’s the matter?” he asked, his voice gentle. His hands came up to grab my upper arms.

I sucked in a breath at the contact. That simple touch set me off, and images of Thorne flashed through my mind, followed by a blur of skin, fingers, lips, sweat…

“Um, something weird happened at work,” I started, my voice unnaturally high and rough. “I don’t even know what to think about it. I’m just a little freaked out.”

Sawyer went rigid. His nostrils flared, his lids dropping.

“No, nothing bad. Just weird. I need to figure it out, and then I can explain better. I don’t even know. I don’t know what to do with myself.” My last few words shook and shuddered.

“It’s okay, you don’t need to explain anything.”