Autumn Rolls a Seven by Jasinda Wilder

Author:Jasinda Wilder [Wilder, Jasinda]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781948445573
Publisher: Jasinda Wilder

8

Saturday, eight in the morning. Sacred time. No alarms, don’t call me, I’m not working out, I’m not meeting you for breakfast. I’m sleeping in, eating a bagel slathered with cream cheese, and drinking a whole pot of coffee by myself. Watching stupid reality TV shows I’ve saved all week.

Except, my phone rang. I ignored it, rolled over, go back to sleep. It ranf again, and I groaned. Fumbled for it on my nightstand.

I perked up when I saw the ID of the caller: 7; yes, I have him saved in my phone as the numeral.

I cleared my throat, wiped sleep crusties out of my eyes. Because did I mention he was FaceTiming me? Lay down, fluffed my hair just so.

I answered. “Hey.”

He was outside; in a car, it looked like. Something convertible. He had classic black Ray-Bans on, a black ball cap on backward, a tuft of hair peeking through the snapback opening. “Rise and shine, morning glory. We’ve got a date.”

I did my best to look as annoyed as I would be if he were anyone else waking me up on a Saturday morning. “It’s eight o’clock in the morning. On Saturday.”

“I’ve been up for two and a half hours already.”

I rolled my eyes. “Yippee for you. God, you aren’t one of those people are you? Get up at the perforated colon of dawn every single goddamn day, acting all chipper and joyful and yammering on about how much you’ve already accomplished with your fucking day.”

He chuckled, a gravelly rumble. “No. I’ve just habitually gotten up at five thirty since I was in high school. That was the only time I could get to the gym to work the bag, because I had wrestling, football, or track after school. Wake up at the same time every day for long enough, and the body just does it on its own. Put me in a hammock on the beach on a deserted island, I’ll still wake up at five thirty.”

“I mourn for you.”

He laughed outright at that. “Thanks, I guess. I don’t know what I’m missing, though, since I’ve literally never slept in.”

“Never? Not once?”

He shrugged. “I mean, not really. I may not always get out of bed at five thirty, but I’m awake.”

“That’s really sad.” I heard myself talking but I had zero influence over what was coming out of my mouth. “I’ll teach you how to sleep in.”

“And I’ll teach you how to enjoy rising early.”

“Not likely.”

“Is this where you say better men than me have tried and failed?”

I snorted. “If there’s a better man than you, Seven St. John, I haven’t met him.”

He didn’t answer immediately. “I’m trying to figure out how to take that. Either you’re being sarcastic and that’s an insult, or you genuinely haven’t met anyone better than me, in which case…damn girl, you need to get out more because most people I’ve met classify me as a grade-A asshole, or…possible but least likely, you mean it and I’m just not sure how to take it.

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