Fall Like the Leaves, Part Three: My Date with Danger

By Rebecka Jones, Staff Writer

I’ve been off work for two days now. When my boss was notified about my “sickness,” she told me to take as long a break as needed.

I rarely take work off, but I’m grateful for it this time. I’ve needed time to process everything that occurred this past weekend — the man, the dead body, the chase, the underground lair, criminal organizations, agents…everything. Never in my life had I experienced anything like them, let alone all at once. It was all too much for my brain to compute, so I needed the break.

Though, instead of resting, I kept thinking. I was up these past two nights thinking about the man — Asher. He always came into my work and smiled at me. I never would have imagined I’d see him standing before me, gun in hand, bloodied from the man he killed. I mean, I had my suspicions that he was involved in something crazy because he had that look that screamed “all business,” and he always wore black. I started to believe that was just his personality and style after he began smiling at me. But that little part of me still said something was wrong from the start, and that I should stay away.

That rush of adrenaline he gave me whenever he stepped into the shop kept me from listening. He was different compared to everyone in this town. Maybe it was the way he carried himself or dressed, but that wasn’t all of it. I think I saw something in him that I desired — something I wanted to experience and cherish because I lacked it. I just didn’t know what it was. I wanted to figure him out — discover what made me so interested in him. Now I know.

He’s an agent. He works with danger. He is danger. I hadn’t realized how much I craved it until he came into my boring life and flipped it around. He added risk, action, and intrigue into it. He brought back the rush in my heart that disappeared when my parents died. I hated myself so much to admit it, but everything from this last weekend excited me. It freed me from the bonds of my uneventful life — bonds I didn’t even know were possible to break free from.

Now I’m lying in bed on a Tuesday night, unable to fall asleep once again. My mind is replaying all the events for the hundredth time — Asher beating up the man, me throwing myself at the man, Asher shooting him, running with Asher to the underground lair, him telling me he’s an agent. I just can’t get this interesting, gorgeous man out of my mind. I discover I don’t want to get him out of my mind.

The gorgeous man in question also stands outside my window now. He’s silent as a mouse, but I know he’s there. He’s been guarding me as promised, keeping me safe from whatever this criminal organization is. I’ve attempted to have conversations with him, but he wouldn’t budge. It’s like I don’t exist unless I need something.

I’m still trying to figure out his reasons for coming into the coffee shop and smiling at me. It had to be more than just to get coffee, based on the fact that his face flushed and he looked away quickly, then proceeded to deflect when I asked why he came in.

I don’t want to say Asher likes me because why would he? I am probably the least interesting person in this town. I have bad taste in music, I only eat Ramen for dinner, I work at a coffee shop, and I have an old corgi named Skittles. Nothing about me is interesting.

On top of that, as I’ve said many times now, he’s an agent. He doesn’t have time for anyone. He’s darkness incarnate and doesn’t seem to like people. He’s very sheltered and mysterious. How could he be fond of anyone, let alone my annoying self, who threw herself in the middle of his fight and made him have to guard me now?

Yet I still can’t eliminate that thought entirely, and it makes me even more interested in this man. I’ve spent these last few weeks trying to figure him out, and now I know I’ve got that chance again.

Something crosses through my mind, and suddenly I’m getting up from bed and sitting in front of my open laptop on my desk.

The time reads 3:27a.m., yet any trace of sleepiness has left me as I rapidly type on my laptop. Skittles has awoken from the noise and lies down at my feet, huffing out a sigh as she immediately drifts off again. I wish I could say the same, but no, my mind is taking off right now.

I smile as I click “purchase,” knowing very well how much Asher is going to hate me for this. I don’t care. The only way I can crack him open is to actually interact with him, which I haven’t really been able to do because he’d never say a word to me at work. Now that he’s going to be around me 24/7, I’ll have more time to talk with him.

I just hope this stone-cold man will break.

***

I managed to sleep for about thirty minutes, but I was up at the crack of dawn. I quickly went through my morning routine — coffee and breakfast, feed Skittles, brush my teeth, put a little bit of makeup on, then get dressed. The only differences in my routine today were the extra coffee — I’m running on excitement and an unhealthy amount of sleep — and putting on a cute outfit: a green skirt with a thick black pantyhose underneath and a beige sweater topped with my long brown boots.

I finish off the look by brushing my short brown hair. I stare at myself in the mirror, a different girl looking back at me. She gives me a questioning look, like ‘What do you think you’re doing?’ I choose to give her the biggest smile possible in response and walk away before she makes me change my mind. There’s no turning back now.

I grab my purse and keys, strutting out the door with that smile glued to my face. I grab the car door handle, feeling the presence of another body a few feet behind me. I don’t even get the chance to open the door when that body is suddenly looming over me. I see the shadow of a large man on the car. I still can’t stop the flutters in my stomach when he speaks with that deep voice of his.

“Where are you going? You don’t work until tomorrow.”

I release a deep sigh. I was expecting this, but now is my chance. I turn around and force the smile back onto my face. “I was just going to drive into town.”

“You are not to leave your house unless it is for work or groceries. We’ve been through this,” he grits his teeth, most likely annoyed from having to repeat himself multiple times. He told me how “guarding” me was going to work and went over all the rules. Naturally, I didn’t pay attention because I was still processing everything. And it was hard to focus when those beautiful lips were moving.

“I know, Mr. Coffee Shop.” He flinches every time I say that, so I’ve been saying it a lot these last few days as a reminder of what he did, in hopes he’ll confess what his business was at the shop. It hasn’t worked. “I’ll be in a public place, so my chances of being killed are slim. Also, I can take care of myself. I kept you from getting killed, remember?”

“Doesn’t matter,” he crosses his arms, eyes narrowed at me. “You are still in danger, so I am here to protect you. You should be thankful we’re not locking you up at our base.”

I roll my eyes. “So thankful. I guess stalking comes with the gig, too, huh?”

“Not stalking. I’m protecting you while also giving you privacy.”

I make a move for the car door again, but he grabs my arm and turns me around. “Faith, no. Wherever you go is dangerous. Anyone out there can be in this organization, and if they recognize your face from the alleyway, they will come after you.”

I jerk my arm out of his grasp and huff at him. “Then do your job. Protect me. Let me leave for a couple hours, but come with me.”

He stares at me, the silence between us lasting forever. Something in those narrow eyes softens, and he pulls back. He releases a sigh. I didn’t realize how tense he was until his shoulders dropped. He rubs his face, his thumb brushing over the scar beneath his lip. When he finally looks back at me, his face is calm. Then he surprises me by saying, “Fine. I’m riding with you, though.”

***

I’m using every ounce of energy I got from that thirty-minute nap to keep myself from smiling a victorious smile. My plan is falling into place. However, I have to remind myself I’ve only passed step one. I’m not victorious yet. I will be once Asher is spilling his guts about the coffee shop.

I also have to keep myself from laughing at how ironic the situation is. Asher is riding in the passenger seat, surprisingly comfortable with letting me drive. I would’ve thought “Strong and Dark” would be all grumpy and whiny about me taking the lead, but I’m glad he’s not. And I’m glad he hasn’t asked where we’re going yet.

I pull up to a full parking lot and step out of the car. Asher gives me a questioning look, then frowns when he notices people walking towards the entrance to a fair.

“Are you serious?” He says as he steps out and shuts the car door

“When am I not?” I ask with a smile, to which he exhales deeply. “You’re here to protect me, remember? Come on. I got tickets for us both.”

He opens his mouth like he’s about to object, but I cut him off by taking his arm and dragging him over to the entrance. I guess I’m resorting to force now.

We get our names marked off on the list and enter. It’s our town’s annual fall festival, and it’s always a big deal every year since there’s nothing else interesting here. The people go all out with games like pumpkin shooting, scavenger hunts, corn mazes, and potato sack races. I usually go with my coworkers every year, but this year is different.

The weather is surprisingly perfect today. The sun is finally out, keeping us warm while the breeze keeps us cool. Trees with colorful leaves surround the festival, reminding everybody that it’s fall — the most important season for us because of its beauty and promises of holidays.

I take Asher to our first game: pumpkin shooting. I’m not surprised when he refuses to participate, so I go over to one of the pumpkin cannons as other participants take their places by the others. Step two of my plan is officially in action.

As soon as the game operator blows the whistle, I fire away. I hit every single target in twenty seconds, thanks to my coworkers who force me to do this with them every year. I’m awarded with applause from the other participants as well as a shocked look on Asher’s face. I smirk and decide to play up the confidence, telling him he can’t beat me.

He doesn’t budge at first, but as soon as I call him a chicken and make my arms into chicken wings and flap them, he groans and goes over to a cannon. Gotcha!

I’m blatantly proven wrong when Asher hits every target in under ten seconds. He receives a huge and adorable stuffed animal of a deer for breaking the record.

I expect him to give me an “I told you so” look, but instead, he hands me the deer plush. “For you,” he murmurs, and I swear I catch a little lift at the corners of his lips.

My chest suddenly feels warm, my heart pounding a little too quickly now as I look up into those dark eyes. I drop my gaze to the ground before I drown in them, and I hate myself for making it look so obvious.

I try to play it off by laughing, though it comes out harshly. “Fun, right?”

I stare at the ground for what seems like forever, but my head snaps up when I hear the low rumble of what I realize is a chuckle. It grows louder when I make eye contact with Asher, and his lips turn upward into a smile. His dark eyes glisten. The dimple on his right cheek appears, making my stomach drop and head swim.

He. Is. Laughing.

I thought his smile was a rarity, but his laugh is a supernatural phenomenon. His entire face glows, not just his eyes. His nose scrunches up a bit. The muscles on his face relax. His cheeks lift so high that I notice a second dimple. He has two dimples.

I am so done for.

“If I’m being honest, yes,” Asher replies after recovering. The smile is still on his face, just as bright. “It was fun seeing your jaw fall to the floor as I broke the record.”

My face grows hot, and I punch his massive bicep as I stutter out, “Hush!”

He’s unmovable like a stone wall, my weak punch absolutely useless. He snorts. “Come on, don’t you want to try to beat me at another game?”

What? This man, who was first set on me not leaving my house and glared at me for bringing him here, is now challenging me to another game. First his laugh and now this. I wonder how many more surprises will come out of him.

“Oh, uh, yes!” I fumble over my words again. “Let’s go.”

Then we’re off. We compete against each other in the scavenger hunt. He wins again because I suck at finding clues. We race through the corn maze. I won this one because he got stuck helping a couple find their way out. We do the potato sack race. I won this one, too, because he felt too embarrassed to finish the race, hopping around in a potato sack. We agreed it was a tie in the end.

We ended the day talking and eating ice cream at the festival. I told him about some of the insane regulars we get at the coffee shop. He surprised me by telling me a crazy mission he had to go on a year ago. No hints as to why he came into my work and smiled at me, unfortunately. I’m not entirely upset, though. I’m just grateful I got him to actually have a normal conversation and hang out with me. That’s one step closer to getting him to open up. I decide to give up on that for today, as I am exhausted from all that running and laughing.

I’m driving back with Asher by the time the sun begins to set. We’re silent, seemingly out of topics to talk about, though I very much have a lot I still want to ask him. I resist, listening to the faint music from the radio instead.

I pull up in my driveway and cut off the engine. I’m about to grab the handle when the passenger door slams. I turn to see Asher darting around the car, making it to the driver’s side and opening up the door for me. He holds out his hand, his dark eyes focused on me. He gives me a small smile, but I can read so much behind it. It speaks calm, comfort, and home. It makes my knees weak, and my stomach is fluttering again.

My face flushes as I realize I’m just gaping at him, but all he does is chuckle and gently take my hand. I allow him to pull me out of my car. He stands me upright, his arms holding onto my elbows. His eyes never leave mine. Somehow, mine don’t leave his either this time. His eyes roam my face; he’s reading me, trying to understand me as I am him. 

He’s a man with many walls, and I see the cracks beginning to form. He’s not the same person he was from the coffee shop, and that’s not because I know he’s an agent now. Instead of the swift glances from weeks ago, he’s looking at me long and hard like there’s more to me. Instead of the light touches from taking his drinks or handing me the broom, he holds onto me like he never wants to let go.

Before I let myself drown in those eyes again, I force out words. “Thank you.”

I expect him to let go of my elbows—to backtrack and look away—but he doesn’t. Instead, he drops my left arm and cups my right hand with both of his hands. He brings my hand to his lips and presses a gentle kiss to the back of my hand.

My brain is no longer working as he responds, “Thank you. I had a great day.”

“I, uh, had a great day, uhm, too,” I stutter, unable to ignore the burn his kiss has left on my hand.

“Have a good night,” he says, seemingly oblivious of his effect on me as he lets go of my hand. I crave his touch the second his hands fall to his sides.

“You too,” I reply, forcing my voice to sound normal and not like I don’t want him to go. He gives me one last smile before walking away to wherever he goes to keep an eye on me, while not stalking me.

My brain is a jumbled mess as I go inside my house and get settled for the night. So much has happened these last couple of days, but it feels like a lot more has happened these last couple of hours.

I thought I would get home today with this man figured out, but instead, I’m here even more confused and astonished by him. I thought that light he brought to the coffee shop vanished the second I threw myself into the fight and got involved in his life. I thought he was beginning to hate me and would never look at me again once his job was over, but today proved otherwise. He’s glowing again, but this time it’s brighter. Everything about him is brighter now. 

I want to punch myself.

No, no, no! This was not part of my plan! I was supposed to focus on getting Asher to tell me his intentions, not to have fun with him and get all gushy when he touches my hand. I’m getting distracted and I cannot have this. I need to remind myself he is dangerous. There is no possible way he likes me. The only reason he smiled and laughed today was because he needed a break from whatever work an agent does. That’s it. Everything is fine. No danger here…

…right?

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