The Road to Finding Us: A Standalone Second Chance Romance (Aftershock Series Book 2)

by Kat Singleton

  “I’m reminded of that constantly,” he mutters. I almost don’t even catch it because his back is to me, but the space is small and my walls are concrete, so sound travels.

  I’m ready to ask him what he means by that before I decide otherwise. Aspen has always spoken cryptically to me. With everyone else, he was upfront and frank. With me? He was forever speaking in riddles and contradicting his words with his actions. It’s something I’m used to. I don’t have the energy to question him further on it.

  “Seriously, what are you doing here?” The words come out harsh. I’m exhausted from cleaning and packing all day. The last thing I want to do is stand here and play some game with Aspen.

  I used to get high off of sparring with him in college. It was my favorite game—a thrill ride. Now I just want off the damn ride. I’m over the high and over the constant feeling of my stomach sinking.

  His gaze swings to me, pinning me to my spot. “Veronica called me.”

  Figures.

  When she told me she was going to contact Aspen, I didn’t think she was serious. She knows exactly how Aspen and I left things. But I didn’t think there was any fucking way she could be insane enough to think I’d ever willingly get in a car with him for a road trip of this magnitude.

  She’s lost her damn mind.

  I want to find my phone and ask her what in the hell she was thinking—but first I need to get rid of the intruder in my living room.

  “It’s not happening,” I say bluntly, looking down and picking at a thread on my top.

  When I look back up, I find Aspen staring intently at me. His shoulders rise and fall with a deep breath. “Look, I’m just here to offer you a ride. Veronica told me she’d have my balls if I didn’t drive you safely to the opening—and I’m quite fond of my balls, so here I am.”

  “I’m well aware,” I mumble under my breath. Judging by the way he shakes his head, I’m guessing I didn’t say it quietly enough to miss his ears. The movement causes his hair to flop around. It’s longer now. When we were in college, he never let it grow out. It was always short and buzzed. Now, only the sides of his head are buzzed with a nice fade, and the top has longer dirtier blond strands.

  “There’s no reason we shouldn’t be able to ride together like adults.” He says it so matter-of-factly that it makes me mad.

  When did he grow up and become the rational one? “There’s no way in hell I’m traveling halfway across the country with you, Aspen. We’d probably kill each other by the end of it.”

  He takes a few hesitant steps closer to me, a small grin pulling at his lips. “We’ve both grown up since then. I think we’re more than capable of riding together. It makes sense. We both live in Dallas. We’re both driving to South Carolina. It’d be crazy for both of us to take our own cars.”

  My lips purse as I think his words through. It really doesn’t make sense for the two of us to drive down there alone, and if it were any other human on this earth, I’d be happy with the suggestion. But I’m scared for my sanity—and maybe my heart—that a road trip with Aspen could have repercussions. The kind I might not be ready for. But the more I ponder it, the more I don’t want to be the one to back down to him. If I say no, will he assume it’s because I still have feelings for him? If I say no, he’ll think those feelings still exist. But if I say yes, I can prove to him—and myself—that those feelings are far in my past. Exactly where they’ll stay.

  “We would split gas?” I ask tentatively, searching his face for any unease on his part.

  “Sure.” His shoulders lift in a shrug.

  “I get control of the music? I already made a playlist that took hours to create. I didn’t do all of that work for nothing.”

  “We can share control,” he responds, taking the last step to close the distance between us, so we’re only about a foot apart from each other.

  When I woke up this morning, I never thought I’d be face-to-face with my first love, let alone contemplating going on a road trip with him. But life is weird, and in truth, I wasn’t looking forward to driving all the way to South Carolina by myself.

  This can strictly be a business deal. He helps me get from point A to point B—nothing else.

  “Can we keep the talking to a minimum? I don’t have anything new to say to you,” I declare.

  He puts his hand over his heart in mock hurt. “You wound me, Lily Bear.”

  My mouth almost blurts that it can’t be more than he hurt me years ago, but I decide against it. If we’re going to spend a lot of time in a closed space together, it’s probably best not to bring up old times.

  “I’m only considering this because I hate driving and I refuse to take a plane.” My finger wags in his face to help get my point across. I don’t want him to think this is anything more than a carpool.

  “Understood,” he says with a curt nod. “What time should I pick you up tomorrow morning?”

  “Eight,” I respond, before I even think it through.

  “See you then!” he chirps, and as quickly as he barged into my space, he’s out of it. The door makes a slamming sound behind him.

  Mother trucker.

  It appears in the span of a single hour, my plans went from driving myself down to South Carolina, to riding down with enemy number one.

  What the hell did I just agree to?

  Lily

  Past - Age Nineteen

  Freshman year came and went in a blur.

  It was more of the same from day to day. I spent most of my time with Maverick and Selma—and unfortunately, Aspen.

  The relationship between Aspen and I hadn’t changed much from the very first day we met. Except now, I wish I had the excuse to punch him in the balls again.

  He drives me nuts constantly. He’s hot and cold with the way he acts around me. One second, he’s making some kind of sexual joke about our chemistry and the next, he’s calling me his little sister. That man is more confusing than my statistics homework—and I suck at math.

  It doesn’t help that he can’t keep it in his pants. I’m not sure that even if his life depended on it, he could keep his dick out of some poor innocent girl.

  The more the four of us hang out, the more I see him take girl after girl home. It’s absolutely revolting.

  I don’t know what’s wrong with the girls on campus, but for some reason, they like him. Judging by the way they all flock around him anywhere we go, they more than like him, which is baffling to me. There’s not much to him other than pervy jokes and okay, maybe good arms.

  Once a day, I tell myself I’m fine with not spending time with my brother and my best friend, just so I can avoid Aspen. But it turns out I’m a sucker for punishment, because more often than not, I find myself with the three of them.

  We’re already halfway through our sophomore year of college. Maverick, Selma, and I went home to stay with our parents during winter break. Aspen went to his hometown as well. That means it’s been one entire month without seeing Aspen. One blissful month.

  The asshole wouldn’t let me forget about him, though. He sent me memes from The Office daily—which he knows is my weakness. The Dwight ones really get me giggling.

  Selma and I had just parked at the gym when she realized she forgot her tennis shoes. Both of us have been trying to keep up with working out even though volleyball season is over. We’ve done great at sticking to the weight room during the off-season. But today, due to the shoe mishap, we’ve had to turn around to get them.

  So, here we are, pulling into the driveway of the house Selma, Maverick, and Aspen share. She better bust her ass finding those shoes before I lose all motivation to work out today.

  The car is barely in park before she’s darting out, running up the front porch steps, and unlocking the door. I decide to follow her inside, afraid if I stay seated for too long, I’ll fall asleep.

  I thought it’d be the best idea to take eighteen credit hours this semester, and I’m drowning. It’s fine. I’m fine. Everything’s fine. />
  My feet drag on the steps as I follow Selma inside. She throws her purse down on the entryway table before rounding the corner to the hallway. “Come in and wait here. Do whatever. I promise I’ll be quick.”

  Selma and I have been friends forever, so I already know all about her tendency to misplace things. Because of this, I also know her search for the shoes could be anything but quick. I strut into the small kitchen and climb onto a barstool, where I lazily thumb through social media while I wait for Selma to find her shoes.

  Is it bad that I hope she doesn’t find them so I don’t feel guilty for not going?

  Just as I get the nerve to double-tap on my crush’s new post (his name is Blaine), I hear the rumble of a car outside.

  My stomach drops. Only one person I know drives a car that loud and obnoxious. And I was kind of liking not having to be around him, because anytime I am, I feel violent. As if I could throat-punch him at any moment. It was a nice month, not being constantly annoyed by the single existence of one human.

  Aspen.

  “Selma!” Aspen yells. “You’re parked in my spot.” He’s closing in on the kitchen, and any second now, he’ll have a nice surprise of me sitting in his kitchen. I’m sure he’ll look dumbfounded.

  Because here’s the thing…in the midst of the memes over break, Aspen and I had a very different phone call.

  It all started one night when I went out with some of my high school friends. One thing led to another and the next thing I knew, I was drunk—very drunk.

  Now, there is nothing wrong with a drunk Lily. I’m actually a really fun drunk. I can hold it together for a long time.

  But on this night, I did the unimaginable.

  I called Aspen.

  I don’t have anything to blame for my obvious lapse in judgment. I was drunk, and he’d just sent me a very funny meme.

  Drunk Lily thought it was a good idea to call him with my reaction. And that call ended up turning into a conversation that lasted more than an hour.

  You heard it here first, folks.

  Aspen and I discovered we could have a solid conversation for more than two freaking minutes without arguing, and now I feel all sorts of odd around him.

  When I see him in about point-three seconds, are things going to be weird between us?

  I find out sooner than I’d rather. The moment he sees me, his shoulders tense and I get a dreaded once-over.

  We have an awkward stare-down for what seems like an eternity. After it gets abnormally uncomfortable, I decide to try to make it less awkward by climbing off the barstool and backing up toward Selma and Maverick’s room.

  “Well, hello to you, Aspen,” I say as sweetly as possible, trying to sneak past him and his brooding stare.

  While Maverick and Selma don’t usually pay attention to the banter between me and Aspen—and I definitely didn’t tell either of them about the phone call—I know that he and I left alone together is a perfect recipe for disaster.

  “Lily,” he purrs. “How lucky am I to have you here this afternoon?”

  I cringe at the tone of his voice. To every other girl it seems flirty, cute. To me, it seems predatory. “Don’t worry, you won’t have little old me here for long. I’m just waiting for Selma to find her shoes and then I’ll be out of your hair.” I try to sidestep him again, but I’m smaller than him and he’s faster than me. He’s now way too close for comfort and I can’t help but stare into those familiar eyes.

  “Lily.” He sighs, and I think he might say something nice for once, but I’m not surprised when he says, “Will you tell Selma that her car needs to move?”

  I want to scream at how uninterested he sounds. I thought we’d made some sort of progress after our phone call. Hell, I came back weirdly anxious to see him—in a good way, not that I’d ever admit it to another human being—and here he is, acting like we never had that conversation. Like it meant nothing to him.

  Fuck you too, Aspen Bellevue.

  He finally lets me pass him and I get halfway across the living room before I notice that he’s following me.

  “Thanks for the welcome back—asshole.” I watch the corners of his mouth lift up, shooting him the evil eye as I slowly back up toward the bedroom.

  “Did you want a welcome party?” His hand raises to rub at the short strands of his buzzed hair. It’s something he’s constantly doing, and it annoys the hell out of me. I’ve told him on numerous occasions.

  “A simple hello would’ve been nice.” There’s a solid thump when the backs of my legs run into an end table. In my attempt to get away from him, I didn’t pay any attention to where I was going.

  “Hello,” he retorts with his normal arrogant tone. His hands find his pockets as he stops a few feet away from me.

  I roll my eyes and let out a long breath. I’ve been in his presence for less than five minutes and he’s already grinding my gears. “Oh, don’t pretend now,” I fire back, bracing myself against the end table. My fingers almost knock over a framed picture of Maverick and Selma at our senior prom.

  Aspen’s hands stay in his pockets as he takes a step closer to me. We’re close at this point—too fucking close for my liking. The look on his face is unreadable, and part of me wants to question why he’s gone from hot to cold. I actually enjoyed talking to him—getting to know him. Now all I want to do is knee him in his favorite appendage.

  “Why are you here, Lily Bear?” He cocks his head, waiting for my response. With his proximity, I’m able to see the faint freckles that scatter over his face. They were darker when he came back from summer break in August, but even though summer is long gone and the winter chill is still in the air, they’re still barely there.

  “My brother lives here, dumbass,” I snap at him.

  I spy the humor in his green eyes. He runs a hand over his mouth, trying to hide his smile, the perfect dimple on his chin making an appearance. “I’m well aware,” he rasps.

  “Then why are you asking a stupid question?” I cross my arms over my chest.

  His eyes follow my movements before he looks up at me. “I was asking a simple question.”

  “I already told you, I’m waiting on Selma to find her shoes.” I carefully walk around him and plop down on the soft gray couch, leaving him standing by the end table alone.

  “Would you like company?” he asks.

  My gaze snaps to him. I can feel my eyebrows pull together on my forehead in confusion. “Over my dead body.” I look at the space between his eyes, unwavering under his stare.

  Aspen shakes his head, and the confident smirk that’s basically permanently attached to his face makes an appearance.

  “Found them!” Selma exclaims, bounding out of the room she shares with my brother. She braces herself against the couch and slips one shoe on at a time.

  “Oh, hi, Aspen,” she says cheerily.

  He gives her a warm smile and hello—a way warmer greeting than he’s ever given me.

  “Ready?” Selma asks me, once both tennis shoes are secured on her feet.

  I groan. Now that I’ve sat here on the couch, getting up to go work out is the very last thing I want to do. I’m thinking about telling her I’ll just wait for her here, but then my eyes meet Aspen’s. The thought of being alone with him here has me flying off the couch so fast. “Yep!” I say, purposely bumping my shoulder against Aspen’s on my way to the door.

  With no warning, he reaches out and grabs me by the elbow. The unexpected touch jolts me, his warm fingers digging deep into my skin. “See you tonight, Lily Bear.” He makes sure to emphasize the nickname he gave me a year ago. One I despise with every part of me.

  I pull my elbow from his grip, not bothering to give him a response—or the satisfaction of seeing the look on my face.

  All I do is follow Selma out the front door, trying my best to ignore the way I can still feel his fingers against my skin.

  Aspen

  Present

  “Are four bags really necessary?” After I pull the
sunglasses off my face, I get a better look at the pile of bags Lily is gathering at the top of her apartment stairs.

  She gives me a dirty look, resting her elbow against the railing. “Shut up,” she says with sass, quickly reaching out to stop the bag on top of the pile from falling all the way down the stairs.

  I climb the steps two at a time to reach the one in front of her. “How long are you planning on being gone?” I question, as I move the lighter bags from the top. Once the small bags are out of the way, I grab the handles for the two large suitcases and walk them down the stairs.

  “Well, during your raid of my apartment last night, you didn’t tell me how long you were planning on staying at Mav and V’s, so I had to be prepared,” she counters.

  I look up from the bottom of the stairs to watch her sling her large purse onto her shoulder. She goes to grab one of the smaller bags, but in the process of bending down, all the contents spill from her purse.

  “Shit,” she shrieks, lowering to the floor in response. Her tiny hands scramble to gather everything that’s been dumped.

  I make my way back up the stairs to help her pick up her stuff.

  “I’ve got it,” she snaps, smacking my hand as I move to grab something for her.

  I let out a sigh and then lean back to leave her to it. “I was just trying to help,” I point out. I won’t bother to try again. If she wants to be so demanding, I’m not going to argue with her. We haven’t even started the trip yet and I’m already wondering if this was a good idea.

  Our relationship can only be defined by one word: chaos.

  We were never really friends. I knew she was trouble from the moment I met her. The kind of trouble I was attracted to, but the kind that also happened to be my best friend’s twin sister. I knew right off the bat that she was off limits, but that didn’t stop me from forgetting it years later. Enough time playing cat and mouse with her did me in, and eventually, I lost sight of why I didn’t let us cross the line to begin with.