I don’t respond to her, taking the moment to look at her. Her hair falls over her shoulders in waves. During the brief time we dated—if you could even call it that— I used to love running my hands through those thick strands, my fingers tangling in the dark locks. Now the cascade of nearly black is just another reminder of something I had but couldn’t keep.
I’m all too aware that if I were to push the blanket of hair back, I’d be met with one bare, tan shoulder. She had fussed with the T-shirt the whole car ride here before she finally just let it fall as it wanted. I follow the curves her shirt hugs until I’m met with the denim of her shorts. I’m observing the way her tan legs bounce up and down with nerves when I feel a sudden pain on my forehead.
“Ow!” I howl, rubbing the center of my face. “Did you just flick me?”
Lily gives me a sly smile. “I sure did. Stop staring at me. It’s weird, and it creeps me out.” Her one eyebrow raises.
“It creeps you out, huh?” Somehow, I’m very certain that my gaze doesn’t creep her out. I don’t voice my viewpoint, though—well aware she’d only deny it if I did.
“One hundred percent. Now, back to the matter at hand. We aren’t staying here for the night. We still have plenty of daylight left to continue our trip.” She points to the road as if the action alone will magically have us traveling back down it.
The trip here took about five hours and we could’ve stayed on the road for a few more, but I have other plans. When I found out I was traveling to South Carolina with Lily, I decided to implement a few detours along the way.
The first being Hot Springs, Arizona where we’re currently parked in front of a small Airbnb I rented last minute. After talking with Veronica and coming up with a plan, this was the only thing I could find on such short notice. Even if it is smaller than Lily’s Dallas studio, it will have to do.
When I told Veronica all about my plan to take a few extra days to explore, she was all for it. She claimed Lily and I needed to figure our shit out—her words, not mine. I told her I didn’t think Lily and I would ever have anything figured out. But once Veronica has her mind set on something, there’s no turning back.
So now I’m left with a very unwilling travel partner.
“You’ve really only got two options here, Lily Bear,” I drag out the nickname I know she absolutely despises.
“Stop calling me that,” she snaps.
“Don’t interrupt me.” I narrow my eyes at her for a few seconds before she makes an angry face at me. “Anyway,” I continue, “you’ve got two options. You can stay the night in Gladys, which really doesn’t have a lot of space in the back. Or, you can join me in the house for the night. We even have the luxury of having access to the hot springs. The place has two sleeping spaces. You can pretend I’m not even there.”
She purses her lips, like she’s deep in thought. “You talk entirely too much for me to be able to pretend you’re not there.”
I smile. “Don’t act like you don’t like it.”
Lily guffaws. “Keep dreaming, Aspen.”
“What if you’re what I dream about?” The words come out before I think about their meaning. My intention was to flirt with her, throw a wrench in her demeanor, but the words ring a little too true. Something she hopefully doesn’t read into.
Her plump lips are sealed shut when I look over at her, her eyes darting in every direction but mine. Her front teeth make an appearance and seconds later she’s rolling her bottom lip underneath them. My fingers twitch in my lap to pull it out—an old habit—but I hold back.
Not yet. She’s not ready.
“What option do you choose?” I ask, waiting for her to look in my direction again.
Lily sighs, her eyes rolling before the aqua globes land on me. “Lead the way.” She reaches into the backseat, quickly grabbing her purse before opening her door a moment later. Her sandals make a slapping sound against the concrete as she jumps out.
I follow her lead, opening my door and stepping out. It feels good to finally stretch my legs. I reach up to the air, working out the kinks in the rest of my body as well.
The hot springs will definitely be nice after the first leg of our road trip.
I hear a screeching sound and Lily exclaim “Shit!” a moment later.
Rounding the back of the car as fast as possible, I find Lily standing there looking aghast. The panicked look on her face makes sense when I notice the handle to the tailgate resting in her hand…no longer attached to the truck.
“I’m…I’m so sorry,” Lily apologizes, lifting the handle and waving it in the air between us. “I was just trying to open the back and I had to pull a little harder than I expected, and then it just…well, it just came off.” The handle lingers in the air between us. Lily cautiously watches me, waiting for my reaction.
It’s quiet for a few beats, with only the sounds of the surrounding trees rustling in the wind. Finally, I can’t hold it in another second. A huge laugh erupts from me. I can’t stop it. I have to brace my palms against my thighs to regain my breath.
“Aspen Michael Bellevue, stop laughing!” She whacks me with the disassembled handle. After it hits my bicep, she loses control of it and it drops to the concrete with a clank. “I was worried you’d be mad at me,” she whines as she runs her hands through her hair.
“Lily, it’s fine. It happens all the time. I can get it back on easily.”
Her eyes widen. “It happens all the time and you let me panic over it for that long?” There’s disbelief in her voice.
“I didn’t realize you were that bent up about it,” I note, reaching to pick up the handle. In less than ten seconds, I have it clicking back into place and the tailgate pulled down. Wiping my hands on my jeans, I toss her a glance. “See?”
Her shoulder bumps against me as she goes to stand in front of the bed. I watch in amusement as she grabs the handle of her suitcase at the top of the pile. She plants her feet and gives it a good tug.
Once, twice…
On the third tug, I step closer to her and try to offer a hand. “Can I help?”
“I’ve got it,” she huffs, her arms shaking with tension as she pulls. Finally, the suitcase flies out of its position. Unfortunately for Lily, she was in the middle of pulling extremely hard, and she tumbles to the asphalt. She screams when the suitcase falls right on top of her.
I take the few steps to reach her, positioning one leg over her body so my feet are on either side of her thighs. “Still think you’ve got it?” I ask, extending my hand to help her up.
She shoves the suitcase off her, slapping my hand away in the process. Refusing my hand, she stands back up. When her body is vertical again, she stands no more than a foot away from me.
It’s closer than we’ve been in a long time.
Her chest rises and falls in quick breaths. I’m stuck to the ground as her eyes roam over my face. I’m getting ready to open my mouth to tell her something. What exactly, I’m not sure. But she’s allowing me this close to her and I feel like I should take advantage of it.
I’m nanoseconds away from saying something when she slides her purse onto her shoulder, using one hand to grab her duffel bag strap and the other to grab the handle on her suitcase. The wheels sound against the concrete as she begins to roll it toward the treehouse.
“Thanks for your help, asshole,” she yells over her shoulder, not bothering to look at me.
What the actual fuck? I’m staring blankly after her as she continues to move farther and farther away from me.
I tried to fucking help her.
“Thanks for the help, asshole,” I mock in an uppity tone as I grab my own belongings. There’s a loud bang when I slam it shut a little too hard.
“I did try to help,” I whisper to myself while I follow in her footsteps, now way behind her.
This woman might actually drive me to insanity.
13
Lily
Past - Age Nineteen
“Thank you for a won
derful date,” I tell Blaine. We’re both sitting in his car as it idles in front of my brother’s house. I was going to have him drop me off at my apartment, until I realized I left my keys in the pocket of the duffle bag that’s still in Selma’s room. My roommate is forty-five minutes away at her flavor of the week’s house. Lucky for me, my car is still here, as Selma had offered to just drop it off tomorrow with Maverick’s help.
I sent her a text five minutes ago, letting her know there was a small change of plans. She’s yet to respond, but I doubt she and Maverick are anywhere other than home.
“I should be the one thanking you,” Blaine says, reaching across the center console and putting his hand on my leg.
“We can have a mutual thank you,” I respond awkwardly, unsure of what I’m supposed to do with my own hands. Do they go on my leg? In my pockets? Shit, I don’t have pockets.
“Can we show how grateful we are with a kiss?” His bluntness takes me off guard.
I’m sure he can hear my small gasp as I hesitantly look over at him. I give him a shy nod, too stunned to get words out.
He slowly—so freaking slowly—leans across the center console, using his hand that isn’t on my thigh to pull my face closer to him. The air from his mouth tickles my cheek as he draws me closer.
Before I can process anything, his lips cautiously press against mine. The kiss is feather soft and sweet. But right now, the last thing I want is sweet. I lean in even closer, my tongue slipping out and pressing against his closed lips. Just as he opens his mouth to me, a knock on my window has me almost jumping out of my pants.
I mean, I’m not wearing pants, but if I were, I’d have jumped right out of them.
Blaine and I separate in an instant—and I feel murderous when I look at the perpetrator through the window.
“Was he expecting you?” Blaine quietly asks, reaching for his control panel to roll down the window.
“Don’t you dare,” I tell Blaine, before damn near burning a hole right through my window with my eyes.
Aspen stares right back, a smug grin on his face. When I don’t make any attempt to get out of the car, he takes it upon himself to open my door. The sudden rush of cold air, following the recent warmth I’ve grown accustomed to, makes my skin rise with goosebumps.
“Uhhhh…hi, Aspen,” Blaine mumbles, removing his hand from my thigh before running it through his hair. Finally, he rests it on the steering wheel.
Aspen doesn’t even give Blaine a response; he’s too busy staring at me with that stupid ass smirk on his face. “Have fun?” he inquires. That stupid cleft in his chin is obvious, and all I want to do is slap it off him.
I narrow my eyes at him, not dignifying him with an answer. I turn to find Blaine’s uneasy stare. I try to apologize with my eyes, mouthing I’m sorry to him. Then aloud, I say, “I had the best time tonight. Thank you, Blaine.” I reach across and plant a tender kiss on his cheek before I step out of the car.
“I’ll call you,” Blaine says as I shut the door.
Aspen laughs from beside me, muttering something I don’t quite pick up on.
I stomp up the driveway, ignoring the annoying presence right on my heels.
Blaine’s car has just made it down the street when Aspen reaches out and grabs me by the elbow. “Have fun tonight, Lil?” he accuses.
I turn so fast it almost gives me whiplash, my finger instinctively darting out at him. “Don’t even talk to me right now!” The words come out as a shout.
“Awww, are you upset about something? Was Blaine a bad kisser? I could’ve probably told you that. I’ve heard from a few ladies that they were very unsatisfied by him.” His grip tightens on my elbow, reminding me that his grubby paws are still on me.
I rip my elbow from his grasp. “Grow up.”
“So that is why you’re mad?” he says through a wolfish grin.
“I’m mad because I’ve been dying to kiss Blaine Wilcox for an entire year and you just ruined that for me!” I have so much pent up aggression right now, I want to shove him right against the hard chest he has on almost full display with his cutoff T-shirt.
“Trust me, I have it on good authority that he’s a mediocre kisser at best.”
“And what authority is that?” I cock my hip, waiting for him to respond.
He smiles, waiting for me to connect the dots.
“Disgusting, Aspen. I don’t need to hear how the girls you kiss have also kissed Blaine. I don’t believe you anyway.” I turn to head toward the front door, my boots clacking against the pavement as I bound up it.
“Suit yourself,” he says nonchalantly, still near enough that I can feel his breath hitting my neck.
“You don’t need to stand so close,” I throw over my shoulder, running up the front porch steps as fast as I can manage. I swing the door open, expecting to find Selma and Maverick on the couch together.
But I’m met with nothing. Then, I notice their bedroom door hanging wide open—neither one of them in sight.
“Where are they?” I ask as Aspen shuts the front door.
“I don’t know. I got home not too long ago, and they weren’t here.” He props his hip against the entryway table, crossing his legs at the ankles.
“I just need my bag, then I’ll be going,” I explain, taking small steps toward their bedroom. The look on Aspen’s face has me wary. He looks like a hunter feeling out his prey.
“Awww, not so soon,” he teases, his gaze flicking to my feet as I inch away from him.
“I’m leaving,” I tell him.
Aspen ignores me. “Should we have girl talk?” he sneers. He claps his hands together, the sound echoing through the empty apartment.
“You can go fuck yourself,” I shoot back, quickly turning away from him and power walking toward their bedroom.
“Why would I do that when I’d much rather fuck with you?”
My body wants to stop in its tracks at his question, but I don’t want him to know the way his words can be felt in my core, so I continue with my trek until I find my bag. I pull the strap over my shoulder then pull my hair out from underneath said strap.
When I turn to exit the room, I see Aspen blocking the doorway. The look on his face is serious. I can almost see the wheels in his head turning. The notion scares me. Joking, pervy Aspen I can handle; it’s when he turns calculating that he terrifies me.
The complete one-eighty has me uneasy.
“Why’d you go on a date with him, Lily?” The use of my actual name instead of his typical pet name for me only makes it worse.
I fiddle with the strap on my shoulder to try to buy myself more time. “Because I’m a grown ass adult and I can?” I try to fit underneath his arm stretching through the doorway, but he quickly lowers it, blocking me in once again.
“Not a good enough answer,” he says, his words uncomfortably close to my ear.
I look up at him, intimidated by his nearness. His breath tickles my ear, and the spot he reached with his crude words earlier warms even more.
What’s in his eyes stuns me the most. For once in his life, there isn’t indifference written in them. They look serious, as if he actually cares about my response.
“What would be a good enough answer?” I ask, refusing to look away from him. His arm is centimeters away from my chest. Every time my chest heaves after taking a long breath, I can almost feel the scratch of his arm across the peaks of my boobs. Part of me wants to breathe harder just to test what that’d feel like.
He must notice the tension, because his eyes flick to the small gap between us before he looks at me again. “That you regret going,” his voice is husky, void of its typical joking tone.
My mouth slowly parts as my brain tries to decode what he just said. Did I have too much sugar? Am I seeing things? My thoughts scramble as I try to process what the hell Aspen is saying. “Come again?” I whisper, my eyes darting to his lips. His tongue comes out to wet his lips and I can’t look away. I’m too sucked into every small movement he
makes.
“I want to hear that you regret going,” he says, dragging out the last syllables, his gaze stuck on where my chest heaves. He’s so locked in on my chest it feels as if he can see through the thick material of the dress covering it.
I search his face, trying to fill in the blanks from his words. “Why?”
He doesn’t answer me immediately, but he does manage to throw me off balance—because instead of using his words to answer, he does something worse.
He uses his hands.
He slowly moves his arm. I avert my eyes to the open space in front of me.
Then, I see my escape route.
I can get out of here and pretend none of this ever happened. But I can’t. For some reason my body is betraying me, and it doesn’t move. My feet stay rooted as his hand starts at my hip and slowly brushes its way up my body. It caresses my hip bone, my rib, my collar bone, only stopping when his fingers find the space between my chin and neck. His fingers are hot against me, branding the same spot Blaine had touched minutes ago.
“Aspen,” I breathe.
“Hmm?” he asks, staring at the spot where his thumb currently rests next to my mouth.
I want his lips to caress the spot his thumb is brushing over. I want to lean in and kiss each dimple on his cheek, memorize the little dips using my tongue. All of a sudden, I have all these wants for Aspen, and it disarms me.
“Why do you want me to regret going?” I need to know. Aspen’s favorite thing is talking in riddles. As someone who’s always suggestively straightforward, he’s making no sense right now.
He stares at my lips, his emerald eyes unwavering. “Do you really want me to answer that?” He moves his gaze from my lips and looks me in the eyes. His eyebrows raise in suggestion, waiting for me to reply.
All I can do is nod, too enthralled in the moment with him.
The Road to Finding Us: A Standalone Second Chance Romance (Aftershock Series Book 2) Page 7
