“Aspen!” I shriek, pulling the knot under my armpit tighter, praying nothing is hanging out for him to see. “What the hell are you doing?”
He snickers, his shoulder propped against the doorframe. He lifts one of the bottles of alcohol from earlier. “I figured there was only one good way to get you to drink with me. So,” he says mischievously, his eyes darting to take in the room, “I took your bag and hid it. I’ll give it back to you, of course—after you take a shot with me.”
I want to slap the devilish grin right off his face. My eyes narrow at him as I try to think of a way out of this situation. The last thing I want to do is drink—and possibly embarrass myself—around him. Time to remind him how hardheaded I can be.
“I guess I’ll just have to stay in my towel then,” I suggest, tightening my hold on it. My shoulder hits his as I shove past him. My eyes scan over the room as I try to see if he really did take my bag or not. I discover he wasn’t lying.
Aspen turns around to face me at the same time I come up with a plan. I take small steps closer and closer to him, trying to faze him enough to tell me where my bag is.
“You see, Aspen.” Two steps closer. “I’m not really in the mood to drink.” Another step. We’re now chest to chest and I have to look up at him to be able to see his mossy eyes.
His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows slowly, his nostrils flaring. His green stare meets my blue one. It’s quiet enough in the hotel room that I can hear the rapid sound of his heartbeat, pounding in his chest.
My finger lazily traces the bare skin of his tan arm. I look up at him from my eyelashes. “My clothes?”
“Lily, I—”
Just then, I hear the ring of my phone, giving away the location of my bag. I clutch my towel to my body and sprint toward the sound. I find my bag hidden in a cabinet, my phone vibrating inside it. Aspen lunges for it right after me, his bulky arms caging me in against the cabinet. We both look down to see the name on the screen.
While Aspen stares at the name blinking on my phone, I dip underneath his arm, walking myself back to the bathroom.
Once I’m in there, I swipe to answer, putting my back against the cold wood door. “Blaine, hi. How are you?”
“Blaine?” Aspen asks curtly from the other side of the door.
My feet take me away from the door and Aspen’s prying ears.
“Hey there, Lily. I’m doing great. I have some news for you, actually. But first, I miss you. How the hell have you been?”
“I miss you too,” I respond, sitting on the edge of the bathtub.
Blaine and I have kept in touch over the years. Even though we broke up when he moved away, and even though we never quite managed to cover all the bases together, in the process of dating, we formed a solid friendship. One I still cherish today.
“You miss him?” There’s a thud on the other side of the door as Aspen mutters the words, louder this time.
Asshole.
Blaine whispers something to someone on the other side of the line before there’s rustling and he’s back. “Oh my god, Lily, are you with a guy?”
Okay, Blaine and I have stayed really close over the years. He’s become my best guy friend. Because of that, he knows all about my recent dry spell.
“Oh, it’s no one,” I tell him, raising my voice to ensure it reaches Aspen on the other side of the door. Then I pull the phone away from my ear to better hear Aspen on the other side. Moments later, the items on the bathroom counter rattle when the door to our room slams.
“Lily, I heard a guy in the background. Spill—now,” Blaine instructs, being direct as always.
“Well, Aspen and I are on a road trip right now.”
“Are you for fucking real?”
“Yep.” I graze over a spot on my knee where I missed a spot shaving, my fingers brushing over the hairs.
“The Aspen?” A pause and then, “Well, this is a wild turn of events.”
I switch my phone from one ear to the other, shifting my weight on the tub. “Anyway… you said you had news?”
“Violet and I are engaged!” I can hear the excitement in his voice, and it makes me smile wide.
I jump up off the tub. “Oh my god, Blaine. Congratulations!”
Violet was Blaine’s best friend growing up. When he moved away to college, she stayed back home. During our relationship, he always talked about her fondly. A year after he and I broke up, he told me they were dating. He speaks of her like she put the stars in the sky, like a man desperately in love.
“Thank you,” he says with a long sigh. “I was so fucking nervous asking her, but she said yes. She’s stuck with me forever.”
Blaine and I talk for another thirty minutes as he catches me up on what he’s been doing.
My butt has long since fallen asleep by the time the two of us say goodbye. When I cautiously open the bathroom door, very aware I still don’t have my clothes, I find the room empty.
My bag sits on my bed, no longer hidden in the cabinet.
Aspen is nowhere to be found. Even after I get dressed and get ready for bed, he hasn’t made an appearance. Alone in the room as Nashville bustles outside our window, I decide to take him up on that drink.
25
Lily
Past - Age Twenty-Two
Someone has taken a jackhammer to my head. Or there’s a parade of elephants in clogs dancing around up there. There’s no other explanation for the pounding taking place inside my head. My brain feels like the car window Britney was taking her umbrella to circa two thousand seven. I attempt to open my eyes, but when I’m met with a sliver of light peeking through my curtains, I shut them again.
Groaning, I pull my blanket over my face. I stretch my legs underneath the covers, wondering why my legs are sore. Probably from the stilettos I swore were a good idea last night.
Veronica let me borrow them and I have no freaking clue how she can get around in those things. If I were her, I’d wear nothing but those combat boots she’s always stomping around in. The heels must be way less comfortable.
One of my roommates shuffles around in the hallway noisily. Lifting the blanket from my head a fraction of an inch, I peek out the space, making sure my door is shut. I don’t need my roommate seeing me like this right now. I need a solid ten minutes to wallow in my hangover blues before coming face-to-face with another human.
Deciding to brave the daylight in my room, I slowly pull the blanket from my face until I’m met with my dimly lit room. I look at my charging watch for the time, shocked that I slept until eleven a.m.
I wouldn’t know it was that late in the morning by the small amount of light coming through the space between my curtains.
Weird.
I know for a fact that I had the curtains wide open before I left for Lenny’s last night. I hesitantly wonder if I was smart enough to close them myself last night. Judging by the massive hangover I’m currently nursing, my bet is it wasn’t me.
Then it all comes rushing back to me.
Well…fragments of the night, at least.
I showed up at Lenny’s with some of my girlfriends, ready to have a good night. Veronica had helped dress me for the night, turning down the invitation to join us. She’s been even moodier than normal recently. My guess is it has something to do with my brother, but I haven’t attempted to broach that subject with him yet.
Last night when I walked into Lenny’s, my steps had faltered when I saw Aspen sitting in a corner booth with a group of his friends. I told my friend it was because of the heels, but it was the sight of Aspen casually hanging out with his friends. My eyes had found him instantly in the crowded bar, and I couldn’t hide my disappoint that the same thing didn’t seem to happen to him. I could find him in any crowded room, somehow always aware of where he was.
I should be used to the fact that I had feelings for Aspen and he didn’t have them for me. Our intimate encounter last year didn’t faze him one bit. I was just another one of his casual hookups. I knew befor
e we kissed that it wouldn’t mean anything to him. That didn’t stop me from wanting to be wrong. That didn’t stop me from hoping I’d be the girl to change him.
It’s comical—the female brain. Why do we feel like we could be the woman to change a grown ass man? Only the man himself has control of changing his ways. It’s silly of us to think we can be the reason another person changes their way of life.
My friends and I had sidled up to the bar last night. We hadn’t been there fifteen minutes before I was already two shots in. The cute bartender had latched onto me from the very beginning. He was a nice distraction from the uninterested gaze across the bar. Every now and then I swore I could feel Aspen’s eyes on my exposed back, but I think it was my mind—or the shots—playing tricks on me.
Some of the night is hazy. But other parts come flooding through.
I have the distinct memory of being thrown over Aspen’s shoulder. The mental picture of the dirty floor comes to mind, it moving back and forth as Aspen not-so-gently carried me to my car like I was a sack of potatoes and not a grown woman.
I remember a conversation with Aspen in the car—the serious look on his face burned into my mind. He said something, that I recall sending a warm feeling through my body. It’s weird, I can still feel the tingles that shot through my body. I picture the emerald color of Aspen’s eyes as he stared at me intensely. I can even feel the soft touch of his arm as he buckled me into my seat.
But for the life of me, I can’t remember his words. I only remember my body’s reaction to whatever he said.
The car ride home is a complete blur to me. The more I think about it, I might have actually fallen asleep. There are bits and pieces of Aspen putting me to bed. I remember him cussing as he tried to untie the bodysuit I stole from Veronica. His warm fingers had brushed over my bare skin multiple times; my drunk mind didn’t forget that. The two of us had fumbled around as he took it off. I look down at what I slept in, finding that somehow we’d figured it out, because I’m clothed in an old baggy T-shirt and a pair of sleep shorts.
I have a faint memory of a soft brush of lips against my temple. My fingers raise to touch the spot I swore his lips pressed against last night. I can’t figure out if it was a dream or reality.
I’m still trying to test my memory when my door slowly opens, Selma’s head popping in. She has her hair braided in two short braids on each side of her head. Quietly, she slips through the door, shutting it softly behind her once she’s in the room. “Good morning, sunshine,” she whispers, closing the distance to my bed and climbing in.
Without words, I pull the comforter back for her to make room. Then I groan, spinning in the bed to face her.
“Have fun last night?” She gives me a knowing glance, adjusting the pillow until she’s comfortable.
We lie face-to-face, both of us in the bed, my pink comforter pulled up to our shoulders.
“I don’t want to talk about it.” With that, I grunt, trying to rid myself of the memories. “How did you even get in?”
Selma inspects the end of her braid, still smiling. “Aspen let us in.”
My eyes almost bug out of my head. “Aspen’s here? Us?!”
“Us as in me and Maverick. Aspen called this morning to see if we could pick him up. It was pretty hilarious hearing him explain to Maverick why exactly he was at your place. And Aspen was here. The two of them just left. They both have classes to get to. I said you’d give me a ride later, that we needed to chat.”
I pull the pillow over my face once again, trying not to imagine Maverick freaking out when he found out his best friend had stayed over at my place. “Selma, nothing happened between me and Aspen last night.” Hopefully she catches the pleading tone in my voice, I’m desperate for her to know nothing happened between us. Well, last night, at least.
Selma pulls the pillow from my face, waiting to speak until I look at her again. “I know. I don’t think Aspen would’ve called Mav if something had.”
“Then why do we need to chat?”
She looks down at her feet. “I’m going to break up with Maverick.”
I shoot up in the bed, uncovering her in the process. My body moves too quickly though, because the room gets dizzy for a moment. I blink repeatedly until I regain my equilibrium. I look down to find Selma in the same position, sans the blanket on top of her. “I’m sorry, repeat?”
Selma sighs, looking down at the braid in her hand once again. “I need to end things with your brother. Don’t act like this is shocking to you. You’ve told me multiple times that he and I don’t work anymore. If we ever really worked at all.” The last sentence is said as an afterthought, but still I hear it.
She’s right. I had to have a hard talk with her prior to this, during which, I’d told her I thought she and Maverick were both pretending to be happily in love. I was blunt when I’d told her I thought they were comfortable with each other, but not in love. It was a hard position to be in. We’re talking about my brother and my best friend.
But I wanted both of them to be happy. I still do.
I don’t think either of them truly have been, for a long time.
“I just never thought you’d actually do it,” I answer honestly, tracing the ruffle of my comforter with my finger.
The sounds of pots and pans clanking from the kitchen fills the silence between us. I expect Selma to cry or seem emotional when explaining why she’s ending a relationship she’s been in forever, but she lies in front of me, almost emotionless.
“I think Maverick might have feelings for Veronica,” Selma whispers, looking at me with watery eyes, finally showing a hint of emotion.
“Selm…” My hand drifts across the blanket until I take hers in mine. “Maverick would never cheat on you. You know that.”
Selma nods, her braids bouncing off her shoulder with the movement. “Ugh.” She takes a shaky breath, adding, “I know he wouldn’t. And I think it actually makes it worse. Your brother would probably stay with me forever because he feels like it’s his duty to do so. Even if another girl has come in and gotten a good grasp on his heart.”
I reach out and wipe away the lone tear sliding down her porcelain cheek, her brave demeanor finally slipping.
I think of Maverick and Veronica. I don’t think either is aware of the chemistry brewing between the two of them. I can’t sit here and lie to Selma, pretending I don’t see what she’s noticed. Not that I think either Mav or Veronica would act on the chemistry, but I see what Selma saw, too. For some reason, there’s a tether between Maverick and Veronica I don’t think any of us can begin to describe—including them.
“You don’t know what’s in his head,” I offer, holding her hand even tighter.
“I’m not in love with him,” she blurts, taking a pillow and covering her face after the words leave her mouth.
All I can do is nod, trying to process her words fully.
“Don’t get me wrong. I love Maverick, so much. But…I’m not in love with him. At all. It’s taken me a long time to realize it, but I don’t think either of us are in love. We love each other, no doubt, but not with the intensity either of us deserve. If I don’t end it, we’ll stay together forever. I know Maverick won’t end it, and we both deserve a love that’s whole. That’s more than this watered-down relationship we have going on.” Selma finally sits up while speaking, her hand never letting go of mine.
“It takes a lot of bravery to end a relationship you’ve been in for so long. I’m proud of you. I know it couldn’t have been an easy decision.” There’s conviction in my voice.
More tears stream down her face. She uses the hand that isn’t holding mine to try to wipe them away, but they continue to fall, her lip quivering as she exhales a shaky breath.
I close the distance between us and wrap her in a hug.
“You smell like a liquor store,” she mumbles against my neck.
“Oh, stop it. I’m trying to be supportive right here.”
“I’m scared it’ll break
him, Lil.”
I stroke the back of her head, though at the same time, I’m nervous to find out how Maverick will handle the breakup. I think he’s been too obsessed with the idea of his and Selma’s relationship to see how lackluster it’s gotten. To him, they’re supposed to be together forever. I worry he won’t see that they both deserve something better, something real. And his version of real might hit a lot closer to home than he expects.
“He’ll be okay in the end,” I whisper. “You both will.”
Her body shakes with a deep sob and I squeeze her tighter, trying to find the words that will ease not only her heart, but also his. “He’ll be upset at first, but I think once he’s faced with the reality of where things have taken you both, he’ll understand. Maverick has always looked at things in black and white, but once the pain has settled a bit, I think he’ll be able to see the gray area better,” I tell her.
“I just want the all-consuming love. I don’t want to be a responsibility to a man. I don’t want to hold them back. I want our love to make us better as individuals and propel both of us together. That’s not what Maverick and I have. We both need to move on.” She tucks her face deeper into the crook of my neck, her sorrow beginning to soak through the collar of my T-shirt.
I ignore the warm, wet spot developing by my neck, squeezing Selma as hard as I can. My heart aches for her. It aches for my brother. It turns out, you can take two of the best people in the universe (in my humble opinion), make them boyfriend and girlfriend, and still not get that perfect soul-searching happy-ending kind of love.
After a while, Selma takes a deep breath. She pulls back, looking at me with a splotchy face.
I grab both sides of her face, ignoring the wetness underneath my palms. “One day, Selma, you’re going to drive a man completely wild in the best way possible. You won’t be his responsibility. You’ll be his everything. He’ll be consumed by you. And it’ll be the kind of all-consuming love that’s healthy and right. If you leave Mav, I don’t want you settling for anything else. I love you, but if you’re going to break my twin brother’s heart, I need your next love to be worth it. Got it?”
The Road to Finding Us: A Standalone Second Chance Romance (Aftershock Series Book 2) Page 14
