CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Aspen
I feel a tongue lapping at my face and crack an eye open. Groaning, I roll my face into the pillow trying to stop the assault. Puck sniffs around my neck, tickling me, and I realize I’m never going back to sleep. Reluctantly, I roll over and check the time—it’s ten in the morning. I drag myself out of bed and trudge downstairs to feed Puck. My phone pings. When I check the screenI see a text from Evie telling me the boys are playing and not to rush—to pick up Tucker whenever I’m ready.
I fire off a text thanking her, then spend the morning lounging around and trying like hell to get rid of this god-awful hangover. I’m still camped out on the couch watching a trash reality show when River finally emerges from her room.
“Rough night, huh?”
“Understatement of the century. Remind me never to drink like that again,” I state, shifting my focus from her back to the TV.
“Want to talk about it?” She settles in at the end of the couch, then grabs a throw blanket from the back, resting it over her lap as she tucks her feet underneath her.
I shift my focus back to her. “Not particularly, no.” Then I amend with a puff of air, “Cal and I got into a huge fight.”
She hums but waits for me. I don’t want to go into the confusing details. “Ugh. I don’t know what is going on with us, to be honest.” I’m not in the headspace to deep dive into my complicated relationship with Cal, so I change the subject. “I’m sorry I left you like that. It was inexcusable.”
She waves a hand in the air like it’s no big deal. “I made it home okay. Plus, I had Hannah and the guys with me. When I saw you run after Cal, I knew you wouldn’t be coming back. But hey, thanks for leaving me with Carter.” She laughs, but I still feel like a shit friend.
By three o’clock we both finally feel alive enough to make it to Evie and Ivan’s house to pick up Tucker. Evie opens the door to greet us. Her beautiful brown skin simply glows, and her baby bump is a bit bigger than when I met her. Curly chestnut hair is pulled into a mess on top of her head, and she’s wearing red Adidas joggers. Evelyn Lukov is stunning. Even if this woman showed up to a gala in a trash bag, she would still hold the attention of every person in the room. Brown, calculated eyes stare back at me as we sit across from each other on her couch.
“The boys are playing in the game room. I put on a pot of coffee; it looks like you could really use it. What did you get into last night?” She asks me, but River cuts in with her big fat mouth.
“Let’s see, after the hockey game, we went to The Sapphire Lounge, where she got possessive over Cal because the bartender called him Hotshot. Then he got possessive over her because she was dancing with another guy. He went batshit crazy on the guy, and I’m pretty sure he broke the dude’s nose. Then she and Cal had their first fight. Well, first fight as ‘friends.'" She uses quotations. “That pretty well sums it up, right?” She giggles at my expense.
“Oh my . . . Want to talk about it?” Evie asks me with both brows raised.
Taking my hair down, I retie it back into a tighter ponytail. I curl my feet underneath me on the couch, and I get comfortable, knowing this is going to be a long conversation. I’m recounting in detail what happened when Ivan walks through the living room. He makes everyone a cup of coffee, then hands one to each of us.
“The guy is in love with you. He may not know it yet, but that doesn’t make it false.” Evie tells me while Ivan sits down quietly, keeping his thoughts to himself.
I shake my head in denial. “He’s not.”
“Either you’re blind or dense . . .” River trails off seeing my annoyance. “I’m just saying.” She holds her hands up defensively.
Evie stands, moving to sit beside me, and places her tiny hand on my knee. “Did you know that Ivan and I hated each other for the longest time?” A laugh lurches from her chest as I look at her incredulously. These two are the epitome of a perfect couple. There’s no way they ever hated each other. “It’s true. He was my brother’s best friend in high school. I thought he was a pompous shithead, and he thought I was . . .”
Ivan cuts her off. “Don’t go assuming you know what I thought, Sparrow . . . I always thought you were perfect.”
My brows draw in confusion. “Sparrow?”
Evie rolls her eyes. “He used to say I was loud and annoying; he said that I squawked like a bird. He’s been calling me Sparrow since my junior year in high school.”
Ivan shakes his head. “That’s not why. It’s because a sparrow is a type of spiritual symbolism, and Baby, being ‘round you makes me feel closer to heaven.” He chuckles.
She barks a laugh. “Damn right. Do you know how many times you came close to heaven in high school? Every time you pulled a prank on me, you were on the verge of death.” She raises one eyebrow at him, and we all bust up laughing. “This one time, I had just showered and washed my hair. I have type three-b hair; let’s just say it can get nappy. Well, when I tried to use a wide-tooth comb, it wouldn’t easily move through my hair like normal. I couldn’t figure out why. I finally went to the shower, grabbed the co-wash bottle, and smelled the contents. This asshole had replaced my co-wash with some white girl shit that doesn’t mesh well with my hair type. I think it was Suave or something cheap like that. I was already late for school, so I had to go to school with an afro. I rocked that shit, though. But I was so mad; I could’ve choked him out.” She laughs.
“Eventually, you did . . .” Then I catch him mouthing to her: with your thighs. The way they are with each other, seeing a true connection like theirs, makes me want the same thing for myself more so than I ever have.
Evie giggles and rolls her eyes, then directs her attention back to us before clearing her throat, “Anyways,” she exaggerates the word. “We drove each other up the wall. We were always bickering, and pulling pretty shitty pranks on each other . . .”
Ivan cuts her off. “Yeah, like that time you retaliated for the shampoo prank. It was about a week later, and I should have known to sleep with one eye open. This woman . . .” He points a finger at Evie. “Took a set of her dad’s clippers right up the middle of my head while I was sleeping. She gave me a reverse mohawk.”
I imagine Ivan with a two-inch-wide bald strip down the center of his white head and bark out a laugh.
Evie stands up, walks to Ivan, and sits on his lap, running her fingers through his long, wavy hair. “He had to completely shave those beautiful brown locks right off. Went to school with a bald head that Monday. He was so traumatized, that to this day he still hates getting his hair cut.” She giggles. “Somewhere along the way our feelings morphed from hate into love. It took five years of rivalry for us to admit we’d always had a thing for each other. I guess his pranks were his way of flirting. We were in college by the time we called a truce. Now, I’m not comparing you and Cal to us; your situation is completely different. I will say there was a lot of tension. You two really went at each other when you first met; so much so, I’m not sure which surprises me most: that you’re both still alive or that you haven’t jumped in the sack with each other.” They all laugh in unison.
Ivan points at me. “For the first time since I’ve known him, he’s happy, and he gets out of the house. Granted, it’s only for hockey or for you and Tucker, but I see a significant difference in him. Six months ago, you would’ve never caught him in a club. Aspen, you and Tucker have changed him.”
“I think Tucker has more to do with it than me,” I counter.
Evie shakes her head. “Tucker may have been a conductor, but you were the catalyst.”
I thought I was losing him, but I don’t want to voice that to my friends. “He acted more like a jealous boyfriend than my friend last night, and I don’t know what to make of that.”
River rolls her eyes and makes a pfft sound at me. “Oh puhleez. What was that little performance at the bar? You don’t own the nickname Hotshot, you know? Like you weren’t acting like a jealous girlfriend.”
I let her words wash over me. I was jealous over that blonde bartender. She’s insanely gorgeous, and it hit me wrong when she called him by the nickname I gave him. A possessive feeling I don’t understand washes over me at the thought. Ugh. I pinch the bridge of my nose.
“Just go talk to him. Maybe you will understand each other better.” Ivan pipes in.
Evie pulls me into a hug that feels so motherly. “It will all work out how it’s supposed to.”
After we arrive home, have dinner, and watch recaps of last night’s hockey game on T.T.S.N., I help Tucker into bed. I call Teagan to fill her in on last night's debacle—in case she needs to do damage control. Knowing it’s probably time to clear the air, I make the decision to walk over to Cal’s house so we can talk. I haven’t heard from him at all today, but if he is feeling like I’ve been feeling, it’s unsurprising.
“Hey.” I knock on River’s door and crack it. “I’m going to Cal’s. Are you okay to watch Tucker?”
“Go get your man.” She giggles, and I roll my eyes at her.
“You know that isn’t what this is.” I shoot her a pointed look. Though I want it to be, but the thought of putting my trust in another man and allowing him the chance to walk away from me—from Tucker—is terrifying.
Once I cross the street and make my way to Cal’s house, I knock on the door, but there’s no answer. The lights are on, and his car is in the driveway. I ring the doorbell and wait for a few minutes before knocking again. Still nothing. I jiggle the door handle, and it’s unlocked, so I peek in.
“Cal?” I call out. No answer.
Looking around the house, I make my way inside and call again, “Cal?” Still no answer.
I pluck my phone out of my back pocket to call him but catch movement in the backyard as he plops down in a lounger by the pool. I grab a blanket from the blanket rack beside his couch, open the French door, then close it behind me with a soft click.
Cal
“What are you doing out here? It’s freezing.”
I startle in surprise at the sound of Aspen’s voice. I didn’t hear anyone walk up. I crane my neck to find her walking towards me with one of my blankets wrapped around her shoulders. “It’s not freezing; it’s fifty degrees out here. Actually, it’s really warm for an October night.”
She invades my space, drops her ass down next to me in my oversized lounger, and stares up at the sky. “Look, I’m from Oklahoma, where the temperature is set on hell from May to November. Seventy degrees is freezing to me.” Aspen wraps herself tighter in the blanket as we sit in silence for a few long minutes. She looks into the night sky. “Do you believe in extraterrestrials?” She finally asks, breaking the silence.
The question is so out there, no pun intended, that it forces a laugh out of me. “That’s a random question. Are you trying to say I must be an alien because I like sitting outside when it’s fifty degrees?”
She chuckles. “Maybe.” She sighs. “No. I’m genuinely curious.”
I think about the question. “Which kind of extraterrestrials are we talking about? The kind from ET , Men in Black , Alien , or X-Files ?” I ask with my head tilted back, staring out into the dark sky. From my periphery, I can see the lights of my pool reflect a turquoise glow on her skin. I turn my head towards her, awaiting her answer.
“I guess more like X-Files or, oh, maybe even Roswell .” A smile lights up her face. The sight of her causes my stomach to dip in a weird way, and my heart begins to pound out of my chest.
I turn back, staring into the endless night. “I mean, part of me is a realist. I don’t know if I believe there are aliens walking around on earth in skin suits. But then again, I think about all the galaxies in space, and it’s kind of hard to believe we are the only living beings in the entire universe.”
“Same.” Aspen shifts her body to face me, lying on her side. I turn my body to mirror her. Her emerald eyes dance across my face. My eyes fall to her lips as they move; I want to know what it would be like to kiss those lips. What would they taste like?
“Sometimes I wonder what the purpose of all of this is, you know? Like, why are we here? Why do bad things happen to us? But then I look at my son, and realize I don’t need all the answers; I’m just glad to be here and to simply have him. Perhaps my purpose here is to be his mom, or maybe it’s just to be, who knows? Or, maybe, just maybe, the reason for everything crappy that happens in our lives is a juxtaposition—it’s there so we can find joy. It’s like yin and yang. How would you know peace if there was no chaos?”
This woman amazes me every time she opens her mouth. She can be so playful one minute, then philosophical and deep the next. Every moment spent together, I find myself falling a little deeper.
“Perhaps,” I say, truly meaning it. “Who knows? And whatever the universe has in store for us, I have to believe there’s a reason for it; otherwise, what’s the point, right?”
The conversation has me reflecting on my own life and the things that have happened to me. What was the purpose of it all? Everything is too painful to even think about, and it makes me wonder why life is so cruel. Like, why hand me something just to snatch it away? Aspen’s voice pulls me from my thoughts before they spiral and put me in a somber mood.
She sits up and pulls the blanket from around her shoulders, then covers us both up with it. Placing both hands under her cheek, she settles back in, lying sideways to face me again. “I don’t know what happened between us last night, but Cal, you’re quickly becoming one of my closest friends. I’m sorry I acted like a jealous girlfriend. I don’t want to lose your friendship because I was being an idiot.”
I tuck a piece of loose hair behind her ear. “Me too. I don’t know what got into me. Well, I do know . . . it was the alcohol, but that’s no excuse. I made an ass out of myself. I don’t want to lose you either.”
I was a complete jerk, I know. All these feelings are so foreign to me; I don’t know how to act or what to say. She makes me feel, and it’s fucking terrifying, but the thought of Aspen and Tuck not being in my life is unfathomable. “I want you to know I’m not going anywhere. I know those are just words to you right now, but it’s something I will prove to you and to Tuck.”
I awake with Aspen wrapped tight in my arms; the crisp autumn morning air kisses our skin. The emotional weekend must have drained our bodies because we crashed on the lounger together. I haven’t slept that well in what seems like forever.My arm is numb as hell; the lounger is cutting into my hip, and even though there’s a chill in the air, the sun beats down on one of my legs sticking out from the blanket. But that’s not what wakes me. No, it’s the shadow looming over my face. I crack open an eye to find River standing directly above us, her heart-shaped face peering down into mine, and her long blonde hair tickling my nose. Laughter spills from her lips as she straightens up and allows sunlight to hit me right in the face. The bright, beaming rays of light feel like fire has been set to my retinas, and it causes me to squint. I quickly jerk my hand up to shield my eyes.
With one quirked eyebrow, River greets me, “Good morning, Frat boy. Don’t you have a practice to get to? It’s already seven thirty in the morning, and the boss lady is going to be late for work.”
I reach over and cover my watch with my hand to check the time as Aspen stirs. “Time to get up, Firecracker,” I whisper in her ear as I gently run the back of my hand down her arm.
“Mmm. No! You’re so comfy and warm,” she muffles, burrowing deeper into my chest, drawing a chuckle out of me.
“Come on, we have work,” I try again, nudging her.
Aspen springs up, almost knocking me in the face. She looks around for a few seconds. “Oh my god! Tucker!” She panics, but then she spots River and plops her head back down on my arm, sending thousands of needles prickling down it. She groans and covers her eyes with the crook of her elbow.
River gives Aspen’s foot a hard shake. “Tucker is dressed and fed. I’ll run him to school, but you need to get up, Sweet Cheeks. The boss is going to be mad if we’re late.”
Aspen sits up and swings her legs over the side of the oversized lounger. “I am the boss, but fine!” She huffs and stands, holding out a hand to help me up. I grab her hand and playfully pull her back down, causing a giggle to burst out of her. She makes another attempt and successfully makes it back to her feet.
“Can you give us a sec?” She asks River.
River turns around and moseys her way toward the side of the house, throwing up a peace sign. “Deuces,” she calls out, “Oh, coffee is made, grumpy ass. I’ll see you at work.”
Aspen attempts to help me up again. “Not much of a morning person, I see,” I say to her.
Without a word, she gives an exaggerated shrug of one shoulder, then trails after me into the house.
Once we’re inside, I wrap her up in a tight hug, resting my cheek on the top of her head; the scent of her floral perfume fills my senses. She smells incredible. I press my lips to her hair.I want to go back and tell her that she’s been taking over my thoughts. I want to tell her that I want to be with her. But I can’t, so instead I settle on, “Thank you for last night.”
She squeezes me. And God, does her body feel right against mine. “That’s what friends are for.” She releases me. “You know . . . I was thinking,” she adds, opening the front door and looking back at me.
I cast her a smirk.
She looks at me with so much vulnerability. “I never in a million years thought I would say this, but I think we’re best friends now.”
I place my hands in my pockets. “Yeah, we’re the best of friends.” My voice is thick with emotion. I’ve never felt this way about anyone. How can I feel so deeply about someone other than my wife? Shame washes over me, but I smile at her to mask the emotion.
“Thank you for last night. See you at work, bestie .” She responds, walking out, letting the door close softly behind her.
I groan and rub my hands down my face. I’m truly and utterly fucked.