Chapter 5
Eve gaped at Aspen. They’d hit the road again as soon as Aspen had finished packing, and Aspen had spent the drive regaling her with stories of hers and Michael’s misspent youth. “You seriously snuck out of a wedding, stole golf carts, and took them for a joyride?”
“Yup.” Aspen grinned, looking adorably proud of the mischief they’d gotten into. “Tore up the entire eighteenth fairway spinning donuts. But that’s not the best part.”
Eve arched a brow. That sounded ominous, but in an absolutely hilarious kind of way. “What’s the best part?”
“Michael crashed his into the water on sixteen.” Aspen sniggered. “It was fantastic.” She made a whooshing motion with her right hand. “He caught so much air.”
“Oh my god.”
“Right?” Aspen replied, her beautiful face positively alight with glee.
Eve shook her head. She’d have been grounded for the rest of her life if she pulled a stunt like that. “Did you get caught?”
“Well, I mean, yeah.” Aspen glanced at her phone as the GPS directed her to take a left at the coming intersection and flicked on her blinker. “But not because anyone saw us or anything; security cameras weren’t so ubiquitous back then. Michael was fucking soaked. And kind of bleeding from a minor head wound,” she added with a wry grimace.
“A minor head wound…” Eve echoed.
“Super minor,” Aspen emphasized as she turned onto the two-lane road that would take them to Eve’s parents’ house. “It only needed like three stitches.”
Eve’s pulse stumbled into a familiar trot as they started up the mountain road. They were almost there. “So, what happened?” she asked, fighting to hold onto this slice of normality for as long as possible.
“I don’t know if you’ve ever seen him in action, but Michael is a fucking amazing bullshitter,” Aspen shared as she took a curve at speed. “I mean, I’m good, but he’s just…” She finished the thought with an impressed sounding whistle. “Anyway, we totally pulled a story out of our asses about how we decided to go for a walk around the course and a deer sprinted right up to us and knocked Michael into one of the water hazards.”
“And they believed you?”
“I mean, eh?” Aspen pulled a face. “But our parents were long-standing members, and we really did a killer job selling it. And Michael was bleeding, like, everywhere, because head wounds do that, so they just shook their heads, muttered something about the two of us being trouble together, and hustled him off to the emergency room to get his head looked at.”
“That’s…” Eve’s voice trailed off as Aspen slowed to turn into a long, sweeping driveway that led up a steep incline. Because it was the dead of winter and the trees were bare, they had a nearly unobstructed view of the sprawling eleven-bedroom estate at the end of the drive.
“Oh damn,” Aspen muttered.
“Right?” Eve squeezed her eyes shut and pinched the bridge of her nose as she focused on her breathing, slowing each inhale to a count of four beats, holding for seven, and exhaling over eight. It helped as much as it ever did—which was minimally—but even a little relief was better than nothing.
You can do this, she told herself. You’re strong, and you’re not alone. Aspen’s here. She’s capable. And she’s on your side.
“Eve?” Aspen’s voice sounded like it was coming from a distance much further than the seat beside hers.
Eve gritted her teeth and doubled down on her breathing exercises as her awareness shrank to the tightness in her chest and the way her pulse pounded deafeningly in her ears. Aspen’s stories had been helping stem the anxiety that was her constant companion whenever her parents were near, but that reprieve had clearly run its course.
Shit.
Eve wanted to cry. God, she fucking hated this. She was almost thirty, for fuck’s sake. She wasn’t a kid anymore—why wasn’t it getting better?
Breathe in, two, three, four. Hold. Hold. Hold. Hold. Come on. Just a little longer. There. And out, two, three, four, five, six, seven, again. In…
It didn’t help. She couldn’t breathe. Goddamn it all, she couldn’t fucking breathe.
Tears stung at her eyes as she frantically tugged at the collar of her sweater, desperate for relief. It didn't help though. She couldn’t get the collar far enough away to breathe. The shirt wasn't the problem, but the crew neck kept touching her throat, feeling like it was strangling her.
“Are you— Oh no. Hey, Eve, listen to me. You’re not in any danger, okay?” Aspen’s words were urgent but sounded increasingly like a distant echo. “You’re right here with me. Come back, please?”
Eve was so trapped in her thoughts that she didn’t register the fact that the car had stopped or that her controlled breaths had turned into desperate, ragged gasps. She wasn’t aware of anything beyond the tightness in her chest and the panic that had wrapped its fist around her throat.
“Can you see me, Eve? I’m right here. Listen to my voice. Or look around and tell me something that you see?”
Embarrassment.
Such a waste of potential.
Her parents damning condemnations from years past pinballed back and forth across her brain, each rebound eliciting a fresh wave of stomach-churning desperation to flee. To escape.
To fucking survive.
“Can you tell me something you see, Eve?” Aspen asked, her voice low and cautious. “Just one thing.”
Eve sucked in a sharp breath. Right. She knew this. She could do what Aspen was asking. She blinked, and Aspen’s furrowed brows and intense, pleading eyes came slowly into focus. “Brown eyes.”
“Good girl,” Aspen murmured. Her hands were gentle as she carefully plied Eve’s away from the collar of her sweater. “Now tell me something you can touch.”
Eve twisted her hands in Aspen’s and clasped them like they were the only thing keeping her tethered to earth. “You.”
Aspen’s cheeks twitched with a smile. “Yeah, you have me. Tell me something you can hear.”
Eve’s throat constricted. Beyond her heart that thundered in her ears, the only thing she could hear was Aspen. The voice in the back of her head that had worked through these steps with her therapist suggested that she should be looking for something else to ground herself, but right now all she could focus on was Aspen. “Your voice.”
“Okay. Good.” Aspen’s thumbs brushed over the backs of her hands. “Something you smell?”
Eve closed her eyes and breathed in deeply. It was only when she was focusing on what she was smelling that she noticed the notes of Aspen’s cologne. It was woodsy and masculine, but subtle, like sunshine on a summer’s breeze, and she blinked her eyes open as she reported, “Sandalwood and vanilla.”
“Spot on,” Aspen murmured. She inclined her head, and Eve stared, transfixed by the way Aspen’s full, pink lips moved as she said, “Last one, beautiful, girl. Something you taste.”
Eve’s pulse thudded as she watched Aspen’s lips form the word taste . She shook her head.
“You can do it,” Aspen murmured. She gathered both of Eve’s hands in her left and reached up with her right to gently tuck an errant strand of Eve’s hair behind her ear. “Just one thing.”
Eve’s breath caught at the feeling of Aspen’s fingers against her cheek, so soft, warm, and steadfast. Her heart lodged itself in her throat as she continued to stare at Aspen’s mouth. “I… Aspen…” I want to know what you taste like.
“One thing,” Aspen murmured as she cradled Eve’s jaw in her hand.
Eve shook her head. “Can’t,” she gasped.
“You can,” that perfect mouth encouraged.
Eve shook her head as her breathing sped. Her mouth was suddenly cotton. She couldn’t taste anything. In fact, as her breaths came harder and faster, she found herself losing the few handholds Aspen had managed to lead her to. Gone was the subtle, reassuring scent of Aspen’s cologne. She blinked and gasped for air as Aspen’s face began to blur. Fuck. She’d had it. She’d been right fucking there, right on the precipice of getting her hard-won control back, and now she’d gone and lost it again.
Shit.
Shit.
Shit.
She yanked her hands away from Aspen’s and clawed at the collar of her sweater that was once again too goddamn tight on her neck. The rapid-fire gasps falling from her lips were panicked, but she couldn’t do anything to slow them. Her skin felt like it was crackling with electricity and her head full of angry, swarming wasps, and wanted to cry out to Aspen for help, but all she could do was yank at the neck of her sweater while she slowly but surely hyperventilated.
“Damn it. No, no, no.” Aspen’s hands were as soft as velvet as they slid along her jaw. “Come on, beautiful girl. It’s you and me here. You can do this. Look at me.”
Eve shook her head. She couldn’t. She needed to breathe. Fuck it all, she just needed to breathe and she’d be okay, but she couldn’t, she couldn’t, she—
And then, suddenly, she could.
The world rushed back in on her like a tidal wave as Aspen’s lips pressed against hers. The kiss was chaste and sweet, but it was most definitely a kiss, and she whimpered as she melted into the connection, her lips parting instinctively to search for more of that warmth. That comfort. That gentle, oh so tender, assurance that she wasn’t alone. Tears spilled down her cheeks as the first brush of Aspen’s tongue against her own rang through her like a bell, banishing the ghosts that’d been tormenting her in a resounding, powerful wave. Her pulse gradually slowed to match the constant, metronomic swipe of Aspen’s thumbs over her cheeks as one kiss bled into another until every last vestige of her panic attack had disappeared as if it’d never existed in the first place.
She wrapped a hand around Aspen’s wrists as their kisses slowed, and blew out a trembling breath as Aspen’s forehead pressed solidly against hers. Aspen didn’t speak, didn’t push, just let her come back to herself and the world in her own time. And maybe she should have waited until she felt a little more grounded, a little more in control of herself before speaking, because instead of thanking Aspen, she whispered, “You kissed me.”
“I did,” Aspen confirmed just as softly. “I’m sorry.”
The uncertainty in Aspen’s voice that tugged at Eve’s heart, and it was that impetus that gave her the strength to blink her eyes open. “Why?”
“Well, I…I was worried and…” Aspen’s eyes danced over Eve’s face. “I’m sorry for crossing a line—”
Eve interrupted her with the two words she should have said to begin with, “Thank you.” It wasn’t enough to chase away the concern in Aspen’s gaze, so she added, “You didn’t cross a line, Aspen.”
Aspen’s eyes crinkled as she argued, “I mean, I kind of did.”
“Maybe.” Eve lightly caressed the inside of Aspen’s wrists. It was suddenly very important to her that Aspen not regret it. Regret her. “But I was wondering what it would be like to kiss you, and now I know.” She took a deep breath, and was relieved by the way it filled her lungs completely. “You’re a very good kisser.”
Aspen’s soft puff of laughter sent a delicious ripple down Eve’s spine. “I’m glad you think so.” Eve’s eyes fluttered as Aspen tenderly traced the arcs of her cheeks with her thumbs. “Especially because that wasn’t even my best work.”
“Oh?” Eve leaned into the touch and smiled when, instead of replying, Aspen pressed a kiss to her forehead, instead. “I like that, too,” she confessed.
Aspen nuzzled closer. “Me too.” She sighed as she pulled away. “Do you really want to do this? We can fuck right off back to my place, or get a hotel room, or—”
“It’ll be fine,” Eve assured her, touched by her protective rambling. “I should be okay for the rest of the week. I’ve progressed enough that it usually takes a while to repeat.”
“I hate that it happens at all.”
“Yes, well…” Eve smiled sadly. “At least I got it out of the way early.” Her brow furrowed as a new thought occurred to her. “Wait, you recognized what I was going through, didn’t you? And somehow you knew what to do?”
Aspen took a deep breath and nodded. “I’ve had a few of my own.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Maybe I’ll tell you about it some other time. For now, though…” Aspen searched her eyes. “Eve, if your parents cause you this much anxiety, are you really sure you want to do this?”
“Want to? Not at all. But I need to.” Eve pressed a finger to Aspen’s lips to silence the argument she could see building in her gaze. “For me. I need to prove to myself that I am stronger than they think I am.”
Aspen nodded and kissed the tip of Eve’s finger. “Okay. But if you change your mind, I will get us out of here so fucking fast their heads will spin.”
Eve’s heart lodged itself in her throat. Maybe it was the protective glint in Aspen’s eyes, or the determined set of her jaw—or maybe it was because Aspen had seen her at her weakest, and still trusted her to know herself and her limits—but whatever the case, it was in that moment that Eve realized she could very easily fall in love with Aspen Collier-West.