4. Aspen
ASPEN
Tobias lives in his parents’ pool house.
His folks are in Europe for six months, and the house is standing empty, but Tobias has remained in the pool house rather than moving into the bigger property.
In fact, he doesn’t even have access to the main house.
I find it strange that they’ve locked their own son out of their home, but it’s not as though they’re close.
I’ve barely met his folks, other than in passing, and Tobias never speaks of them.
They’re always jetting off somewhere or another, and the fact they have a son seems more an inconvenience rather than something they cherish.
I’m not even sure Tobias will be here. He’s supposed to have been working, after all.
A part of me—a big part—hopes he won’t be.
It’ll be easier if I can just grab my things and leave.
I experience a twinge of guilt at the thought.
I don’t have many people in my life, and I’m about to walk out on one of them.
Through the window, blue light flickers on his bedroom wall, and I realize he’s home and on his game console. Irritation needles me. He knew today was the funeral, but he hasn’t so much as messaged me to let me know he got off early. I’d hoped, at the least, he’d have called to see how I am.
I hate feeling disappointed in people. It gnaws at my insides, a weight on my chest. I want to shake it off, but when someone has let me down, I struggle to not automatically see that person differently.
I lightly knock on the door. “Tobes?”
There’s no response, and I knock harder.
From inside comes a curse of annoyance.
He answers the door, letting me in, before going straight back to his bedroom. I follow him, but he’s already playing on his X-box.
“Sorry, I’m in the middle of a game.”
I stand in the doorway, staring at him. “Aren’t you even going to ask me how it went?”
Tobias is a good-looking guy. As shallow as it seems, it was definitely what attracted me to him first. The second thing was his confidence—how he always knew how to talk to people and act around them.
It made me feel like I was a braver person around him, and I’d be more easily accepted by others when I was in his company. That was in the beginning, though.
“Shit, yeah, babe. Of course. How did it go?” He takes his eyes off the screen for a second to flick them to my face. “You look okay.”
“Jeez, thanks.”
He doesn’t even mention my dress, which is a far cry from my usual jeans and sneakers combo.
He shrugs. “Just saying.”
No hug. No kiss. Even those assholes back at the church had the courtesy to say they were sorry for my loss.
I shake my head. “Don’t worry, I won’t interrupt your game for too long. I only came to pick up my stuff.”
“Oh, right. Where are you going?”
“I’m going to stay with my dad’s best friend for a while. He’s offered me a place to crash.”
Tobias frowns. It’s as though he’s only just started paying attention. “You’re going where?”
I huff out a frustrated sigh. “It’s a place called Windridge Hall in the south-central Adirondacks.” I know the location from the invitation I’d sent.
“To live with a man you barely know?”
“I do know him. I’ve known him my entire life. I already told you. He was best friends with my dad when I was growing up. He said you can come visit.”
“And so he’s just taking you in? Like you’re a stray puppy or something?”
I bristle, my hackles going up like the proverbial puppy. “No, like I’m the daughter of his dead best friend who currently doesn’t have anywhere to live. It’s not as though you’ve asked me to move in with you, is it?”
He shifts uncomfortably. “You know I need my space, Aspen. It’s fine you staying here occasionally, but I can’t have you here every night.”
I know what he’s saying. It’s fine for me to stay with him when he wants to get laid, but if he’s got plans with the guys, he doesn’t want me asking where he’s going or cramping his style.
I get it—we’re both young. I’m only eighteen, and he’s just turned twenty-one.
It’s not like I really want to live with him either.
But it’s still hard when he knows I have nothing, and he’d rather watch me struggle than offer me a bed to sleep in and a roof over my head.
We’ve been together a year now, but it’s been on and off, and I haven’t been around much recently because of Dad being so sick.
I told Blake that Tobias is my boyfriend, but we’re not really official.
Whenever I brought it up with Tobes, he always said that he didn’t see a reason for us to define things, and that we were fine as we were.
I guess it suited me like that, too. It meant he couldn’t make demands from me when my focus needed to be on my dad.
“That’s fine,” I say. “I understand. That’s why I’ve come to pick up my stuff, and then I’ll be out of your hair.”
“To go and live with some guy? I don’t want that either.”
I clench my jaw. “You don’t get to tell me where I can live. I need to know I have somewhere and someone I can fall back on. If you’re not going to be that person, then you can’t blame me for looking somewhere else.”
He sits up and frowns, tossing the game console remote to one side. I’ve finally got his undivided attention.
“What are you saying here? Are you breaking up with me?” He fingers the Saint Christopher at the base of his throat, a nervous habit he has.
I throw up my hands. “Can we even break up if we’ve never officially been together?”
He ignores my question. “Is it so you can fuck some guy twenty years older than you?”
My jaw drops, but at the same time, the thought of fucking Blake jumps into my head.
He has a grown man’s body, thick and strong, not like Tobias who has muscles, but is all lean and sinewy.
I imagine Blake would be able to pick me up and throw me over his shoulder without so much as taking a deep breath.
But no, fuck, where did that come from? That’s the last thing I should be thinking of.
To hide my inappropriate thoughts, I get angry. “Fuck you, Tobias. He’s being nice to me, that’s all. You think just ’cause someone is nice to me, it means they want to get in my panties?”
“I know how men think, that’s all.”
“No, you don’t. You know how you think. And anyway, you’re barely more than a boy. Blake is in his forties, and he’s a grown man with his own freaking hotel. You’re not even comparable.”
Blake is a grown man, and I bet he knows exactly what to do with a woman.
A tingle of arousal condenses between my thighs, and my pussy pulses, my nipples tightening.
No, there is no way I’m thinking about that.
Blake sees me as his best friend’s little girl.
He definitely isn’t thinking of me that way.
He’d probably freak the fuck out if I even mentioned it—which I am absolutely not going to do.
I sigh. “I have to go. He’s outside in his truck, waiting for me. I only stopped by to grab my stuff and tell you where I was going.”
Tobias gets to his feet and wraps his arms around me. He suddenly feels small, though I’ve never noticed that before. My cheek presses to the cool metal of the Saint Christopher pendent.
“I’ll just miss you, that’s all. Sorry for being a jealous asshole.”
The trouble is that I don’t think Tobias even is particularly jealous.
I’m not sure he even cares where I am or who I’m with most of the time.
I wonder if I hadn’t needed to pick up my bags if he’d have even noticed I was gone.
I don’t like feeling negatively toward people, but sometimes he makes it hard.
He holds me tighter and nuzzles the side of my neck. “You look good, by the way. I should have told you sooner. That dress is super hot.”
His growing erection jams into my stomach and I push him away. “It’s the dress I bought for my father’s funeral.”
“Jeez, I was only paying you a compliment.”
I shake my head and move on. I don’t have time to get into a fight with him right now, not with Blake sitting out front. “I don’t know what the cell reception will be like out there. Apparently, it’s kind of remote, but I’m sure there will be Wi-Fi.”
“No worries, babe. Call me when you can.”
He plants a kiss on my mouth then throws himself back on the bed and picks his controller back up. Within seconds, he’s lost in the game once more, and I might as well not even exist.
I gather my few meagre belongings, including my portfolio, trying not to feel depressed at the idea that this is all I have that’s mine, and then leave the pool house without saying another word.
Blake is waiting beside his vehicle, and he smiles as he sees me approach. He takes my bag and carries it to the trunk. I keep hold of the large, black folder that contains my life’s work.
“What’s that?” He nods down to the portfolio.
I don’t know why it embarrasses me. “My work.”
“I didn’t realize you were working.”
I clear my throat. “I mean, I guess it’s a hobby, really… I draw… in pencil, mainly, though sometimes I use charcoal.”
God damn. Why do I always feel like such an idiot?
“I remember how you were always scribbling on paper as a kid.” He cocks his head curiously. “Have you earned any money from it?”
“Yeah, but not much. I’ve sold a few bits online, and done a couple of commissioned pieces, too.”
His face breaks out in a grin. “Well, if it’s earned you money, it sounds like work to me.”
I don’t know why I need that validation, but I do, and a tight knot closes over my throat.
How many times have I heard ‘get a real job?’ That’s not so easy for me.
If only people understood how difficult I find even the simplest things, like filling in a form online.
People might think it’s easier with computers, but a computer doesn’t always know when you get something wrong or have completely misread a question.
My brain likes to switch letters and words around, so even when I think I’ve been able to read something correctly, I haven’t.