18. Cora
18
CORA
“ I just want to make sure I understand correctly,” Aspen says as we hustle around the inside of our truck, inventorying ingredients and organizing everything for the lunch rush. The truck was an easy fix, but Talon simply taking care of it has more than just my heart warming. My panties are soaked, and while hearing his gruff voice on the phone was a factor, it has more to do with the way he still wanted to take care of me after I’d left last night.
He didn’t have to do it, but it saved me an entire day of work, and our food won’t go bad.
“I already told you what happened,” I groan as Aspen turns to face me.
“Did your best friend leave you stranded on the side of the road and not answer her phone?”
“I already apologized,” I say earnestly. “And yes, I left and came straight back after I got all your messages.”
“And then?” she goads, not bothering to hide her smirk.
“And then we had wild, bang me against the wall sex where he gave me not one but two orgasms and ripped my panties from my body—not in that order.”
“So what’s the problem?”
“I freaked out when he wanted to see my boobs immediately after orgasm number one.”
Her expression softens, and I groan as I lean a hip against the cooler.
“Are you gonna talk to him?”
“Yes,” I concede, nibbling my bottom lip. “I have to give him something, but I’m just not ready to lay it all out on the line. It’s years of trauma and history that he may or may not even remember, and if he doesn’t?—”
“If he doesn’t then I think he’ll still be really sorry he hurt you even if it was a long time ago.”
“It’s taken me so long to get here,” I whisper, the words barely out before Aspen has me wrapped in a tight embrace.
“You’ve worked really hard, Cora, and it’s okay that you like him—great, even—so I think,” she says, pulling back, “it’s worth the conversation. Tell him what you like, what you don’t like, and how you want to be touched.” She gives me a saucy wink. “A man like that is gonna want to know how to pleasure his woman.”
I roll my eyes. “I’m not his woman,” I hiss, reaching around her to grab the tomatoes from the bench.
She snorts. “Right, and I’m a tap-dancing crab.”
“You usin’ that same charm on Phoenix?”
Aspen stills just for a second then shrugs one shoulder. “I won’t chase someone who doesn’t even like me.” Her tone is flippant, but I can tell it hurts her.
“He—”
She holds up her hand and gives me a fake smile. “It doesn’t matter. I’m happy workin’ with you, and I’m happy watching you try to find your own happiness outside this damn truck.”
Aspen turns up the radio, and I watch as she tries for normalcy. My heart hurts for my friend, and even though I felt like Phoenix heard me—I can’t be sure he’ll act on it.
“I can hear you worrying from here, and it won’t help cut up that watermelon I lugged over from the market.”
“I don’t remember you being this grouchy,” I tease, and she bumps me out of the way with her hip.
“Too much sunshine,” she says with a curve of her lips, the smile not reaching her eyes, but I don’t call her on it.
“All right then,” I say, turning my focus back to the task at hand, “what’s left to do?”