Chapter 29
Genevieve
I glance at the bathroom door again, wondering what’s taking Aspen so long.
The water’s been running forever and I’ve had the movie ready for at least fifteen minutes now.
I settled on The Fast and the Furious, a classic , at least in my book.
I know, not exactly a “cozy mountain night in” type of film, but Vin Diesel?
Come on. That man is my ultimate guilty pleasure.
It’s a crush I’ve kept locked away like state secrets.
I grew up surrounded by brothers, so action movies became second nature to me.
Explosions, fast cars, the kind of adrenaline that makes your heart race. It’s my version of comfort cinema.
Rom-coms never really stuck. Lana and I always clash when it’s movie night, so we compromise with TV series.
We just finished Sex and the City —a wild ride in itself—and now we’re knee-deep in Gossip Girl rewatch territory.
There’s something oddly comforting about watching beautiful disasters unfold from a cushy couch.
While Aspen’s been in the shower, I threw on some comfy clothes: oversized hoodie, fluffy socks, the works.
I could’ve stayed out here wrapped in a towel, but I wasn’t sure what mood he’d be in after such a long day.
I know I’m wiped and I didn’t even snowboard.
He spent the day throwing himself down a mountain for fun, while I was just trying to keep up in the bar with a handful of guests.
Raul was cracking jokes about how his cooking scared off customers.
At least he’s self-aware. And honestly? Working with him felt…
warm. There’s something about Raul that makes you feel taken care of.
He has that same grounding energy Aspen does—steady, kind, real.
And maybe that’s why Aspen terrifies me.
Because… what if he’s it ? What if I was meant to come on this trip; to end up at that party, to meet him, to feel this?
I’ve always believed everything happens for a reason, but it’s hard to make sense of things when they move this fast. I wasn’t supposed to catch feelings.
I didn’t come here looking for love; I just wanted a break, a little time away, a quick fuck. And yet, here he is.
The scariest part is… I’m falling for him.
Aspen makes me feel soft in a way I’m not used to.
He doesn’t need me to mother him, doesn’t lean on me like so many guys do.
With Aspen, I’m not the one holding things together.
He makes me feel held. He makes me feel like a girl in a fairy tale minus the glass slippers and plus a few layers of snow gear.
But there’s always that voice in the back of my head. What happens when I leave?
Because the truth is, we live in two completely different worlds.
He has the mountains, the snow, the quiet.
I have school, city noise, deadlines, people pulling me in a million directions.
How does something like this work when it’s separated by hundreds of miles?
Long-distance is brutal and I don’t know if either of us is cut out for that kind of heartache.
I like touch and Aspen does too. I can feel it in the way he holds me, the way he lingers.
It’s our love language. A phone screen can't replicate that.
The bathroom door swings open and every thought in my head turns to static.
Aspen walks out completely naked, like—not-a-towel-in-sight naked, just one arm resting casually on the doorframe, like he didn’t just casually rock my entire world.
“Uhhh, hello there, sexy,” I say, my voice a little breathier than I intended.
“Hey,” he replies all cool confidence.
I swear it should be illegal to look like that and not give a girl a warning first. I’ve seen him naked, sure, but never like this.
Never under the full glow of the apartment lights, every inch of him is on display like a damn statue carved by the Gods.
I want to lick every single one of those abs. I want to…
“So, what movie did you pick?” He asks cutting through my X-rated train of thought like a splash of cold water.
I clear my throat. “Umm, The Fast and the Furious . Is that okay with you?”
His eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “ You like The Fast and the Furious ?”
“They’re only like my favorite movies,” I say with a grin.
He gives me a look of half impressed, half like he’s trying to figure me out. “Alright, Gen. I may have underestimated you.”
I smirk, “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You just continue to surprise me, that’s all.” He steps forward with a smirk of his own, the kind of expression that makes your heart do gymnastics. “Oh, and uh… lose the clothes, this couch is for naked viewing only.”
I laugh escapes me, trying not to let the way my pulse just kicked into overdrive show on my face. He’s doing this on purpose. He knows what he’s doing; testing me, teasing me, seeing how long I can keep my cool with all of that sitting next to me.
He’s good.
I’m not gonna make it.
And the worst part? I don’t even want to.
Fuck. Him.
***
It’s been about thirty minutes into the movie and I haven’t looked in Aspen’s direction once, not even a glance.
I won’t let myself.
I won’t let him win.
I’m cold, duh, I’m naked but I refuse to cave. My eyes stay locked on the wall where the movie’s being projected, and even though I can feel Aspen’s gaze on me like a damn spotlight, I stay committed. Five more minutes of stubborn silence tick by before he finally breaks it.
“Did I do something?” He asks genuinely confused.
Without looking at him, I reply, “No, I’m just really into the movie,” a total lie.
“Oh, I get it,” he says, sounding completely serious. “So if Paul Walker were sitting next to you naked right now, you’d be more interested?”
My eyes widen. I feel like I just got caught sneaking out of my house in high school, but I try to play it cool. “He’s not my type.”
“Seriously? He’s everyone’s type.”
“Not mine,” I reply still facing the screen.
“Ohhh,” he says and I can already hear the smirk in his voice, “You’re a Vin Diesel girl.”
Shit, I blush. Of course I do, because why wouldn’t my body betray me like that?
“I knew it!” He says triumphant. “All the cool girls pick Vin over Paul.”
“Well, I have good taste,” I fire back, trying to hold onto what little pride I have left.
“Yes, you do, Snowflake,” he murmurs.
And the way he says it, like he means himself, makes my heart skip a beat. He’s not wrong, either.
I keep facing forward, determined. Stubborn. Aspen doesn’t take rejection well, even playful rejection. I know him. He won’t last long before he breaks. He’s just as bad as me.
I hear him shift beside me, then I hear him sigh.
“Alright, that’s it. I’ve had enough of this,” he says and in an instant I’m no longer sitting. Before I can react, Aspen grabs me by the thighs and pulls me toward him. I tumble back onto the couch with a soft gasp, my legs bent on either side of his hips.
Then he leans in and kisses me, hard. Like he’s been waiting all damn day for this.
I feel his dick rub against my clit, but it doesn’t make its way in, yet.
I feel his dick hard. Has he been hard during the entire movie?
His lips trail down my neck, over my collarbone, between my breasts, all the way down to my belly button and then he keeps going.
He kisses me right where I need him most. And lucky for him, I’m already naked.
He blows softly across my clit and I almost whimper. It’s like every nerve in my body lights up at once. When his fingers start circling it, I swear I could melt into the cushions.
Then two fingers slip inside me—he doesn’t even need to ask me. I’m already wet.
“I knew it,” he growls. “You’ve been soaked this whole time, even while ignoring me.”
He props himself up, hovering over me with this smug, wicked look in his eyes. “Tell me the truth, Gen. Are you wet for me… or for Vin Diesel?”
Anyone else asking that would make me burst out laughing but from Aspen, it’s somehow hot. Like dangerously hot. Like you-better-say-the-right-thing-or-I’ll-make-you hot.
“You,” I blurt out without hesitation.
“Good.” He licks his lips and dives back down, his mouth replacing his fingers.
His tongue is torturous—slow, focused, teasing me with purpose. It’s so good I can’t help it. I grind against his face, needing more, chasing that high like my body’s no longer mine to control.
“More,” I beg. “Please.”
He looks up at me, eyes dark, lips glistening, and it’s almost too much. I want all of him.
Now.
Right here, on this couch.
“Anything for you, Snowflake.”
Then he gives me everything.
His fingers slam into me at a brutal pace while his tongue stays locked on my clit, moving in sync like he was made for this. In seconds, I’m unraveling—coming hard in his mouth with a cry I can’t hold back.
He usually lets me breathe after, gives me a second to ride the wave. Not tonight.
Tonight, he’s insatiable.
The moment I catch my breath, he’s lining himself up and without a word he slides inside. The stretch, the fullness, the way he fills me completely, it’s everything. He starts thrusting, hard and fast, still on his knees, holding my hips like he owns me. And right now, he does.
“You feel so good,” he groans, low and rough. “So tight. Just the way I like it.”
I moan, eyes rolling back as I clutch the cushions. My body’s already overstimulated, but somehow, he keeps dragging more pleasure out of me.
We move together like this is something we’ve always done, like we were made for this.
It doesn’t take long before we’re both right there again; breathless, tangled, falling apart at the same time.
When he pulls out, places his cock between our stomachs, his cum splatters all over the both of us.
And when we’ve recovered, with the movie still playing in the background and my body humming, I look at him through half-lidded eyes and smile.
I could seriously get used to this.
I love not having to fake an “O.”
“Alright, I’m gonna go shower again,” Aspen says.
“Okay. I’m too lazy, so just throw me a towel so I can clean up,” I reply.
“Got it,” Aspen says before carefully getting up and placing a quick kiss on my forehead.
He rushes over to the bathroom and closes the door after throwing me a towel. I clean myself up and go wait for him in bed. I could get used to this life.
Sex.
Aspen.
His bed.
It’s the perfect daily routine.
While I lay under the sheets, I look up at the ceiling. I didn’t notice before but I think I see stars.
I head over to the door all excited and flick off the light. When my eyes adjust to the darkness, I look up and see the dull star stickers. Just like the ones I wanted to have so badly as a little girl but never got. They didn’t match the layout of the house- magazine ready.
I jump back in bed and stare at the ceiling. I try to make out any constellations. I spot Cassiopeia immediately. What were the odds he had that constellation up there.
Aspen comes out of the shower, naked again and gets in bed with me.
“Watcha doing, Snowflake?”
“Just looking at the stars.”
“Oh yeah, I just rearranged them. Spot any constellations yet?” He just rearranged them?
“Did you… add Cassiopeia… for me?” I ask.
“What if I did?” He asks.
I blush, but he can’t tell. It’s too dark out.
“You really know how to make a girl fall, don’t you?”
“Honey one thing about me is if I fall, you’re coming with me.”
And I smile the biggest smile I’ve ever smiled over some silly little plastic glow in the dark stars.
Aspen shifts beside me, resting on one elbow as his fingers trace lazy shapes along my arm, then drift lower.
He finds my wrist and he stills.
“What’s this?” he asks, gently brushing his thumb over the thin scar.
I stiffen only for a second but he notices. Of course he does. Aspen notices everything. He’s basically written by a woman.
“Sorry,” he says quickly. “You don’t have to tell me. I just... I noticed it before. I guess I couldn’t stop thinking about it.”
I look down at our hands, his fingers still lightly touching the mark I try not to think about.
“Most people assume it’s... something it’s not,” I say quietly. “It’s not what you think it is.”
He doesn’t respond just waits.
“It happened the night I found out my dad was cheating,” I say. “He tried to stop me from throwing his Golden Globe at the woman he was screwing.”
A pause. A breath.
“It shattered the coffee table. I slipped and one of the broken edges caught me.” I swallow. “It’s stupid. I didn’t even notice it at the time. I was too angry.”
I’m still angry.
Aspen doesn’t say anything for a moment, and that silence is loud in a way that makes me nervous; but then I feel it: his lips press against the scar, soft and slow.
“I hate that you have that,” he says against my skin, “but I’m glad you told me.”
I blink up at the stars on the ceiling, trying not to cry.
“It’s weird,” I whisper. “Sometimes I forget it’s there. Until someone looks at me like they know a secret I don’t want to share.”
He squeezes my hand, “I won’t look at it like that. I promise.”
And somehow, I believe him.
Aspen’s different.