Chapter 64 Aspen
Aspen
The Tavern finally settles after midnight.
Not quiet.
It never really gets quiet anymore.
But softer.
Safer.
Like everyone is catching their breath at the same time.
Dylan fell asleep an hour ago, curled up on the couch with Buddy pressed against his side like a guard dog on duty. Grandpa is resting in the back bedroom, calmer tonight than he’s been in days.
Rylie turned in.
Trigger is still awake. I saw him kiss his wife, Rylie, when she left the room.
Of course, he did. Anyone with eyes can see how much in love they are.
And Havoc…
I find him exactly where I knew he’d be.
Sitting up.
Not resting.
“You’re supposed to be lying down,” I say quietly.
He doesn’t look at me right away.
“Couldn’t sleep.”
I step closer.
Not too close.
Just enough.
“Pain?” I ask.
“Some.”
“That’s not helpful.”
A faint smirk touches his mouth.
“There’s more.”
I cross my arms.
“Of course there is.”
Silence stretches between us.
But it’s not uncomfortable.
Not really.
It’s… something else.
“You always do that?” he asks after a moment.
“Do what?”
“Take control of everything.”
I let out a small breath.
“Only when no one else does.”
He nods slowly.
Like that answer makes sense to him.
“It suits you,” he says.
My chest tightens.
Just a little.
“Yeah,” I reply softly. “Well… someone has to keep you alive.”
That does it.
He looks at me then.
Really looks.
And the air shifts.
“You’d do that for anyone,” he says.
It’s not a question.
It’s a boundary.
I hold his gaze.
“For someone who needs it? Yeah.”
Something flickers in his eyes.
Something complicated.
“Right,” he says quietly.
And there it is again.
That wall.
Tank.
The past.
Everything unsaid standing between us.
I step closer before I can stop myself.
My hand reaches out.
Not planned.
Not thought through.
I rest it lightly against his ribs.
Checking.
Professional.
But the second I touch him—
He stills.
Not from pain.
From me.
“You shouldn’t be sitting up,” I say, my voice softer now.
“Probably not.”
But he doesn’t move.
Neither do I.
The space between us disappears without permission.
“Why didn’t you tell me it hurt this much?” I ask.
“Didn’t want you to worry.”
That breaks something small in my chest.
“I was already worried,” I whisper.
His breath catches.
Just slightly.
“You weren’t supposed to be,” he says.
“Too late.”
Silence again.
But this time—
It’s heavier.
Closer.
His hand shifts on the sofa.
Not toward me.
But not away either.
And for one second…
One dangerous, impossible second…
I think about closing that distance completely.
About leaning in.
About forgetting everything else.
“This can’t happen.”
His words from earlier echo in my head.
I pull my hand back.
Step away.
Distance.
Safe again. “I should check on Grandpa,” I say.
He nods.
Doesn’t stop me.
But I feel his eyes on me the entire way out.
And I know—
That almost just happened.