Chapter 16 #2
Aspen and Maddy locked eyes. And Aspen was certain at that moment that the week of stolen kisses and interruptions had been just as excruciating for Maddy as it had been for her.
Aspen could have crossed the sand and kissed her right then. She wanted to. But there was a whole afternoon of labor to get through, and Aspen had picked up a thing or two about delayed gratification this week, even if it was against her will.
But seeing the way Maddy was looking at her right now, knowing the anticipation was driving her just as crazy, nearly made Aspen’s resolve crumble.
Nearly. Not quite. Because she had discovered something else this week that she knew would make it worth the wait—and that was how much she loved to hear Maddy beg.
So for now, they had a job to do.
“Alright, step aside and let the master fix this atrocity you call a net,” Aspen said, stepping up to the pole. She shooed Maddy aside with her hand when Maddy didn’t move.
Maddy rolled her eyes and stepped aside. “Oh my God, the height is fine. It’s exactly where it’s supposed to be.”
“I’ll just…” Aspen gave the crank a little wiggle and the rope a tiny tug —not actually changing anything—then dusted off her hands and took a step back, admiring the net. “There. Perfect.”
Maddy looked at the net, then at Aspen, then back at the net. “You didn’t do anything.”
“Sure I did. I fixed it.” Aspen gestured towards the net. “Now come on, we’ve no time to waste. Chop chop.” She headed towards the four shade tents that were still in their sleeves.
Maddy followed her. “I swear to God if you chop chop me again, I’m going to chop chop your head off.”
Aspen burst into laughter. “Easy there, Ed Kemper.” She crouched down and unzipped the first tent sleeve. “You hold the sleeve, I’m gonna drag it out.”
They got to work— laying the tents out, raising the legs, locking them in place, moving onto the next one, then hammering in the stakes. Aspen enjoyed this kind of work—a clear task, being outdoors, her body in motion, Maddy Sterling six feet away in a tank top.
As she watched Maddy, it was clear that she was very familiar with this kind of work. Aspen didn’t know exactly what Maddy’s field producer job entailed in Fiji, but she presumed Maddy ran her production set the same way she ran the Cup setup: fast, certain, bossy, and extremely efficient.
Maddy had two shade tents fully staked into the sand and squared before Aspen finished staking one, and she did it while running a continuous critique of Aspen’s technique the entire time. “You’re choking up too high on the handle.”
Aspen looked at her own hands on the hammer. Her grip was fine. She slid it two inches higher and brought it down again, deliberately terribly.
That got Maddy’s attention. She stopped, hands on her hips. “Now you’re doing it wrong on purpose.”
“Am I?” Aspen hit the stake again, worse, and watched it skew sideways in the sand. “Hm. Somebody should probably come show me.”
For a second, Maddy just looked at her, and Aspen watched the moment she clocked the game and decided she was going to play it.
She crossed the sand, fit herself in close behind Aspen, and reached both arms around to close her hands over Aspen’s on the handle.
Her front pressed all along Aspen’s back, and her chin came to rest near Aspen’s shoulder.
“Here.” Maddy’s breath was warm against her ear. “Hold down here. Let the weight do the work for you.”
She guided one controlled swing, and the stake sank straight into the sand.
Aspen’s heart started racing from the combination of Maddy’s scent and the feeling of her body pressed against hers. “Huh,” she got out. “Would you look at that.”
Maddy didn’t step back. Her thumb dragged once across Aspen’s knuckles, and her mouth was still at Aspen’s ear. “I seem to recall those hands having much better aim last weekend.” And then she stepped away, leaving Aspen crouching there with hot ears and a shaky hammer.
After that, she gave up on subtlety. When they were hooking the Spikeball net onto the rim together, Aspen had a clear view down the top of Maddy’s tank top. Aspen’s hands came to a full stop, and she stared like a teenager who’d never seen cleavage before.
Maddy glanced up to see why the net had gone loose and arched an eyebrow. “You’re staring, St. Claire.”
Aspen’s eyes snapped back up. “I’m supervising.”
“My boobs? Pretty sure they do not need supervision.”
“I strongly disagree.” Aspen intentionally let her eyes drift back down. “They’re the unsung heroes of the day as far as I’m concerned. Out here doing the Lord’s work. Someone has to make sure they’re being looked after too.”
Maddy breathed a laugh and shook her head. “Well, if you ever want to see these unsung heroes out of a shirt again, you’ll focus.”
“Yes, ma’am.” And Aspen did. Because she really, really wanted to see them out of a shirt again.
By the time they were dragging the last of the game-station markers into place, the sun was going down
“Make sure you hydrate this weekend.” Aspen said nonchalantly as she looped a marker rope around its stake and pulled it snug. “Don’t want you collapsing while you’re trying to keep up with me.”
“Please.” Maddy planted a flag in the sand with a little more conviction than necessary. “I can run circles around you.”
Aspen straightened with a smile, wiped her palms down her shorts, and tilted her head. “In a strategic challenge, sure. But you really think you can take me in a physical one?”
Maddy squared her shoulders. “I know I can.”
“Then prove it. Right now.” Aspen said with a smug grin.
Maddy went still. “Now?”
Aspen tipped her head toward the ocean. “Foot race. Through the tent, over the cornhole boards, to the waterline, and back. First one to cross the tent threshold wins.
“And what do I get when I kick your ass?” Maddy asked arrogantly.
“If you win, I’ll build Bunny’s throne by myself.
But if I win…” Aspen glanced in both directions to ensure they were alone and stepped into Maddy’s personal space.
She hooked her index fingers into the top of Maddy’s shorts and pulled her closer so there was only a few inches of space between them.
“Then you come back to my place for the rest of the night, and we finish setting up in the morning.”
Maddy’s eyes narrowed, her lip twitched into a tiny smirk. Her weight came forward onto the balls of her feet until her lips were an inch from Aspen’s. “You’re on.”
They lined up at the top of the soft sand at the edge of one of the tents, shoulder to shoulder, toes dug in.
And for one second—with both of them crouched and coiled and grinning at the water—it was like fifteen years were gone in a blink.
Except back then, beating Maddy had only ever earned Aspen another sixty seconds of those eyes on her.
Today, if she won, she got to take Maddy home.
She was definitely winning this.
“Count it down.” Maddy’s eyes stayed locked on the waterline.
Aspen dug her toes in. “Three. Two. O—”
Maddy was gone before the word finished.
Aspen barked out a laugh and tore after her, through the tent, over the cornhole board, soft sand flying up behind them.
They were dead even at the midpoint. They both tried to cut the other person off as they turned at the waterline to sprint back, gasping and laughing.
As they neared the finish line, Maddy reached out to give Aspen a shove. Aspen dodged it, batting her arm away.
And then Maddy let out an ugly grunt, hand flying to the back of her right thigh, and dropping to the sand.
Aspen whipped around and was on her knees beside her before Maddy had finished folding.
“Easy. I’ve got you.” Her hands were already on the leg Maddy was clutching. She felt it almost instantly. The muscle had seized into a solid, furious knot under her palm.
Maddy’s face was screwed up, breath hissing through her teeth. “Oh my God. Fuck. No, no, no.”
“Lie back.” Aspen was already easing her down with a hand at her hip. “Let me stretch it out.
Maddy dropped onto her back in the sand with a string of curse words.
Aspen folded the leg up, got one palm flat against Maddy’s heel, and the other hand pressed to the back of her thigh, and slowly, steadily eased the leg straight, drawing the muscle out of its knot. “You’re okay. I’ve got you. It’s just a cramp.”
Maddy winced. “Are you sure? What if it’s torn and I can’t do the Cup?”
“I do this for a living, remember? There was no pop, I can feel the knot, and the muscle is twitching. Does the pain get worse when I do this?” She pulled the leg straighter again.
Maddy shook her head. “No.”
“Then it’s not a tear.” Aspen kept her hands working the knot. “What did I tell you about hydrating and stretching before strenuous activities?”
Maddy’s jaw dropped open in disbelief. “Are you—”
“And here you are, just flat-out sprinting in soft sand, at thirty-three, with no warm-up, like you still have the limber body of a seventeen-year-old.” Aspen tsked and eased the leg another degree straighter, biting down on a smile, watching for the moment the muscle let go.
“You proposed the race!” Maddy said through tight teeth.
Aspen grinned. Under her palm, the muscle finally let go, softening, and Maddy released a breath. “That’s it,” she said, lower. “Better?”
Maddy nodded, eyes locked on Aspen’s.
Neither of them moved.
Seconds passed, and there was no reason for Aspen’s hand to still be on the back of Maddy’s thigh, or her other palm to be cradling Maddy’s heel, or the two of them to be folded together like this.
Then it occurred to her —they had been in a very similar position four nights ago in a cabin, with a lot less clothing.
Maddy’s eyes dropped to Aspen’s hand on her leg, then slowly climbed back up to Aspen’s face. Her cheeks were already flushed from the run. They went pinker, and she visibly swallowed.
Aspen’s pulse was loud in her own ears, and the want ripped through her so fast and hard she had to clench her jaw against it.