Page 93 of Pulled Away

Ryan

Aspen: So where are you taking me on Friday?

Is it possible to keep breathing after your heart has stopped? Yes, it is. Because I’m pretty sure that’s what my heart just did when I read Aspen’s message.

My fingers have never flown so fast typing out a message.

Ryan: Is it okay if I surprise you?

I took it as a positive when she said she needed some time to think. Never in my wildest dreams did I think she’d get back to me so soon.

That’s good, right?

The swiftness of her response means the decision couldn’t have been that hard, right?

Aspen: I’m not sure my heart can handle any more surprises right now

Ryan: I’ll make it worth it

The truth is, her swift response has caught me unprepared. I haven’t thought beyond getting her to agree to a date. Now I have no freaking clue what to do.

Aspen: Okay. It’s a date then

My heart soars at those five words, determination filling every part of me. This is my second chance and I can’t mess it up. I have to make it good. Show her that no man on earth has ever loved a woman more.

Trying to appear casual, I stroll into the kitchen where Mom’s preparing Sunday roast. Maybe she’ll have some ideas.

“What has you smiling like that?”

Obviously, I’m failing at being casual.

“I have a date on Friday.”

Instead of a happy, supportive smile, she frowns at me. “With who?”

“Aspen, who else?” I don’t care if my voice is a bit more cranky than it should be. She knows how I feel about Aspen, so how can she even consider I’d date someone else?

“And you sure you haven’t stalked her into going out with you?”

“No, Mom,” I sigh. She’s never going to let me live that down. Never mind, I’ll think of something myself. Making a U-turn, I march right back out of the kitchen.

“Where are you going?” she calls to my back.

“Things to do, plans to make,” I call out, throwing my hand into the air.

I’m as nervous as a singer doing his first solo performance when I knock on Aspen’s door.

I made a list of possible unforgettable dates, crossing each one out as I went along. Helicopter ride? No, she’s scared of heights. Skydiving. Once again, no. The point is to get to a second date, not scare her the hell away.

Until it dawned on me that I was approaching this all wrong. Aspen isn’t one who’s impressed by big, flashy things. So I decided to keep it simple. Simple enough that we would have enough time to talk. About good things, or bad things, whatever she feels she needs to talk about.

She opens the door, and it’s like a shot of adrenalin straight to the heart, my heartbeat a backup drum solo for the nervous singer.

I want to pull her into my arms, squeeze the shit out of her, and then kiss her until she can’t breathe. But I can’t because I’m courting her. And because, you know. She might stab me if I try that.

“You look…” I want to go all old school on her and say, ravishing, otherworldly, enchanting. Like the first glimpse of home, a soldier has after being away at war for years.

Because make no mistake, this is a war I’ve been engaged in. A war to win back her heart and her trust.

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