Page 44 of The Consequence of Loving Me

“I can tell you, though, that I think I have it bad,” he says. “Like, really fucking bad, Veronica.” He groans as he stretches his long legs underneath the comforter. His body inches down the headboard until his buzzed head rests against my pillow, and he folds his hands over his stomach.

“Does she know this?” I stare at the way he twiddles his thumbs around and around.

“No. She thinks I hate her. Or at least that I’m repulsed by her. But in reality, I haven’t slept with another girl in ages. Because when my lips touch another girl’s, her damn face pops into my head.”

I contemplate what he’s saying. “Well, do you plan on telling her that?”

“No. The thing is, we would never work. It’d be too complicated, and it’d hurt somebody else in my life. I can’t do it. But I want to do it. How is that even possible?”

Maverick’s face flashes in my mind—along with the feelings for him that have started to spin around in my heart and in my head. Feelings I shouldn’t be having. Because we can’t be anything. I know that. But it doesn’t mean I don’t want it.

“Are you sure it would hurt somebody else?” I ask him. I think of Selma, feeling guilty for wanting something from a man who has a perfect relationship with a perfect girl.

She’s perfect. I’m nothing but imperfections. If it were up to him, who would he choose?

As soon as the thought enters my mind, I rub my eyes, trying to force it out. My selfish heart is doing what it does best—wanting what it wants, consequences be damned.

But I won’t pursue that. I will continue to force down the feelings I’m starting to develop for a man I swore I would stay just friends with.

The shifting of Aspen’s body brings me back into the present with him. “I’m sure it would hurt somebody else. I know it’d hurt everybody involved. But that doesn’t make it hurt any less now, and it doesn’t make me want her any less. I’m starting to realize that maybe—maybe I’ve wanted this for years.”

I mimic his movements from earlier, sliding down the headboard and resting my head against the pillow. My hands reach out and pull at the ponytail that’s holding my hair up, the position of my head on the pillow making it uncomfortable to lie on.

“I think you should tell her.”

Aspen gasps next to me. “Are you not listening to me at all? I can’t tell her, that’s the problem. I don’t think I want anyone but her, but I can’t have her. So now I’m stuck going crazy. And I’m horny.”

I laugh. “I don’t know what else to tell you then, bud. Either you tell her—or show her—how you feel, or you need to move on and find somebody else. But I can guarantee you that if you stay in this limbo you’re in right now, it won’t do anything but continue to drive you crazy.”

Look at me giving advice. Damn, maybe I can be a good friend.

“You suck at this, V.”

My eyes dart to him. “All I’m doing is pointing out something you already know.”

His hands slide over his face, pulling at the skin on his cheeks. “You’re right. I need to forget about her. They’re just silly feelings. They’ll go away.”

I flip over to look at him. This is not going in the direction I was hoping it would. I was thinking with a little tough love, he’d be pushed in her direction. My thought process was that maybe he would grow a pair and go for it.

But apparently Aspen has other plans.

Just as I’m about to ask him if he’s sure, a soft knock interrupts my thoughts. I lift my head from the pillow to find Maverick in the doorway. His eyes roam around the bed—the bed in which Aspen and I lie—where it may appear a little less innocent than it actually is.

“Oh hey, Mav,” Aspen says, propping himself up on his elbows. The movement causes the comforter to slip off the both of us. Aspen’s eyes follow its path, his gaze stuck on the pool of white on my carpet.

Maverick’s still staring intensely at the comforter on the floor when Aspen says, “What do you guys think about throwing a party tonight?”

This catches Maverick’s attention, his eyes traveling to where Aspen has fully sat up in my bed.

I follow Aspen’s lead, pulling my legs up to my chest. My chin rests on my knees while I stare at Maverick who clears his throat, his eyes looking over at me now. The look he gives me is intense. I wish I knew what the meaning behind it was, but it probably wouldn’t help things.

“I think a party sounds great,” I tell Aspen, breaking away from Maverick’s intense gaze.

Aspen looks over at me with a sly grin on his face. “Really?”

“Let’s do it,” I decide.

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