Page 13 of The Consequence of Loving Me

“I’ll tell you about her,” Aspen says, looking over at Lily. “She reminds me of an ice queen. Her hair is so blonde, and it takes up half her body. She’s filled with venom and ice. She even did this to me.” He lifts the sleeve of his sweatshirt to show a forming bruise.

Dang, she actually did get him good.

“Keep going,” Lily instructs, leaning in closer to Aspen, holding on to every word.

“I think she might hate me, but that’s okay, I’ll defrost her,” Aspen says.

I can see where Aspen gets the ice queen reference for Veronica. At first glance she is all stone and ice, seemingly content in keeping everyone away from her. I wonder if she’s always been so cold to people, or if something made her like this. Either way, it’s not my concern, as long as she pays her rent.

“Maybe take the hint,” Lily retorts, letting out a huff I can hear even in the loud bar.

“Never,” Aspen responds. “I am going to figure the ice queen out.” There’s determination in his voice.

“Good luck with that,” I scoff, stretching my legs out underneath the table.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Aspen asks.

"It means that girl has walls built so high it’ll be impossible to climb them. Even for someone as persistent as you,” I tell him.

“You say that like it’s bad to build walls,” my best friend responds, sitting taller in the booth.

Aspen would decide to become philosophical when it comes to her.

I open my mouth to respond, but Aspen adds, “Look, we don’t know her story so before you go and write her off as some bitch, maybe consider there’s more to it. Maybe she’s just hard to get to know.”

My mouth hangs agape as my best friend glares at me from across the table. I want to ask him if we’re talking about the same girl—because I have a distinct memory of her thwarting him with a shoe only hours ago. I keep my words in, however, because his catch me off guard. I hadn’t given much thought to why she acts the way she does—and I’m not going to start now.

“Can’t wait to meet her,” Lily quips in a dull tone.

I stifle the urge to tell my sister she’s not missing much.

7

Veronica

“Jesus Christ, Veronica,” Aspen wheezes as he sets my last box of belongings next to my bed. “How the hell are you going to fit all that shit into this tiny room?” He looks around the room, where boxes are scattered all over, making it hard to walk anywhere.

I shrug and say, “Simple. I’ll make it fit.” The box cutter makes a ripping noise as it cuts through the tape on the box I open. When I lift the two flaps, I find it’s my last box of shoes. One by one, I pull them out and walk them to the closet.

Aspen’s right; it will be a tight squeeze, but I’ll make it work. Everything I brought with me is a necessity—at least to me.

From the closet, I can hear Aspen’s cell phone ring. He answers, engaging in a quick conversation with the person on the other end before hanging up. As I continue to neatly line my shoes on the closet shelf, Aspen fills the doorway.

“That was Selma,” he says. “Someone called out of work today and they’re short a waiter. I told her I’d come in, but I need to head out in ten minutes. You good in here?” His eyes catch on my sheer body suits hanging in the closet.

I give him a light shove on the shoulder. “Don’t get any ideas, playboy. And I’ll be fine here. I don’t want anyone else unpacking my things anyway.”

Aspen’s gaze roams over my face, before he nods and leaves me to the peace and quiet of my new room.

Finally, I’m alone.

Even though I hate to admit it, Aspen is kind of growing on me. I don’t want to send him any mixed signals on what he and I could be, though. He seems like a guy that could get attached very easily—and I don’t do attachments.

Not anymore.

Not ever again.

I shake my head, trying to not let my mind wander in the direction it wants to go. It’s already a drag being stuck in my head twenty-four/seven. All I do is hate myself. If anyone were to look into my thoughts, they’d find way too much self-loathing for a twenty-one-year old to have.

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