Page 49 of The Road to Finding Us

“You ordered food?” Aspen asks, sizing up the spread I have out in front of me.

With a mouth full of garlic bread, I respond, “I was starving, and I didn’t know how long you would be with Giselle.”

“Give me some.” Aspen plops down beside me, his weight displacing me on the bed. He reaches for a piece of garlic bread, but I quickly swat it out of his hands.

“No touching my carbs!” I exclaim, shoving the piece of bread he was just holding into my mouth.

In all honesty, I’m getting full. But I also feel like he should at least ask to eat the food that I took the time to order while he was with Giselle.

Aspen pays no attention to me, though. He picks up the fork I was just using, twirls a heaping amount of pasta on it, and shovels it into his mouth. He looks over at me, smiling through a mouth full of chicken alfredo.

“Gross. Close your mouth while you’re eating,” I chide, scooting away from him.

He finishes the rest of my food quickly, not leaving a single scrap behind. The two of us clean up the mess in silence, Aspen rolling the dishes out into the hallway when we’re done.

When he comes back from the hallway, he holds up the liquor bottle and shakes it like that might change my mind on drinking.

It doesn’t.

I shake my head, not saying anything to Aspen as I walk into the bathroom and shut the door behind me. After I turn the shower on, I undress from my clothes for the day. It’s at this exact moment I realize I forgot to bring my bag in.

Shit on a stick.

Already naked and ready for a long hot shower, I hop in, deciding I’ll worry about getting fresh clothes later. My muscles are sore from sitting in the car today, so the hot water is a nice relief against my tense muscles.

I stay in the shower much longer than I’d anticipated, allowing the water to go cold in the process. After tightly wrapping a towel around my body, I open the bathroom door. A scream—and a few curse words—leave my mouth when I’m greeted with a grinning Aspen.

“Aspen!” I shriek, pulling the knot under my armpit tighter, praying nothing is hanging out for him to see. “What the hell are you doing?”

He snickers, his shoulder propped against the doorframe. He lifts one of the bottles of alcohol from earlier. “I figured there was only one good way to get you to drink with me. So,” he says mischievously, his eyes darting to take in the room, “I took your bag and hid it. I’ll give it back to you, of course—after you take a shot with me.”

I want to slap the devilish grin right off his face. My eyes narrow at him as I try to think of a way out of this situation. The last thing I want to do is drink—and possibly embarrass myself—around him. Time to remind him how hardheaded I can be.

“I guess I’ll just have to stay in my towel then,” I suggest, tightening my hold on it. My shoulder hits his as I shove past him. My eyes scan over the room as I try to see if he really did take my bag or not. I discover he wasn’t lying.

Aspen turns around to face me at the same time I come up with a plan. I take small steps closer and closer to him, trying to faze him enough to tell me where my bag is.

“You see, Aspen.” Two steps closer. “I’m not really in the mood to drink.” Another step. We’re now chest to chest and I have to look up at him to be able to see his mossy eyes.

His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows slowly, his nostrils flaring. His green stare meets my blue one. It’s quiet enough in the hotel room that I can hear the rapid sound of his heartbeat, pounding in his chest.

My finger lazily traces the bare skin of his tan arm. I look up at him from my eyelashes. “My clothes?”

“Lily, I—”

Just then, I hear the ring of my phone, giving away the location of my bag. I clutch my towel to my body and sprint toward the sound. I find my bag hidden in a cabinet, my phone vibrating inside it. Aspen lunges for it right after me, his bulky arms caging me in against the cabinet. We both look down to see the name on the screen.

While Aspen stares at the name blinking on my phone, I dip underneath his arm, walking myself back to the bathroom.

Once I’m in there, I swipe to answer, putting my back against the cold wood door. “Blaine, hi. How are you?”

“Blaine?” Aspen asks curtly from the other side of the door.

My feet take me away from the door and Aspen’s prying ears.

“Hey there, Lily. I’m doing great. I have some news for you, actually. But first, I miss you. How the hell have you been?”

“I miss you too,” I respond, sitting on the edge of the bathtub.

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