Page 65 of The Road to Finding Us

Anytime she was over visiting Maverick or V, I made sure to have a girl over—or multiple. Nothing ever happened with them. We’d spend the night playing Words with Friends or long rounds of Monopoly, but I never let Lily in on that secret.

Why the hell would I have wasted my breath explaining to her all the things she refused to hear?

They weren’t my finest moments, parading those women in front of her, feeding into the lies Lily kept telling herself. But I was so pissed at her, I didn’t know what else to do. It was my own revenge for her breaking my heart. A very human reaction I’m still not proud of.

She didn’t just break my heart, she ripped it to shreds and then got rid of the pieces.

I didn’t take it well. Because even without that heart that beat for her, I was still the Aspen she knew—only, heartless.

It didn’t help that I was stuck in the house with an equally brooding Maverick for a while. It wasn’t until Veronica came back and confessed her love, that he came out of it. And then, I was stuck watching the two of them be all happily in love.

It was all complete bullshit, only contributing to my own despair.

And finally, when Lily decided to once again use my past against me several years later, I snapped. I couldn’t help but explain everything to her. To lay it all out on the table. She can do with it whatever the hell she wants.

I loved her, but I won’t continue to play a person I’m not just to keep up with her charade.

Neither one of us have spoken. Not since we found civilization. Not when I paid a guy a hundred bucks to drive out, tow my truck, and keep it overnight to fix. Not when I booked us a room with two beds at this motel.

Not when she decided to sit her ass on the front porch outside our room to sulk, getting even more soaked by the rain every second.

And that’s where she is currently, sitting in an old rickety chair that barely holds her small frame.

Having had enough of her deafening silence, I finally address her. “You need to come inside.”

She doesn’t even turn around to face me—and part of me is thankful for it. “I’m fine.”

“Damn it, Lily. Please just come inside. You’re going to get sick sitting out here soaking wet.” I crouch down in front of her, balancing on the balls of my feet.

She barely looks at me from the corner of her eye. Her voice is monotone as she says, “I don’t care. I can’t be near you right now. Everything was a lie.”

I sigh, trying to duck further to get her to look at me. “Well, you should care. Stop thinking about whatever is going through that hard head of yours. Forget I even said anything. Can you just come inside? Please?”

When her distant eyes finally look at me, she says, “How can I forget that?”

I can’t help but wince. My fingers brush against her cold lips. “Jesus Christ, Lily. Your lips are purple. If you don’t get up now, I’m going to throw you over my shoulder.”

All she does is shrug, so I’m left with no choice but to follow through. She bobs up and down to the rhythm of my footsteps as I take her inside.

Once I set her on the bed furthest from the door, I take a step back. It’s then that I catch her body shivering, most likely from the wet clothing she still has on. I go digging into her bag I grabbed from the car, rifling through until I find a shirt and a pair of pants. “Change into these,” I instruct, placing them next to her on the bed.

Her gaze absently follows my motions, her face still void of any emotion.

Did I fucking break her?

I snap my fingers in front of her face, something she used to do that annoyed the hell out of me. “Lily, I’m going to step into the bathroom so you can change privately, okay?”

She doesn’t give me any type of response, so all I can do is hope she heard me and retreat to the bathroom, grabbing my bag on the way in to change my own clothes.

I put on the first pair of sweatpants I find, throwing on a dry T-shirt as well. I hang my wet clothes over the shower rod, hoping they’ll dry overnight, and then I check my phone for any missed texts. Looking at it, I find I have six from Veronica, one from Maverick, and one from Selma. I make a mental note to respond to them all later, my mind too preoccupied on a shivering Lily in the other room.

As I walk back in, I can’t hide my frustration when I realize she hasn’t changed. Without words, I slowly approach her. I gently lift her shaking arms, holding them still over her head. Without giving her any verbal warning, my fingers peel the wet shirt off her before I throw it in the direction of the bathroom, hearing the wet slap of the fabric against the linoleum a moment later.

Looking back at her, I’m met with a simple sports bra. It’s wet as hell, droplets falling down her midriff.

Air hisses through my teeth. “Okay, Lil. We have to take this off too. It’s soaked. Either you take it off, or I will, but let’s figure it out sooner than later because you’re still shaking like a leaf.” I look at the ceiling, avoiding her exposed skin.

She finally looks at me and whispers, “Oh, just take it off. Nothing you haven’t seen before.”

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