Page 67 of The Road to Finding Us

I wish tomorrow would never come. I wish I could live in this moment forever.

I’m too afraid of what tomorrow will bring.

One thing is for sure: I don’t think it’ll bring me her.

And that’s a fucking tragedy in itself.

33

Lily

Present

Waking up the next morning in Aspen’s arms feels right—too right.

I open my eyes to find him staring at me, something I remember him doing when we were in college.

“Took you long enough,” he lazily drawls, his fingers pushing the hair out of my eyes.

I pull away from his touch. Rousing next to him, feeling him touch me, hearing that sexy morning rasp of his…it’s overwhelming. Throwing the covers back, I hightail it out of bed. I pace in front of it, trying to think of the words to explain the way I’m feeling. “Look, whatever last night was, it just…” I pause, my hands finding my waist as I think. “It just was a lot. And I’m trying to like, process everything going on in my head.”

Aspen pushes himself up, his shoulders bumping against the headboard.

It doesn’t fucking help that he looks like sex on a stick in the morning.

I mean, is this for fucking real?

Does he have to wake up looking like he just walked the runway?

Strands of his hair stick up, almost perfectly disheveled. The stubble that has grown on his cheeks overnight makes me remember the times I felt it between my legs. I look away from him, focusing my eyes just above his shoulder at some sort of abstract painting Veronica would probably love.

“Look, if I said something last night that hurt you, I’m sorry. It wasn’t my intention,” he says.

A sad excuse of a laugh escapes me. “I think that’s the problem here, Aspen. Everything you’ve been doing has hurt me, and I don’t know why.” My hands fly in every direction as I lay out all my feelings. “Ignoring me for years? Hurt me. Parading beautiful women in front of me daily? Wrecked me. Hating me? Still fucking hurt me. Confessing you loved me but were too much of a coward to admit it? Damn if that didn’t hurt me the most.”

I walk closer to him, my big toe getting stubbed on the corner of the metal frame of the hotel bed. During my rant, he’s gotten out of bed and is now standing between both beds, bringing us chest to chest.

“I’m so incredibly mad at you that it physically hurts. I’m mad I didn’t realize you had feelings for me, but I’m even more mad at myself that, for some stupid reason, I don’t want those feelings to go away.” I shove on his broad chest and he lets me, even though I can see the frustration building in his eyes. “You’ve made me rethink all the promises I made to myself to never let you in again.” Another shove.

At this point, I’ve started crying so hard I can taste the saltiness of my own tears. “You have me questioning every single thing, and it hurts—bad. And now you’re telling me you were in love with me, even while you had women coming out of your bedroom like you had a fucking revolving door? You’re lying. Stop hurting me, Aspen. I loved you, okay? I loved you even though every single part of me knew I shouldn’t. I fell in love with you and would’ve given you everything I could fucking give to somebody else, but to me, it felt like you threw it away. That you didn’t want anything I could give you. So stop lying, just stop. What you did to me wasn’t freaking love.” I give him one final shove, watching his resolve break shortly after.

He grabs my arms, pinning them to my sides, before he starts backing me to the wall. I try to squirm out of his grip, but his grip becomes even tighter on me. My back hits the wall, my body continuing to try and move away from his grasp, but I don’t get far with his firm hold.

“I won’t apologize for loving you. So if that’s what you’re looking for, I won’t give it to you,” he says. “I fucked up, okay? Before you, sex was just sex. After you, I wanted to sleep with only you for the rest of my life. But despite all this, I can tell you still feel something for me, even after all the bullshit. You wouldn’t be so hurt right now if you didn’t.”

I feel the tears slide down my cheek and his gaze follows their descent. I speak through my teeth when I stammer, “I. Don’t. Feel. Anything. For. You.” I force as much conviction and venom in my words as I can muster.

The words are barely out of my mouth before his lips crash against mine in a wild frenzy. His large hands grab my face, his fingers tangling in my hair. Aspen’s lips are strong and quick against mine.

“I don’t fucking believe you,” he growls against my mouth, diving against my lips once again.

His tongue coaxes my mouth open, and I don’t hesitate to let him in. His chest pushes against mine, my legs wrapping around him so I can access his lips easier. He pushes me deeper into the wall, pinning me with his hips, making it almost painful.

I feel his hands everywhere at once, untangling from my hair, grabbing my neck, in my hair again. One hand squeezes my upper thigh, pulling me even closer against him. I can feel his fingertips searing my skin straight through my thin pair of leggings.

Pulling away from his lips, I gasp for air while they find my neck. I revel in the feeling. His lips aren’t tender, and I don’t want them to be. I want to feel the punishing branding of them. I want to feel them everywhere, no matter how gentle they aren’t. He nips at my collarbone as my fingers fist his hair. When I open my eyes, I find his on me, his green eyes speaking so many words he’s never said.

We stare at each other for a moment before he slowly inches his face closer to mine.

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