Page 7 of The Road to Finding Us

I won’t be able to look at my doorframe without thinking of the way he looks right now, perched up against it.

“Well, I can’t say I’m exactly thrilled to see you,” I finally manage to get out, still observing him. He seems so eerily familiar, while also noticeably different in so many ways.

In college, he always had this boyish charm about him. He was good-looking, but it wasn’t in a mature way. Now he looks more like a man than a kid, and it makes me feel uneasy.

“Happy to see you haven’t changed one bit.” It’s his turn to evaluate me, and suddenly I’m wishing I could have dressed up a bit for this surprise occasion. It isn’t like I want to stand here and impress Aspen, but I would like to be a little vindictive and maybe have my hair not look like a bird’s nest when I finally saw him again.

Show him what he could’ve had, kind of thing.

Unluckily for me, I’m showing him exactly why he moved on from me in the blink of an eye after our short affair.

“What the hell are you doing here?” After realizing my hand has started to cramp from the tight grip it had on the doorknob, I slowly let go.

“Aren’t you going to invite me in?” He takes one hand off the doorframe and uses it to point behind me.

I briefly look over my shoulder at the small studio behind me before returning my gaze to him. “That’ll be a no from me, dawg,” I respond. He seems taller now than he used to be. Maybe it’s because he’s unexpectedly taking up my space. Or maybe he’s simply filled out more since college. He has on a simple black hoodie and a pair of jeans. Nothing fancy, but I can’t lie and say he doesn’t wear it well.

I’m happy to see a pair of sneakers on his feet and not his hideous boat shoes from college he’d refused to part with.

“C’mon, Lily. We need to talk.” He shoves past me after finishing his sentence, not bothering to wait for an invitation inside.

“You can’t just walk into my place uninvited!” I scramble to shut the door and chase after him. Good thing I’ve been anticipating being gone for a couple of weeks and had just deep cleaned my apartment this morning. I’d be mortified if my bras were still air-drying from the light fixture in the dining area like they were earlier. It’d be something Aspen would never let me live down. I know that much probably hasn’t changed.

“Sure I can. We’re old friends. Pals. Am I not allowed to come visit my buddy?” He stops in the middle of the space and swivels his head, taking it all in.

My eyes take in the same sight he must be seeing. The studio apartment is small—tiny, really—but it’s home. My bed is pushed into one corner of the space. I have a small kitchen across from it. A small loveseat is placed in the middle of it all, a clear acrylic coffee table placed directly in front of the couch.

“We aren’t friends,” I remind him. While he scrutinizes my living area, I take the moment to redo my bun, gathering my long dark hair at the top of my head and securing my hair tie around it.

“I’m reminded of that constantly,” he mutters. I almost don’t even catch it because his back is to me, but the space is small and my walls are concrete, so sound travels.

I’m ready to ask him what he means by that before I decide otherwise. Aspen has always spoken cryptically to me. With everyone else, he was upfront and frank. With me? He was forever speaking in riddles and contradicting his words with his actions. It’s something I’m used to. I don’t have the energy to question him further on it.

“Seriously, what are you doing here?” The words come out harsh. I’m exhausted from cleaning and packing all day. The last thing I want to do is stand here and play some game with Aspen.

I used to get high off of sparring with him in college. It was my favorite game—a thrill ride. Now I just want off the damn ride. I’m over the high and over the constant feeling of my stomach sinking.

His gaze swings to me, pinning me to my spot. “Veronica called me.”

Figures.

When she told me she was going to contact Aspen, I didn’t think she was serious. She knows exactly how Aspen and I left things. But I didn’t think there was any fucking way she could be insane enough to think I’d ever willingly get in a car with him for a road trip of this magnitude.

She’s lost her damn mind.

I want to find my phone and ask her what in the hell she was thinking—but first I need to get rid of the intruder in my living room.

“It’s not happening,” I say bluntly, looking down and picking at a thread on my top.

When I look back up, I find Aspen staring intently at me. His shoulders rise and fall with a deep breath. “Look, I’m just here to offer you a ride. Veronica told me she’d have my balls if I didn’t drive you safely to the opening—and I’m quite fond of my balls, so here I am.”

“I’m well aware,” I mumble under my breath. Judging by the way he shakes his head, I’m guessing I didn’t say it quietly enough to miss his ears. The movement causes his hair to flop around. It’s longer now. When we were in college, he never let it grow out. It was always short and buzzed. Now, only the sides of his head are buzzed with a nice fade, and the top has longer dirtier blond strands.

“There’s no reason we shouldn’t be able to ride together like adults.” He says it so matter-of-factly that it makes me mad.

When did he grow up and become the rational one? “There’s no way in hell I’m traveling halfway across the country with you, Aspen. We’d probably kill each other by the end of it.”

He takes a few hesitant steps closer to me, a small grin pulling at his lips. “We’ve both grown up since then. I think we’re more than capable of riding together. It makes sense. We both live in Dallas. We’re both driving to South Carolina. It’d be crazy for both of us to take our own cars.”

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