Page 27 of The Story We Wrote

We spent time talking about what Penny and Theo were up to, discussing what books I’d read to my mom, and the fact my parents hadn’t seen Parker in quite some time like that was my problem.

Everything was going well. That was until the next question that flew from my dad’s mouth was so left field it made me choke on my lemonade. “What’s going on with you and that Cassidy boy?”

“Jack,” my mom muttered, shooting him daggers from across the table.

“What do you mean?” I asked, hoping things weren’t about to take a turn down Awkward Street.

“The guys I play golf with said that there’ve been rumors in town about you two dating. I just want to make sure that isn’t the case. They shouldn’t know before your old man. Plus, I need to meet the boy first,” my dad replied. On instinct, I put my face in my hands.

“Dad, we’re just friends. I work for his family! Of course, I’m going to be seen with him. You know this town. Rumors are exactly that.”Nice save, Aspen.I prayed that my dad didn’t hear about the whole cowboy hat in the bar thing. If he did, I’d think the conversation would be much different.

My dad took a sip before answering me. “If there’s someone in your life, I wanna meet them. Make sure they’re enough for my daughter. I don’t think that Cassidy boy is good enough for you anyway. You’re more than this town, and one day, you’ll see it.”

No wonder why I didn’t have a boyfriend in high school. Meeting my dad would’ve been a deal breaker, and who needed that extra drama anyway?

“Speaking of dating. I would love some grandchildren,” my mom interjected, giggling to herself.

“Look at the time!” I said, glancing at the watch I didn’t have on my wrist. “I love you both, but it’s getting late, and I have some things to do at home.” I stood and bent down to kiss them both on the cheek. They wished me goodbye and asked when I would visit next. I gave the same vague answer I always did, “Oh, soon,” and made a break for it.

When I got in the car, I deflated against the driver’s seat. The nagging feeling of dread came back, knowing that I once again didn’t tell my family the truth.

Twelve

Boone

Spending my afternoon trying to get the chickens accustomed to their new coop wasn’t what I saw myself doing today. I didn’t think chickens were half bad. That was until I had them in my truck, chirping and shitting all over their box, not to mention trying to climb out of said box while I was driving. I was flooded with relief when I pulled in the driveway and put them outside where they belonged.

Having so much chaos this afternoon helped keep my mind off of Aspen. When she called me drunk last night, I knew I should’ve been there from the beginning. I should’ve roped the boys into going out with me under the disguise of going out for a good time.

When I got to the bar, her reaction was everything I didn’t know I needed. Seeing her face light up with a huge smile as she ran at me elicited such a pleasant feeling. However, thinking of her placing my hat on her head brought back all the guilt I felt. I didn’t know what came over me, taking it off her head like that. I didn’t want it to be fake or purely alcohol induced. I had plentyof girls put my hat on their head, claiming that they wanted me to take them home for the night. With Aspen, I felt different. I wanted her to keep the hat on for more than one night.

Trust me when I say, I would’ve happily let the whole bar watch me claim her so no one else would get any ideas. But I wanted Aspen in more ways than that, and I wasn’t ready to broach that subject. I’d avoid those thoughts until the feelings would go away, and being just friends would be enough.

When I went outside the front door for some fresh air, movement from Aspen’s porch caught my attention. Every night she sat on the porch swing with a glass of wine and a book. Tonight was no different. My legs moved before my brain could stop me, and I jogged down the steps on a mission toward her porch.

When I was closer, she looked up at me and smiled. That was a sight I’d burn into my brain. I’d cherish the image and revisit it whenever I needed to feel something.

“Well, you’re right on time,” she teased, scooting over to make room for me on the swing. She wrapped her blanket tighter around her legs, taking a sip of the red liquid in her glass.

“What are we reading tonight?” I asked her, sitting down and draping my arm over the back of the swing. The urge to touch her shoulder or bring her in closer was strong. Instead, I focused on restraint.

“It’s a second chance romance. Winn and Harriet were engaged, but now they aren’t. They haven’t told any of their friends yet. Now, they’re all going on vacation together. They have to pretend to still be in love.” She closed her book and reached to place it on the railing in front of us. “They obviously both still love each other,” she elaborated before sinking back against the swing.

“Sounds…” I paused, trying to find the right words. “Entertaining?”

Aspen lets out a short laugh. “I guess you could say that.”

I pushed against the floor, making the swing move gently back and forth. “How was the rest of your day?” I questioned, both of us staring out to the horizon.

Aspen scoffed. “As good as it can be while visiting my parents.”

I turned towards her, looking at her side profile. I love the shape of her nose, it swoops down to a cute little button. “Want to talk about it?”

“Actually, yeah.” She took another sip of her wine. “I want to start by saying I love my parents, so what I’m about to say doesn’t take away from that. My parents wanted a much different life for me than I’m living. They wanted me to be a nurse or in the tech field, both of which sound nothing like me. They’ve been hounding me for years to get a ‘real job’ and pretty much grow up. It doesn’t matter how often I say that I’m happy or that I liked working at The Coffee Cup. An important job doesn’t define me. I want to have time to read my books and enjoy life. It’s so hard to have them see my side in anything. To me, life is more than working for a paycheck.” She let out a shaky breath. “My dream is to become an author.”

In the short time I’d really known Aspen, I could tell being an author was perfect for her. She constantly had her nose in a book and it’s something she was passionate about. I was a firm believer in “if you loved your job, you’d never work a day in your life.”

“Okay. Then do it,” I said, looking down at her. There was a sparkle in her eyes like she was hearing those few words for the first time. My body moved closer on instinct, and I could smell the familiar scent of her skin. Before Aspen, I didn’t care much for blueberries, but now, I had a new favorite fruit.

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