Page 33 of Fall Wherever They May

“You okay?”

She sighs and plays with one of her pearl earrings. “I’m good. Listen, what I told you the other night . . .” She turns in the seat to face me and begins intertwining her fingers nervously, “I didn’t tell you that so you would feel sorry for me. I told you so you would understand my boundaries. I saw a different side of you, and it made me feel safe in sharing. But I don’t want you to feel sorry for me or feel the need to protect me every time someone makes a backhanded comment about my age. I’m not a teenager anymore, and I’ve made peace with that judgment.” Her green eyes collide with mine.

I reach over and tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. “I don’t feel sorry for you, but you can’t ask me to stand by and let someone talk to you that way, especially in front of Tuck. Now, you ready? I think we have one more stop.”

“These are the only two appointments I had scheduled for today.” She turns in her seat to address Tuck in the back. “You good, Buddy?”

“I’m happy as a tick on a fat dog if I don’t have to go to that place.”

The things that come out of this kid’s mouth . . . I shake my head and wheeze a laugh. I don’t think I have ever laughed as much in my life as I have with these two. We pull out onto the road. I call Ivan to find out where Elija goes to school, then I call the school and am relieved they can fit us in immediately.

We take the tour of Elija’s school. It’s . . . normal. Thank fuck. We meet several teachers who seem to be friendly. A sense of relief fills me knowing Tuck will be okay; that he will thrive here. We have him enrolled within an hour and are out the door and on our way to lunch.

During lunch, Aspen told me she and Tuck had never been to Central Park and asked if we could go. I can’t tell her no, and even if I could, I wouldn’t want to. As we walk around the park mindlessly, we come to the entrance of Bethesda Fountain. Aspen reaches into her purse and pulls out all of her change. She hands a few coins to Tuck, then takes my hand and dumps a fewinto my palm. Her eyes slowly move up to mine. My heart races at her touch.

“What are we doing?” I ask her.

“Making wishes. What does it look like?” She eyes me curiously before coasting her way to the fountain.

We close the distance to the fountain and stand in front of the angel. With her eyes shut for a few long moments, Aspen’s head tilts up toward the sky. A smile plays on her lips as she mouths her wishes wordlessly, then she tosses her coins into the fountain. Tuck does the same, so I guess it’s my turn.

I’m not really sure what to wish for. I’ve never done this before, and I don’t know if I even believe in wishes coming true. Playing along to make them happy, and on the off chance that something will come of it, I make several wishes, then toss my coins in with theirs. Aspen gives me a bright smile.

She is the definition of joy. I know all too well how mad she can become and how mouthy she can be, but she doesn’t seem to let her anger simmer too long. Well, unless you were Callan Miles pre our heart-to-heart discussion. I guess I just knew what buttons to push. What I’ve noticed is even then, nothing—not past, present, or possible outcomes of the future—stands in the way of her happiness. She has every right to be mad at God or the universe, but she’s not. I admire her for that. I crave her joy. I don’t want to be broken anymore. I don’t want to feel like waking up every day is a chore. I want to be more like her . . . resilient.

“This is beautiful,” she whispers, staring at the fountain.

I cast my eyes on her profile, and for the first time she takes my breath away. I’ve always thought she was beautiful, but with a broad smile on her lips and the way her hair and skin glow from the sun, making her look like an angel, in this moment she is truly breathtaking. I want to touch her so badly, but we’re friends, and that’s all we can ever be. So, like I did the night wewere lying under the sky in her backyard, I let my pinky slightly graze her hand—just to get a fix. You can call me a coward for the not-so-accidental touches, but I don’t care. The need to touch her in some way consumes me.

“Yeah, it is,” I say, not taking my eyes off her. She turns to face me, her beautiful green eyes sparkling in the sunlight. She has a graceful smile, and I can’t help but smile back.

Tuck bumps into us while chasing pigeons just as I ask her, “What did you wish for?”

He opens his mouth to speak, but Aspen covers his mouth with her hand to stop him from talking. Giggling, she says, “You can’t say! It won’t come true!” She ruffles his head, then turns towards the entrance of the fountain, ready to leave.

People are standing still as statues in various places while music begins to play. Suddenly group of people begins to dance. She spins around in a circle watching all of them dance to a mix of pop songs.

“What is this?” She yells over the music.

“It’s a flash mob.” I yell back. She and Tuck turn their heads, watching and laughing over the music. I swear it’s the sweetest sound I’ve heard. A woman and young boy stand in the middle of the dancers. In front of her is a man down on one knee. I don’t miss the longing on Aspen’s face as the man proposes to the woman. She watches with a sweet smile on her face. The woman nods her head and throws her arms around the man. When the music stops and everyone begins to walk away, going about their lives like they didn’t just put on an incredible performance, we stroll out of the fountain area.

“That was amazing!” She beams.

We make our way through The Mall and Literary Walk, and then we take Tuck to sail remote control model sailboats. After two rides on the carousel, everything starts to shut down. One of the things I learned about Aspen today is that she likes alittle spontaneity. We spent the entire day together laughing and enjoying each other’s company. For the first time in four years, I lived.

CHAPTER TWELVE

Aspen

“Has anyone seen Coach?” I ask, as I round the doorway to the weight room. I stop dead in my tracks. I’m completely stunned into silence as my eyes land on a shirtless Cal doing pull-ups. With his arms, back, and core muscles straining, every single divot and predominant cut is on display for me. I have never in my life found forearms fucking sexy—until now. He’s so strong. His back muscles flex with each pull; the movement involuntarily draws my tongue out to lick my lips. My mind wanders to visions of me running my hands down his bare back, caressing as his muscles flex under my fingertips while he’s hovering over me. Considering it’s been years since I’ve been intimate with anyone, he would completely wreck me. But you know what? I would be wrecked with a satisfied smile on my face. Damn, he’s beautiful.

A reflection in the mirror catches my attention from my periphery, and draws me to his reflection. Gym shorts sit low on his waist, showing off his Adonis belt—the sexy V makes my thighs clench together. Holy shit. My brain is seriously short-circuiting as I watch rivulets of sweat drop down his rock-hard abs. My eyes trace up his torso to his shoulders, to his sharpjaw, before landing on his hazel eyes. They lock with mine. Heat flames my cheek.

I clear my throat, then quickly turn my head to find a shirtless Carter looking at me with a smirk and one raised brow.

“Holy fuck!” I nearly jump out of my skin. I certainly didn’t see him standing there. “Jesus! Do either of you wear clothes?” I snap. “Where’s coach?”

“Haven’t seen him.” Carter puts down the barbell.

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