Page 73 of Haunted Love

I thought maybe tonight, we could talk it out face-to-face. After we fucked all the pent-up anger out of our systems, we could sit at the Vixen bar down in the VIP lounge, or perhaps find a booth that offers a little more privacy and fucking talk for the first time . . . ever. Put everything out on the table and reestablish the lines that have become so blurred that I don’t even see them anymore.

But something tells me she’s not just late—she’s not coming.

The ice clinks in my glass as I lift it to my lips, drinking what’s left in the bottom.

Why do I feel so fucking worked up at the thought of Aspen blowing me off? That’s not how this was supposed to go. She would come, we’d fuck, and I’d get her out of my system . . . for the next few days, at least. But the desperation I feel for her always comes back, and each time it does, it’s more intense and so much harder to ignore. That much was proven at Cherry when I broke all my fucking rules and took her outside my office.

I’ve made a point not to break the rules. We put them in place for a reason and now everything is fucked up, and because of that, I’m standing alone at a bar, being stood up by the woman I always swore I’d never want.

What the fuck is wrong with me?

Hell, since Cherry, I haven’t even taken a moment to consider Austin’s feelings because suddenly what he wants doesn’t matter to me anymore. On some level at least. He’ll always be my best friend, and I’ll always value his opinion, but she’s what matters now. She’s my priority, and right now, she’s hurting so fucking bad that she couldn’t even show up to call me a fucking asshole.

Shit.

I need to get over there.

I need to make this right, but I don’t know how to do that, especially considering I can’t give her the one thing she wants. How am I supposed to fix this?

Pulling my phone out of my pocket, I bring up her name before hitting call and holding the phone to my ear, then as it rings, I make my way out of the club. There’s no answer, but I’m not surprised. After she asked me not to call her yesterday, of course I tried, but every single call got denied. She didn’t even respond to my text.

Shit. What if something is wrong? What if I’ve pushed her too far, hurt her too much? What if she’s lying on her bathroom floor unable to breathe?

Picking up my pace, I fly past Casey, ignoring whatever bullshit comes out of her mouth as I try Aspen’s phone again.

No answer.

Fuck.

Getting out to the street, I barrel into my Escalade and hit the gas, flying toward Aspen’s apartment. It’s only a short ten-minute drive, but I do it in six, speeding right through the red lights and flying way above the speed limit.

My front tire runs up over the curb as I come to a screeching halt outside her apartment, and within seconds, I’m out of my car and storming through the entrance to the complex. My heart races with every step I take, forcing myself faster, convinced something terrible has happened.

I don’t know what I’m about to walk into, but I prepare myself for the worst, knowing that whatever it is, it’s on me.

Reaching her apartment, I shove my spare key into the lock, the very one both Austin and I had made in case of emergencies, and without a second of hesitation, I throw the door open. Rushing inside, my gaze shoots from left to right, desperately seeking her out.

“ASPEN?” I call, racing toward her bedroom.

“WHAT IN THE EVER-LOVING FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING?”

I pause, twisting around toward the sound of her voice, and find Aspen standing in the doorway of her small bathroom with a vile of mascara in her hand and a glare bigger than Texas across her face. “I thought—”

“Whatever the fuck you thought, you’re wrong,” she says, clearly not impressed with my intrusion.

“Where the fuck have you been? You were supposed to meet me at eight.”

Aspen scoffs and turns away, walking back into her bathroom and getting to work on her makeup, though she doesn’t need it. She’s fucking flawless. “I wasn’t supposed to do shit,” she tells me. “Besides, I’m going out. I’ve got a date.”

Over my dead body.

25

ASPEN

I’m gonna kill him. It’s the only logical thing to do.

What the hell does he think he’s doing storming in here like that anyway? I swear, the audacity of this man infuriates me like never before, but I do what I can to keep my composure. After all, Becs and I are going out tonight. Not that Izaac needs to know that. I might have fudged the details about my plans, but if I mean so little to him, then why should my plans matter?

---