“What do you mean?” He furrows his brow.
Wrapping my arms across my chest, I say, “I mean, I think I want what everyone at the table has tonight. A family, a future,” I swallow my nerves before tacking on, “love.”
He noticeably stiffens, not exactly the reaction I was hoping for. I guess a silly part of me thought that he would want to, buthe’s been clear the whole time. No strings attached. Just fun. Just friends.
If I had to pick the perfect person for me, it would be the man standing in front of me. He’s everything I’m not, true opposites in a way that creates a beautiful balance. Quiet where I am outspoken. He thinks everything through and I act on a whim. And right now, he’s strong while I am falling apart inside.
With my hands tucked and hidden underneath the ends of my long sleeves, he can’t see me squeeze the material of my shirt as I gather more courage. “I know that’s not what you want and I’m starting to realize that it is what I want. What I need. And more than that, it’s not worth it to ruin your friendship with my brother over a fling. If this were something more, it would be worth the risk.”
I feel like I’m trying to lure him into saying he has feelings for me, trying to tell him it’s okay to say the rules of our relationship have changed, but he just nods with a grunt. His eyes are downcast on the ground, avoiding mine.
“If that's what you’re wanting then, I think I’m picking up what you’re putting down.”
It’s my turn to nod. My heart aches with the loss. It feels like we’re breaking up, but we were never together. And I’ll never find my person if I stay attached to the hip to someone I have no future with.
“I want to find someone who is capable of loving me and I will never do that if I’m in your bed, so I think we need some distance. We can go back to how things were…before.” My words are a little sharp as the pain in my chest begins to flare even brighter. If he isn’t capable of loving me, I’m going to find someone who can.
“Aspen…” He looks to be a bit pained, but I need to remove myself from this situation before my resolve vanishes. If hewanted more, he would have said it by now, and I have far too much respect to beg him for love.
“Good night, Rhett.” I reach up on my tiptoes to give him one last kiss on his cheek as a final goodbye, leaving a piece of my heart with him.
I walk to my car, only allowing one tear to fall down, fighting the dam behind my eyes that wants to break. Tomorrow is day one of me choosing myself, but today I can wallow with the thought of what I wish it was.
Chapter 6
Aspen
I’m not sure why I thought this was a good idea; actually, that’s a lie. I know why I’m here. But now that I am sitting here faced with my decisions, I've decided I should have my decision-making privileges revoked. I should put Willow in charge; she seems to have her shit together and loves telling people what to do.
When I told Rhett I wanted more, I half expected him to say screw it and take the leap with me, but he didn’t. I’m not getting any younger and I want love, the love I see all around me.
Being that the dating pool here is about as deep as a puddle during a drought, I signed up for a dating app. I thought it would take a while for matches to roll in and a date to be set up. That was four days ago, and now I am going on my first date in years.
I stare at myself in the mirror. My long brown hair is curled into soft waves, and my white top has sleeves that widen at the ends, matching the flared jeans I’m wearing. It’s fall, whichmeans it’s a bit nippy outside in Windy Wyoming. My date is driving all the way from Cheyenne, which is a two-hour drive. That is the type of effort I'm looking for, so he gets one brownie point for that. He offered to pick me up, but just in case he turns out to be a serial killer, I don’t feel like becoming a skin suit, so we are meeting at the bar downtown.
I spritz on my favorite perfume and take one last look in the mirror. My mother would have my ass if she knew I was going on a date with a stranger tonight, but that’s why she only gets the highlight reel. She’s been begging me to date, but until recently, I was good with being alone. She’s probably going to be more upset about missing the chance to play cupid.
My alarm sounds off, a sign that it is time to go. “Okay, Aspen, try not to scare the man off and maybe let him get a word or two in, alright?” I say to myself in the mirror, which is probably one of the weirder and more pathetic things I’ve done. Good start to the night.
My car comes to a halt as I pull up to Luke’s and snag the last parking spot in front. Pulling out my phone, I message my date and let him know I’m here before heading in. If I don’t see him, I’ll grab us a table. A nervous flutter starts in my stomach as my steps carry me to the front of the bar. I close my eyes and take a deep breath, settling my nerves as much as I can before I snag the door open.
Music bounces off the walls. Gertie and the Gang, our local band, are jamming out on stage. The bar isn’t large by any means; it’s a small town, but it’s packed in here nonetheless. My eyes scan the room for my date, Cameron. A hand waves, catching my attention, and my eyes land on him as he stands out of his chair, making his way over.
He’s tall, at least 6’2, but that’s not what makes him stand out; he’s in dress slacks and a nice button-up shirt. It looks like he headed here straight from the office. His hair is neatly styled,longer than his pictures with a nice wave to it; it’s giving blonde Fabio in the best way. He’s handsome. And completely different from the men currently in my life, but I think that is for the best. I don’t think I’m meant for cowboys.
He walks up and shoots out his hand. “You have to be Aspen, unless beautiful women grow on trees here?”
My cheeks flush with the compliment. “That is very sweet of you, yes I’m Aspen. Thank you so much for meeting me.”
His eyes quickly rake over my body and I remind myself to stand a little taller. “No need to thank me, you want to take a seat?”
“Yes, please. Thank you.”
He points to where we are going to sit and I’m surprised by the thrill I feel from his hand on my lower back as he guides me to our table, then pulls out my chair and takes a seat across from me.
“I can’t believe how busy this place is,” he says, looking around the room. Likely seeing that he is in a room full of ranch hands, cowboys, and blue-collar men.
“It’s always busy on Friday and Saturday; people around here work really hard and play harder,” I say as I pick up the drink menu. I don’t need it; I get the same thing every time.
