I give his shoulder a shove. He, being built like a Greek god, doesn’t budge. He opens my door for me and closes it as I take my seat.
Thirty minutes in, I've got my coffee, and my body wiggles with joy.
“Doing your happy dance, must be one good coffee.” He shakes his head with a wide grin.
Sometimes I forget how much time we’ve spent together, and how well he knows me. Every now and then he finishes my sentences, and he always knows just what to say.
Nope. I pinch myself to sidetrack my thought process.
Thoughts like these are forbidden. It’s how I’ve kept my heart safe. Casually sleeping with a guy you had a major crush on is not one of my wisest decisions. But somehow, I've been able to keep myself in check with firm rules of my own.
Number one, no sleepovers. If I happen to doze off, when I wake up, no matter the time, I leave.
Number two, no day dreaming. No imagining what life would be like if we jumped. If we took this to the next level. Those thoughts only end with the harsh realization that Rhett doesn’t want that, for whatever reason. He’s a good guy; in fact, he’s my dream guy, so if he says he can’t, then I should respect that.
I’m thinking of adding a third rule of attempting to date and meet someone. Because sooner or later this has to end, or I will end up all alone. I’m allergic to cats, so I can’t be a crazy cat lady, but I have considered getting a fish.
Sometimes I wonder if I should just try and see if he’s changed his mind. We haven’t talked about it for a while though and it’s intimidating to put myself out there. Even worse, I don’t want to ruin what we have. It’s worked for me. It’s like having the best of both worlds. Someone to have fun with, excellent sex, yes, but still being able to live for myself. Not having to be tied to someone.
“Whatcha thinking ‘bout?” Rhett asks, putting his hand over mine at the console.
Guess he noticed I was in my head; he always notices.
I debate how honest I want to be. Maybe now is a good time to check back in with where his head is at; maybe things have changed for him. As much as I try to gaslight myself, I know deep down I long for something deeper than fun.
“Just about you and me,” I start, wanting to say more.
His body goes stiff and he immediately pulls his hand from mine.
“Aspen, I still can’t. If that’s what you’re thinking.” His voice is gruff and it sounds pained. His eyes avoid mine, but I can see the tightness in them, echoing the pain in his voice.
I have so many questions, but I don’t think I should have to beg for answers. If he wanted to give them, he would. He isn’t abad guy; he’s the farthest from it. There’s something he’s hiding, and maybe someday he will feel safe enough to tell me.
“That’s fine, I just wanted to make sure we were still on the same page,” I lie. Lying to protect him from disappointing me. I can shoulder that; I do it all the time. Take the brunt of it to make it easier on those around me. I like doing that; I like being the one who makes life easier for other people. Taking care of them, whatever that includes.
He relaxes at that, and I move my eyes back forward; he’s not the only one who gets to hide the truth.
I tuck the little feelings for him that have tried to escape from my carefully guarded box. This is still good. He’s still my best friend, sex included or not. Starting tomorrow, I’m doubling down on that whole no daydreaming thing.
Chapter 5
Aspen
Family dinners are a regular occurrence at my parents’ house. They’re not always on the same night, but we eat at least one meal together a week. As a kid, it was always my favorite thing, but I think I love it even more as an adult, a time to come together that’s not about work or the ranch, just time spent together.
I walk up the front steps to my parents’ house and swing open the door. The smell of garlic and herbs wafts through the room. My parents are in the kitchen working together, preparing dinner. My dad comes behind my mom and wraps her in a hug; I don’t think they even know I’m here yet. Lost in their own little love bubble. If I’ve ever doubted that love is everlasting, these two have proved it truly can be. In fact, I think they love each other even more now than they did when we were kids.
“Before you guys get weird, I want you to know I’m here,” I shout out before any obscure public display of affection starts tohappen. I can hear my dad’s chuckle from the front door as he pulls away from my mom.
“How are you doing, honey?” my mom asks as she opens the oven and pulls out a roasted chicken. I make my way to the bar seating in the kitchen and plop down.
“Pretty good. Whatever you’re making smells great. Do you need any help?”
“Well, now that you ran off my help, if you wouldn’t mind finishing up the mashed potatoes, that would be great.”
“I didn’t tell him to go away. I just didn’t want y’all to get all lovey-dovey while I was watching. I know Dad can get a little handsy when it comes to you.”
She flushes a little and I smile to myself. I hope that someday when I’m married, my spouse and I can be thirty-five years in and still smitten.
