“No.” I bite my lip. “But I kind of wish we were.”
“Are you going to try and talk to him?”
“I think I’ll regret it if I don’t.” I glance at the doors to the General Store. “I should really go help him.”
A throat clears behind me, and I turn around to find Emmett, who wasn’t there a moment ago, standing far enough back that I know he’s not trying to lurk but that there’s no way he didn’t hear some of that.
CHAPTER
THIRTY-SEVEN
EMMETT
Aspen is jittery as we start down the highway, Timberline Peak shrinking in the rearview mirror.
It was obvious from the way her eyes widened outside the General Store that I interrupted something.
I didn’t catch much, just enough to know my name came up more than once and that Aspen apparently plans on regretting something if she doesn’t do it.
Ever since, she’s been glancing at me like she’s working up the nerve to say something.
At least I’ve got driving to keep me from going nuts while I wait. I was fully prepared to white-knuckle the passenger seat the entire way if it meant staying beside her. There’s something about giving up control on the road that crawls under my skin in all the worst ways.
“All my memories in this Jeep are from that seat,” she explained earlier, pointing toward the passenger seat. “Might be nice to ride there again.”
So here I am, trying not to think too hard about whatever conversation I interrupted while I drive us toward Coyote Creek with the top off the Jeep and sunlight catching in Aspen’s hair.
Twenty minutes in, the silence that would normally feel comfortable has turned deafening. Aspen keeps throwing me these quick sideways glances before immediately looking back at the road, and every one ratchets my nerves tighter.
“So . . .” she finally says.
I wait for the rest, but apparently those two letters were a complete sentence.
“So,” I repeat.
She tucks her legs underneath herself before immediately stretching them back out again. “This is stupid,” she mutters.
I glance over at her, fighting a smile. “What is?”
Aspen huffs out a breath and drags her teeth over her bottom lip. “How nervous I am.”
That gets my attention. Aspen’s a lot of things, but nervous usually isn’t one of them.
“You’ve got no reason to be.”
“That’s easy for you to say.”
The vulnerability in her voice pulls my eyes from the road. I reach across the bench seat and pry her hand loose from where she’s twisting it in her lap.
“Hey.” I squeeze her fingers once. “Talk to me.”
Her laugh comes out thin and shaky. “I’m trying.”
The admission lands somewhere deep in my chest.
Aspen stares out through the open Jeep for a second before finally saying, “Things between us stopped feeling casual somewhere along the way, and I think I’m a little scared to find out if I’m the only one who noticed.”
Well. Fuck.
