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“He did.” I smile. “But I think I screwed up with the snowboarder. I sort of haven’t talked to him after we spent the night. I only answered to his text. He hasn’t even read it yet,” I tell them, my phone burning a hole in my jacket.
“Ace,” Angie says softly. “When you texted me last week, you were having the time of your life with him.”
I run my fingers through my hair, then pick up my fork and start playing with my food. “I don’t know how something like that could ever work,” I mumble.
“Doesn’t he live around here?” Layne asks.
“He does, but he made it clear he isn’t looking for something long-lasting. I don’t even know where I want to live yet… if I want to stop running and grow a pair and talk to Mom and Dad.” I shrug.
“They’re waiting,” Layne says.
“I know, and I missed Aspen.” I grimace. “But dating some board guy, I don’t know, it just makes it all too real.”
“What’s the problem, then?” Layne asks, his mouth full of pasta.
“The guy is five years younger, and I don’t really know anything about him,” I mumble.
“You don’t know what he does for a living?” Angie says.
I grind my teeth together. “I think he’s a teacher.”
Angie laughs, shaking her head. “Only you can sleep with a guy and not ask him about his life.”
“Hey, that’s not fair.” I pout.
“I don’t want to be part of this conversation anymore, and he kind of looks like that snowboarder I saw practicing in the pipe with the other X Games guys,” Layne says.
“Shush,” Angie says, waving her hand in front of his face.
“If he was dropping down the pipe at the Games, I think he would have told me.” I laugh.
“What’s he like?” she asks, resting her chin on her hand, while Layne picks up the empty plates and puts them in the dishwasher.
“Hot, funny, carefree, wild. He has a great sense of humor. He can be serious and grumpy at times,” I tell her, daydreaming about him. “He makes me smile.” I sigh. It comes out a little breathless.
“What’s the problem then, hon? Is it his dick?” she whispers.
“Baby, you know I can hear you, right?” Layne asks, kissing her forehead. “You guys want coffee?”
She pushes him back in the direction of the kitchen.
“Thanks.” He rolls his eyes at his girlfriend, and I chuckle.
“I don’t know how it would ever work. Yes, we had a great time, but I don’t even know what I want. If I want to stay here or settle someplace else,” I mumble, showing her the texts he sent.
“Why not? We’d love for you to come live here. Mom and Dad miss you. And come on, Aspen has been our home for seventeen plus years,” Layne says, grabbing a couple of mugs for the coffee.
“Why don’t you ask him out again?” Angie prods. “Give it a shot.”
“The guy sounds nice enough,” Layne says, pouring the coffee.
“He is,” I begin, “but—”
“But what?” Angie asks.
My fingers grip the edges of the seat. “I don’t know. I’m a mess, a freaking indecisive mess. I don’t know what I want.”
“Sis, I love you,” Layne says, handing me a steaming cup of coffee. “But you can be a pain in the ass when it comes to decision making and staying in one place for too long. Why don’t you come over to Mom and Dad’s next Friday? He has a couple of new plans in the works. How long ago did you go to the house? I guess way before Seattle?” he asks, leaning back in his chair.
