The Road to Finding Us: A Standalone Second Chance Romance (Aftershock Series Book 2)

by Kat Singleton

I use my free hand to pinch the brim of my nose. I’m two seconds away from giving this guy a piece of my mind, but I hold my tongue. I’m not here to judge his choice of tattoos or be the bearer of bad news that his name is fucking ridiculous. I don’t give a rat’s ass what he does as long as it doesn’t involve Lily.

  Lily giggles, and it’s followed closely by a hiccup. Her face pinches together when she says, “Chaz?”

  He continues to nod, seemingly unaware that she’s unimpressed.

  My patience with the whole ordeal expires, then. Without any more words, I squat down, hoisting Lily over my shoulder in one easy swoop. Once she’s settled in my grasp, I stand back up to my full height and turn toward the door. I avoid eye contact with my table of friends and Lenny on my way out. I don’t need their damn judgment right now.

  Maverick would be glad if he knew I was currently removing his drunk-as-a-skunk sister from a situation she’d probably regret.

  At least, I think he would.

  “Put me the fuck down!” Lily shrieks, her hands beating the spot right above my ass.

  I tighten my hold around the back of her thighs at the same moment she decides to start kicking her legs as well.

  The two of us probably make an interesting sight right now. Lily, thrown over my shoulder like a doll—a very unhappy doll—and me, with a straight face trying to finagle my way out of the crowded bar.

  “Stop moving,” I say through my teeth, adjusting her position over my shoulder.

  “I’ll stop moving when you put me down.” Her legs begin kicking again, her death-trap heels inches away from kicking me in the face.

  “Not happening, Lily Bear. Might as well get comfortable.” I use my hand that isn’t currently wrapped around the back of her bare thigh to push the door to Lenny’s open.

  A group of co-eds stop their conversation when they catch sight of us. All I do is shoot them a glare, my feet taking me toward the busy parking lot.

  Lily smacks me right on the ass—hard—and says, “I have two feet, you know. I can walk myself.” Another slap against my ass comes, but this time she uses both hands.

  “Careful getting rough with me, Lily. I might like it.” I feel the muscles in her stomach tighten on my shoulder as my lips quirk, a hint of a smile appearing.

  I dig into the pocket of my jeans, pulling her keys out from where I’d stored them. I lift the key fob in the air, pressing the alarm button to help me locate her car. “Why so quiet all of a sudden?” I ask her, happy to hear the sound of her car nearby.

  We head in the direction of the noise, with Lily still thrown over my shoulder but no longer kicking or hitting. “If I throw up, I’m going to aim it right down your back.” Her hair tickles my back through the thin fabric of my shirt, and I don’t think she meant for the warning to feel so provocative.

  “You don’t scare me.” Her tiny car comes into view. “Plus, you never throw up when you drink too much.”

  I hear her teeth snap together as I press the button to unlock her car. “And how do you know that?” she spits out, shuffling in my arms as I put her in the passenger seat of her car.

  She slumps in her seat, her drunken gaze loosely pinned on me. Silently, I reach for the seatbelt, running my fingers down the smooth fabric as I pull it out. My arm brushes against her chest, causing her to straighten in her seat. There’s a click as the seatbelt snaps into place. Even if it might just be more of an excuse to be near her, I pull the cloth of the seatbelt tight to secure her in.

  I’m leaning over her, close enough to smell the vodka on her breath. I make sure to look her right in the eye when I respond, “I know everything about you, Lily. And I’m sick of pretending I don’t.”

  I hear her quick intake of breath at my words, and I can’t help but let my gaze wander down to where her chest rapidly rises and falls. Too scared of her reaction, I slam the door shut. I make sure to take a long, deep, calming breath before opening the driver’s side door. She’s got my mind spinning into overdrive.

  I slide into the seat and press the button to start her car. I don’t brave looking over at her, too afraid of what might look back at me. I just handed her a big secret of mine, and part of me hopes that, come morning, she won’t remember that she has it.

  She shouldn’t. It’s better for both of us if she doesn’t.

  So why does part of me hope that she does?

  24

  Lily

  Present

  Oddly enough, the three-hour car ride with Aspen from Ed’s diner to Nashville was surprisingly pleasant. We managed to catch up on each other’s lives with only a few insults thrown in here and there.

  Apparently, Aspen has been putting his business degree to good use. Shocking, I know. Back in college, I used to poke fun at him all the time for working toward the typical default degree. But, he now has a job in commercial real estate, and judging by the pictures he showed me of the house he bought that he’s currently having completely gutted and redesigned, he’s doing well for himself. As he explains what exactly he does for a living, I bite my tongue and try not to tell him his job sounds utterly boring.

  I have no room to talk; it’s not like my fashion degree is getting put to good use. I work at an upscale boutique in downtown Dallas, selling my soul to hopefully be able to open up my own boutique one day. That day seems very, very far away. If I’m being honest, right now my work life revolves around doing whatever the hell my boss asks me to do.

  “It’s just that, she has the most boring style ever,” I tell him during my rant. “I’m all for a neutral look, but I don’t think she’d know what a statement piece was if it hit her in the face.”

  Aspen chuckles. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, but I believe you.” With that, he winks at me—and for some reason, I don’t mind it.

  In fact, by the way I can feel the blood rushing to my cheeks, I might actually like it.

  Dear God, it’s me, Lily. Don’t let me fall for it. I chant the mantra over and over, trying not to look at his delicious dimple that’s now making an appearance.

  He broke your heart, remember? I tell my libido, or whatever the hell is making me look at him right now with a flush to my cheeks.

  Not only did he break it, he stomped all over it and moved on ONE day later with someone else. Not bothering to explain himself in the process.

  My heart—or lady bits—can gtfo. My brain is taking control. And it says we will not fall for Aspen Bellevue’s antics again. Never, ever, ever again.

  I shake my head, trying to free it from any thoughts of Aspen. “Thank you!” I exclaim, tossing my hands out with emphasis. “Every outfit needs something to make it a little less boring. And don’t even get me started on her taste in home décor. I mean, there’s minimalistic, and then there’s trying to compete with Kim and Kanye for the most boring space ever. Have you ever seen their house, Aspen? It’s god awful and Marie thinks it’s tasteful. Ugh!” I groan, pulling at my cheeks in frustration.

  “Kim and Kanye live together?” Aspen merges out of the fast lane, letting a semi-truck pass us.

  I gasp, my head quickly turning to look at him. My jaw is wide open before I can finally regain control and confirm what I think he just said. “You’re joking, right?” I sit up in my seat.

  Surely, he isn’t living that far under a rock.

  “Aspen,” I say calmly, internally freaking out at his lack of pop culture. “Kim and Kanye have been together since two thousand twelve. They have like four kids together, all with weird ass names. How do you not know this?” I flick him on his bicep, still in shock he didn’t know the full extent of Kimye’s existence.

  “Ow,” he starts, taking one hand off the wheel to rub the spot I just flicked. “I’m sorry for working my big boy job and not paying attention to reality TV stars.”

  His phone’s GPS says something about our next turn, but I barely register it.

  “I just thought you’d be super into Kim Kardashian, with your type and womanizer tenden
cies and all,” I mumble, chewing on my bottom lip as soon as the words leave my mouth.

  Aspen looks over at me, a taunting smirk on his lips.

  Yep, I was just busted fishing for information on his dating life. Freaking sue me.

  “We’ve been out of college for years, Lily. You don’t know any of my tendencies anymore. Plus, there’s this girl I’m very much into. I might tell her how I feel one day.” He steers Gladys off the highway and onto an off-ramp while I analyze every one of his last words.

  A girl?

  Who?!

  “Oh, really?” I stutter out.

  “Yep,” he says, popping the ‘p’ at the end. “I think you’d really like her, actually.”

  My hesitant gaze finds his, and I’m shocked to find a playful look on his face. Like this girl must really have his heart. He looks like a lovesick dog right now.

  What the fuck parallel universe am I living in?

  Are Aspen and I really about to talk about a girl he’s apparently so interested in that he’s not a man whore anymore?

  “Hmm, okay,” I finally get out, while pulling at one of the denim strands of my shorts. I wrap it around my finger until the tip turns pink, thinking of a response. “So, a girl?”

  He laughs quietly, leaning over to look in the passenger side mirror, bringing him closer to me. “Yes, Lily. I’m interested in girls. Well, one girl. But she doesn’t know it—yet.”

  I nod curiously, looking down at the strand now cutting circulation off to my index finger. “Yet?” I can’t seem to form sentences at the moment. I’m too caught up in the fact that Aspen Bellevue is interested in only one girl. And is claiming he’s changed his ways for her.

  Lucky her.

  Wait, no—not lucky. Or…?

  I don’t fucking know. I don’t care. Right?

  I try not to think too much into it, but it’s hard for me not to wonder what she has that I didn’t have years ago.

  “Are you only going to respond with one-word answers now?” he asks, calling me out.

  “Shut up,” I snap, giving him the evil eye.

  He mock-gasps, “Well, that was two, at least. Baby steps.”

  Well, at least asshole Aspen is back. I didn’t quite know how to handle his sentimental counterpart.

  The two of us are silent until he swings into a hotel parking lot and puts Gladys in park.

  His head turns toward me. “We’re here.”

  “I gathered.” Grabbing my purse, I hightail it out of the car. I need some space from him, the fresh air a welcomed reprieve.

  We both grab our bags from the bed of the truck and head inside the hotel, where I’m slightly impressed with how nice it is. It’s modern, with a Nashville country twist.

  Our feet make screeching noises over the freshly-polished floor. As I look around the lobby, I’m highly taken with their décor. We make it to the front desk, which is made out of reclaimed wood. The young woman sitting there shamelessly flirts with Aspen the whole time we check in.

  I roll my eyes at how completely obvious she’s being.

  Might as well come around the desk and straddle him, why don’t ya?

  As soon as she hands us the room key, I snatch it out of her hand, shooting her a look that hopefully makes her rethink her professionalism. I don’t bother to check if Aspen is following behind me. I find the elevator and get in it—alone.

  Part of me wants to be annoyed he’s still talking to Miss Desperate, but honestly, I shouldn’t have expected anything different.

  It’s comical that ten minutes ago he was telling me how interested he was in some girl.

  Yeah, right.

  Seeing as he’s still down there flirting while I search for our room tells me everything I need to know about him.

  He hasn’t changed one bit.

  I let myself into our room, happy to see that finally, we have two separate full-size beds. I decide that, since he’s still busy downstairs, I’ll take the bed closer to the window. It’s only fair.

  Plus, it’s always been my thing to sleep furthest away from the door if possible. That way, if a murderer happens to come through, I won’t be the first to go down.

  I drop my bag onto the bed, my body following suit. I practically melt into the mattress, and it’s oddly comfy for a hotel bed. Just when I’m starting to doze off from the car ride, my phone vibrates from my pocket. I pull it out, checking to see who it is.

  Veronica: Hey! Where are you now?

  Lily: Nashville

  Veronica: Yee-haw! *cowboy emoji*

  Veronica: Are you going to ride Aspen tonight?

  Lily: STOP IT!!!!!

  Veronica: Stop what?

  Lily: You know exactly what. We are no longer friends.

  Veronica: Aww, don’t say that. You’re stuck with me, babe.

  Lily: Nope.

  Veronica: Oh, c’mon. You love me. Plus, I’m not the one that admitted to having the best sex of my life with Aspen…

  Lily: YOU PROMISED TO NEVER SPEAK OF THAT AGAIN

  Veronica: Is it technically speaking if it’s texted? Asking for a friend…

  Lily: I confessed that after way too many margaritas. We aren’t speaking of it. Or texting of it. Nothing.

  Veronica: Suit yourself. All I’m saying is…giddy up, cowgirl!

  I throw my phone into my bag, deciding to ignore Veronica and her antics. She must think she’s hilarious, taunting me with information I gave her while very inebriated. I don’t know what her fasciation is, with Aspen and I sleeping together, but she’ll get over it. Eventually.

  My stomach growls, alerting me to the fact that I haven’t eaten in forever, the lone piece of beef jerky Aspen shared with me barely counting as sustenance. I don’t know if Aspen has plans for us for food, but considering he’s still not in here, I start my search for the room service menu.

  While walking toward the desk against the middle of the wall, it occurs to me I haven’t examined the room much. Looking around, I finally realize how nice this room is. The floors are a beautiful dark hardwood, a sharp contrast against the stark white walls and hotel bedding. The headboards of our two beds are made of a beautiful, dark wood, both resting against a polka-dot wallpapered wall. It all flows together seamlessly, mixing modern textures with minimalistic features.

  My jaw drops when I walk into the bathroom, falling instantly in love with the floor. Black and white tiles, placed together in a beautiful mosaic. I stare at where my bare feet stand over the design, wiggling my toes against the cold floor. The walls of the bathroom are black, with a white tub and a shower sitting in opposite corners. The towels are an emerald green. Part of me wants to live in this bathroom. The design is gorgeous, something I’d love to put in a house of my own one day.

  Continuing my mission, I leave the bathroom and pick up the room service menu. I call the front desk (not getting the receptionist who’s probably still flirting with Aspen) and order enough food to feed a small army.

  Fifteen minutes later, Aspen’s still gone, but there’s a knock on the door.

  “Come in,” I yell, hopping off the bed and closing the distance to the door. Once I open the door, I’m met with a multitude of delicious aromas.

  “Where would you like the food?” the waiter asks, pushing the cart in while I step aside.

  “Right here is good.” I point to the spot directly in front of my bed. He wastes no time aligning the cart in front of my bed and excusing himself.

  I dig into my food, channel surfing while shoveling the food into my mouth at record speed. I land on an old episode of reality TV, getting suckered into the housewife drama while I feast on all the carbs—pasta, bread, fries. You name it, I ordered it all.

  After god knows how long, Aspen finally walks into the room, setting his bag on the floor.

  “Have fun?” I ask innocently, chewing my fry.

  “Yep. After I finished talking with Giselle, I had to make a phone call. After that, I went to the hotel store and got us some party
favors.” He pulls out a few bottles of liquor and lines them up on the desk under the TV.

  “I have no desire to drink and have a hangover in the car tomorrow.”

  “You ordered food?” Aspen asks, sizing up the spread I have out in front of me.

  With a mouth full of garlic bread, I respond, “I was starving, and I didn’t know how long you would be with Giselle.”

  “Give me some.” Aspen plops down beside me, his weight displacing me on the bed. He reaches for a piece of garlic bread, but I quickly swat it out of his hands.

  “No touching my carbs!” I exclaim, shoving the piece of bread he was just holding into my mouth.

  In all honesty, I’m getting full. But I also feel like he should at least ask to eat the food that I took the time to order while he was with Giselle.

  Aspen pays no attention to me, though. He picks up the fork I was just using, twirls a heaping amount of pasta on it, and shovels it into his mouth. He looks over at me, smiling through a mouth full of chicken alfredo.

  “Gross. Close your mouth while you’re eating,” I chide, scooting away from him.

  He finishes the rest of my food quickly, not leaving a single scrap behind. The two of us clean up the mess in silence, Aspen rolling the dishes out into the hallway when we’re done.

  When he comes back from the hallway, he holds up the liquor bottle and shakes it like that might change my mind on drinking.

  It doesn’t.

  I shake my head, not saying anything to Aspen as I walk into the bathroom and shut the door behind me. After I turn the shower on, I undress from my clothes for the day. It’s at this exact moment I realize I forgot to bring my bag in.

  Shit on a stick.

  Already naked and ready for a long hot shower, I hop in, deciding I’ll worry about getting fresh clothes later. My muscles are sore from sitting in the car today, so the hot water is a nice relief against my tense muscles.

  I stay in the shower much longer than I’d anticipated, allowing the water to go cold in the process. After tightly wrapping a towel around my body, I open the bathroom door. A scream—and a few curse words—leave my mouth when I’m greeted with a grinning Aspen.