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

by Kat Singleton

  He steps forward again and I notice that the green of his eyes is barely noticeable behind his dilated pupils. His nostrils are flaring, and I can see his jaw tic further with each passing second.

  “Christ, Lily, let me fucking spell it out for you. I was in love with you. Everyone knew it but you. Maverick knew it, Selma knew it. Hell, even Veronica knew it once she came into the picture. I never got the chance to tell you this, but that first night we kissed, it changed my life. I knew right then that all I wanted was you. That all I ever needed was you. But after we slept together, you were so convinced I was freaked out and didn’t want you, when I was just trying to process how bad I did want you. How much I loved you. How happy it made me to know I was the only man who’d ever been inside you. I was ready to convince you of all this, but you pushed me away. You didn’t believe me when I told you I hadn’t done anything with any of the girls you saw after we were together. So I shut down, because if I couldn’t convince the woman I was love in love with that I wasn’t a piece of shit, what was the point? In not believing me, you broke my heart.”

  He looks into the distance for a moment before taking a deep breath. “No, you didn’t even break it, you shattered it. My whole plan blew up in my face, and I lost you—completely. You barely even looked at me the next day. So I stopped trying. I gave you what you wanted. You wanted to protect your heart by pretending I was a man whore, so I gave you that. I pretended to be one. Bringing girls into my room was easy, I didn’t have to do anything with them. They were just there. Selma told me to give you time and you’d come around, but you never did. Therefore, I shut my emotions off and moved on. I played the part you so desperately wanted me to play. It still feels like a punch to the gut every time I see you, knowing you’ll never be mine because you can’t look at me and trust me when I say I want you and only you. But I’m living with that. So if you could do me one last favor and stop bringing up the day my heart was ripped from my chest, I’d appreciate it.”

  By the end of his speech, we’re chest to chest. His heaving breaths are in time with mine, and I can feel his rapid heartbeat against my own. Aspen stares at me, waiting for an answer, and a million different scenarios unfold in my head.

  I know I should respond, but I can’t say anything, can’t feel anything. His gaze searches mine a moment longer until I swear I see his broken heart right through his gaze. He lets out a frustrated breath before walking past me.

  I’m left standing in the pouring rain, alone. The rain beats against me and I can’t seem to care. My whole world just crashed down right in front of me. It feels like I’ve been ripped from my own fantasy world and set into a reality I didn’t want. Thunder rolls in the distance, competing with the sound of my heart shattering inside me. My tears mix with the rain until I don’t know which is which.

  I silently follow behind him, the lights from the town slowly coming into focus ahead of us. I can’t even bring myself to be excited about the prospect of civilization, as my head is still spinning with Aspen’s revelations. Not even the sounds of the storm can distract me from the storm going on in my mind.

  32

  Aspen

  Present

  Neither one of us talk as we make our way toward the sleepy town. I stare at Lily’s back as we walk in the direction of the flickering lights ahead. I’m too angry with her to spark up any kind of conversation.

  I’m so fucking sick of having to play the villain in her story. I’m tired of having to play the part—in her mind—of the guy who can’t keep his dick in his pants.

  Memories come racing back to me. I think back, trying to pinpoint the moment I realized I was in love with Lily Morrison. I can’t remember an exact time and place. It just seems like a feeling, as much a part of me as anything else in me is. I can remember the day she broke my heart, however. The day she stormed out of my house, without giving me the chance to even begin to explain my reaction. When she told me I was the only man she’d ever slept with, I lost my shit. But not in the way she assumed.

  I lost my shit because it dawned on me that I desperately wanted to be the only man to ever be intimate with her like that.

  I was so busy avoiding my feelings for Lily, I didn’t notice I was falling in love with her.

  She made me so fucking angry when she used my past against me. She threw old flames in my face like it was nothing. I tried to tell her there was no way in hell those other girls could ever hold a candle to her, but she wouldn’t listen.

  In that moment, I realized I was in love with a girl who was too obsessed with pegging me as a playboy to consider I’d happily change my ways if it meant I got to keep her.

  So I gave her what she wanted. I pretended to go right back to my previous antics.

  If she wanted to pin me as a man whore, if it made things easier for her, I’d let her.

  Anytime she was over visiting Maverick or V, I made sure to have a girl over—or multiple. Nothing ever happened with them. We’d spend the night playing Words with Friends or long rounds of Monopoly, but I never let Lily in on that secret.

  Why the hell would I have wasted my breath explaining to her all the things she refused to hear?

  They weren’t my finest moments, parading those women in front of her, feeding into the lies Lily kept telling herself. But I was so pissed at her, I didn’t know what else to do. It was my own revenge for her breaking my heart. A very human reaction I’m still not proud of.

  She didn’t just break my heart, she ripped it to shreds and then got rid of the pieces.

  I didn’t take it well. Because even without that heart that beat for her, I was still the Aspen she knew—only, heartless.

  It didn’t help that I was stuck in the house with an equally brooding Maverick for a while. It wasn’t until Veronica came back and confessed her love, that he came out of it. And then, I was stuck watching the two of them be all happily in love.

  It was all complete bullshit, only contributing to my own despair.

  And finally, when Lily decided to once again use my past against me several years later, I snapped. I couldn’t help but explain everything to her. To lay it all out on the table. She can do with it whatever the hell she wants.

  I loved her, but I won’t continue to play a person I’m not just to keep up with her charade.

  Neither one of us have spoken. Not since we found civilization. Not when I paid a guy a hundred bucks to drive out, tow my truck, and keep it overnight to fix. Not when I booked us a room with two beds at this motel.

  Not when she decided to sit her ass on the front porch outside our room to sulk, getting even more soaked by the rain every second.

  And that’s where she is currently, sitting in an old rickety chair that barely holds her small frame.

  Having had enough of her deafening silence, I finally address her. “You need to come inside.”

  She doesn’t even turn around to face me—and part of me is thankful for it. “I’m fine.”

  “Damn it, Lily. Please just come inside. You’re going to get sick sitting out here soaking wet.” I crouch down in front of her, balancing on the balls of my feet.

  She barely looks at me from the corner of her eye. Her voice is monotone as she says, “I don’t care. I can’t be near you right now. Everything was a lie.”

  I sigh, trying to duck further to get her to look at me. “Well, you should care. Stop thinking about whatever is going through that hard head of yours. Forget I even said anything. Can you just come inside? Please?”

  When her distant eyes finally look at me, she says, “How can I forget that?”

  I can’t help but wince. My fingers brush against her cold lips. “Jesus Christ, Lily. Your lips are purple. If you don’t get up now, I’m going to throw you over my shoulder.”

  All she does is shrug, so I’m left with no choice but to follow through. She bobs up and down to the rhythm of my footsteps as I take her inside.

  Once I set her on the bed furthest from the door, I take a step ba
ck. It’s then that I catch her body shivering, most likely from the wet clothing she still has on. I go digging into her bag I grabbed from the car, rifling through until I find a shirt and a pair of pants. “Change into these,” I instruct, placing them next to her on the bed.

  Her gaze absently follows my motions, her face still void of any emotion.

  Did I fucking break her?

  I snap my fingers in front of her face, something she used to do that annoyed the hell out of me. “Lily, I’m going to step into the bathroom so you can change privately, okay?”

  She doesn’t give me any type of response, so all I can do is hope she heard me and retreat to the bathroom, grabbing my bag on the way in to change my own clothes.

  I put on the first pair of sweatpants I find, throwing on a dry T-shirt as well. I hang my wet clothes over the shower rod, hoping they’ll dry overnight, and then I check my phone for any missed texts. Looking at it, I find I have six from Veronica, one from Maverick, and one from Selma. I make a mental note to respond to them all later, my mind too preoccupied on a shivering Lily in the other room.

  As I walk back in, I can’t hide my frustration when I realize she hasn’t changed. Without words, I slowly approach her. I gently lift her shaking arms, holding them still over her head. Without giving her any verbal warning, my fingers peel the wet shirt off her before I throw it in the direction of the bathroom, hearing the wet slap of the fabric against the linoleum a moment later.

  Looking back at her, I’m met with a simple sports bra. It’s wet as hell, droplets falling down her midriff.

  Air hisses through my teeth. “Okay, Lil. We have to take this off too. It’s soaked. Either you take it off, or I will, but let’s figure it out sooner than later because you’re still shaking like a leaf.” I look at the ceiling, avoiding her exposed skin.

  She finally looks at me and whispers, “Oh, just take it off. Nothing you haven’t seen before.”

  Well, at least there’s a little bit of spunk left in her.

  I peel the bra off quickly, staring at the hideous mural behind her to avoid looking at her bare breasts. I trail my fingers along the bed until I’m met with the fabric of the shirt I’d snagged from her bag for her. In one swift movement, I pull it over her head, directing her arms through each of the holes.

  Next, I grab her by the elbows and lift her off the bed. My fingers dance up her thigh until I feel the top of her jeans shorts to grab. I peel them off her slowly, kneeling in front of her as she steps out of them. Grabbing the pair of leggings from the top of the bed, I hold them open for her at her feet. Her small hands rest on my shoulders as she steadies herself, stepping into the pants right after.

  “Why are you being nice to me right now?” she asks quietly, looking toward the bathroom.

  I pull the pants up her legs until the waistband rests around her hips. “Why wouldn’t I?”

  She falls back onto the bed, pulling her knees to her chest. “I don’t know. You just accused me of breaking your heart.”

  I lift from the ground, standing in front of her. “Is it an accusation if it actually happened?”

  Lily rolls her eyes, crawling up the bed and then climbing underneath the covers.

  My hand absentmindedly finds my hair, brushing through the long strands at the top. “We both fucked up back then, Lily. I lost my cool out in the rain. I’m just tired of you thinking I’m somebody I’m not. And I’m tired of pretending I didn’t love you and that you didn’t hurt me.”

  She pulls the comforter up to her face, resting her hands underneath her cheek, while still managing to keep her stare on mine. “We hurt each other a lot. You broke my heart too, Aspen.” Her words slice right through me, forming a pit in my stomach and nauseating me.

  Thunder cracks in the distance. I close my eyes for a moment, willing the pain away from her words.

  As Lily lies in the bed alone, I go through her wet clothing. I hang each piece over the shower curtain rod, making sure the drips are landing in the water-stained bathtub. Stepping in front of the sink, I turn the water on and splash it on my face. I allow myself a deep, calming breath.

  My plan is going to shit, but I’m determined to get things back on track. That plan now involves getting Lily back to her normal spirits. Not this shell of a woman breaking apart in the next room.

  Minutes go by before I decide what to do. The mattress dips as I crawl into bed next to Lily. There’s a bed a few feet away from us that I can sleep in, but I can’t fight this urge to hold her in my arms. Something has changed between us. We’ve laid out the hurt we’ve caused each other. There’s no more pretending—for either of us.

  She doesn’t say anything as I climb into bed beside her. No, she surprises me when she lifts the blanket, allowing me to burrow deeper into the warmth. My fingers come up to pull her lip from between her teeth. Lily leans into my hand, so I leave it there, refusing to miss the rare chance to touch her.

  I give her a smile, though it feels forlorn. “They’re not as purple anymore.”

  She nods while she nestles in.

  The only sounds in the room are our breathing and the rain pelting against the roof. Our legs tangle together underneath the covers, and I hesitantly pull her to my chest. Stroking her hair, I say, “I wouldn’t have said anything if I knew you’d react like this. Please, Lil, just tell me you’re okay. What can I do?”

  My abs flex when she slides her cold hand underneath my T-shirt. She rests her palm against my chest, right next to the spot her head is resting. “I’m sorry I hurt you.”

  I can’t form a response at first. All I do is stroke her hair, thinking of what I could possibly say to that. “I’m sorry, too.”

  “Would you go back and change things, if you could?” she asks, tentatively.

  “Yeah, Lily. I think I would.”

  The sob rips out of her almost immediately. My arms tighten around her as her body shakes again, this time with grief. Tears drench the spots underneath her eyes, but I don’t move to wipe them away.

  I try to ease her pain a different way, whispering words of encouragement in her ear while pulling her closer.

  “We were just kids back then.”

  “We can’t change the past, but we can change the future.”

  “Hearts have to break at some point, right? I’m happy mine was broken by you.”

  My fingers play with her wet and knotted hair while she remains quiet. I twist the dark strands around my fingers over and over until her body stops shaking and eventually, she falls asleep against my chest.

  Despite all the pain we’ve caused each other, even the pain we dished out to each other today, I fall asleep happy.

  Because the girl I first fell in love with—the girl I’m still in love with—falls asleep in my arms.

  I wish tomorrow would never come. I wish I could live in this moment forever.

  I’m too afraid of what tomorrow will bring.

  One thing is for sure: I don’t think it’ll bring me her.

  And that’s a fucking tragedy in itself.

  33

  Lily

  Present

  Waking up the next morning in Aspen’s arms feels right—too right.

  I open my eyes to find him staring at me, something I remember him doing when we were in college.

  “Took you long enough,” he lazily drawls, his fingers pushing the hair out of my eyes.

  I pull away from his touch. Rousing next to him, feeling him touch me, hearing that sexy morning rasp of his…it’s overwhelming. Throwing the covers back, I hightail it out of bed. I pace in front of it, trying to think of the words to explain the way I’m feeling. “Look, whatever last night was, it just…” I pause, my hands finding my waist as I think. “It just was a lot. And I’m trying to like, process everything going on in my head.”

  Aspen pushes himself up, his shoulders bumping against the headboard.

  It doesn’t fucking help that he looks like sex on a stick in the morning.

 
I mean, is this for fucking real?

  Does he have to wake up looking like he just walked the runway?

  Strands of his hair stick up, almost perfectly disheveled. The stubble that has grown on his cheeks overnight makes me remember the times I felt it between my legs. I look away from him, focusing my eyes just above his shoulder at some sort of abstract painting Veronica would probably love.

  “Look, if I said something last night that hurt you, I’m sorry. It wasn’t my intention,” he says.

  A sad excuse of a laugh escapes me. “I think that’s the problem here, Aspen. Everything you’ve been doing has hurt me, and I don’t know why.” My hands fly in every direction as I lay out all my feelings. “Ignoring me for years? Hurt me. Parading beautiful women in front of me daily? Wrecked me. Hating me? Still fucking hurt me. Confessing you loved me but were too much of a coward to admit it? Damn if that didn’t hurt me the most.”

  I walk closer to him, my big toe getting stubbed on the corner of the metal frame of the hotel bed. During my rant, he’s gotten out of bed and is now standing between both beds, bringing us chest to chest.

  “I’m so incredibly mad at you that it physically hurts. I’m mad I didn’t realize you had feelings for me, but I’m even more mad at myself that, for some stupid reason, I don’t want those feelings to go away.” I shove on his broad chest and he lets me, even though I can see the frustration building in his eyes. “You’ve made me rethink all the promises I made to myself to never let you in again.” Another shove.

  At this point, I’ve started crying so hard I can taste the saltiness of my own tears. “You have me questioning every single thing, and it hurts—bad. And now you’re telling me you were in love with me, even while you had women coming out of your bedroom like you had a fucking revolving door? You’re lying. Stop hurting me, Aspen. I loved you, okay? I loved you even though every single part of me knew I shouldn’t. I fell in love with you and would’ve given you everything I could fucking give to somebody else, but to me, it felt like you threw it away. That you didn’t want anything I could give you. So stop lying, just stop. What you did to me wasn’t freaking love.” I give him one final shove, watching his resolve break shortly after.