Present
Two days later, we’ve reached the day of the grand opening for Connor’s Ocean. Maverick, Veronica, Aspen and I have kept busy since the engagement party, getting last minute details ready for the event. It’s kept all of us busy, meaning Aspen and I haven’t had much time to talk about what happened between us at the engagement party. We’ve both been cordial, but luckily, we haven’t had a spare moment to be anything but. Between us preparing for the opening and him spending time at his house, there hasn’t been time for any possible nonsense.
But now, Veronica and Maverick are both at the event space making sure everything is perfect. Veronica was adamant that they didn’t need any last minute help today, flying out of the house before I could offer to go help however I could.
So now, I’m left alone in an empty house, with time to dwell on the conversation Aspen and I had the other night. He’s been at his house for the better part of the morning, and as I sit at the kitchen counter snacking on potato chips, I’m shocked to find a missed text from him.
Aspen: Come to my house? There’s something I want to show you. Please.
My heart catapults inside my chest. Before I can second guess what I’m doing, my legs are taking me across the lawn, on the way to him.
When I stop in front of his house, I’m taken aback by the beauty. It’s absolutely breathtaking. The home is the same white as my brother’s, but where they had a white porch and white columns, the wood of this porch is black, the shutters and columns the same color. On the left side of the front door hangs a brand new porch swing. It slowly moves with a gust of wind.
It reminds me of the porch swing at Ed and Helen’s. The one I loved so much.
The molding around the door is black as well, and it surrounds a large teal front door. I’m still stopped on the sidewalk when Aspen strolls out the front door, wearing a pair of khaki shorts and a faded T-shirt. I about die when I see the ball cap perched on top of his head, reminding me of the day I first met him.
I’m still staring at him when he quickly steps down the front steps, stopping directly in front of me.
“You came,” he says.
I nod, scanning his face.
“Do you want to come in?” he asks nervously, hooking a thumb over his shoulder to point at the house. “I want to show you something.”
“I’d like that,” I tell him, tucking my hands in the back pockets of my jean shorts, giving them something to do so they don’t reach out and touch him.
“Okay,” he breathes out, pausing awkwardly. “Let’s do it.”
He turns around, leading the way up the stairs. “The porch wraps all the way around the house,” he says. “Same as Maverick and Veronica’s. Mine’s a bit bigger, though.”
He pushes the front door handle down and then holds it open for me to step in. “Keep in mind the inside isn’t quite done yet, but I think you’ll be able to see my vision for it. You’re good at that kind of thing.”
I move past him to step inside.
“Make sure to keep your shoes on,” he says from behind me. “The contractors still haven’t cleaned everything up.”
I look down at my Birks, not sure how protective they’ll be, but I don’t say anything. When I step into the entryway, I stop dead in my tracks.
It’s beautiful.
There’s still a ladder in one corner, and there isn’t paint or anything like that. But Aspen is right. I can definitely see his vision.
And it’s…perfect.
Looking down, I find gorgeous restored hardwood floors. The color is a dark ash, contrasting against the white wainscoting that runs along the wall. You can see most of the first floor from the spot I stand in.
When I look around, I find what I imagine is a large dining area, the window from the front of the house letting in a perfect amount of natural light. Moving deeper into the house from the dining room, I see the bones of a giant kitchen. White cabinets have been installed, the same to be said for a giant island in the middle. And to make it even more spectacular, there’s a built-in breakfast nook overlooking the back porch and yard.
I absentmindedly run my hand over the sturdy railing to the staircase on my right. There’s a large open space with a stone fireplace, which will be the living room, I’m sure. The fireplace is massive—a piece of wood already attached to serve as a beautiful mantle.
The fireplace sits on the left wall of the living room, and the back wall is just a large wall of windows. A set of French doors separates the windows from the living room and kitchen.
There’s a hallway off the living room that must lead to the bedrooms, like Maverick and Veronica’s house does.
“What do you think?” Aspen asks quietly.
I finally look away from the house, finding his gaze already on me, and the intensity of it nearly startles me. The way he’s looking at me sends goosebumps up my bare arms. “I think it’s stunning,” I admit.
That earns me a grin. He points his head down the hallway. “Want to look at the master?”
“Lead the way.”
Aspen rubs his palms together before heading toward the hallway. When we step through the large doorway of the master, I stop once again. The space is absolutely massive. There are exposed beams across the high ceiling, and even a little nook tucked into two of the windows that would be a perfect spot to spend the mornings.
I imagine myself sitting in front of the windows, sketching out an outfit design and drinking my morning coffee.
The thought catches me off guard. I shouldn’t be imagining myself in his space, but here I am—imagining living in this house that’s his.
So why does it feel like it’s meant for me?
My eyes trail over the fireplace sitting in the master as my heartbeat picks up.
I start to panic the more I envision myself here, in this room that’s been made for Aspen. I imagine the large bed this room will house. The things that will happen on the bed. I imagine playing with a dog in the backyard and cooking dinner in that gorgeous kitchen.
Without logic or reason, I start to picture so many different scenarios of Aspen and I sharing this house. Each and every one making me question whether or not I made the right decision the other night.
If the love between us had never been real, if it couldn’t one day last, then why do I feel myself in this house?
Why can I picture myself watering the flowers on his porch, reading a book in the corner, laughing by the fireplace with him? I envision the two of us doing so many mundane tasks here. The thought is jarring, because those thoughts shouldn’t exist for something that was only a game. For something without a true foundation.
And suddenly, I come to the realization, I want to do whatever it takes to keep Aspen forever. We might not have started in the most conventional way, but that doesn’t mean we can’t start again—correctly.
“What do you think of the fireplace, Lily?” Aspen takes several steps closer to me, until he’s standing right in front of me. I don’t fight him when he grabs onto my shoulders, turning my body to fully face the fireplace. “Is this okay?” he asks under his breath, looking down to his hands resting on my shoulders.
I nod, not wanting his hands anywhere else but on me.
He keeps his hands on my shoulders, their warmth soaking through my exposed skin. One of his thumbs carelessly moves in circles.
“The fireplace is great, Aspen.” I look over my shoulder at him, finding his face closer to mine than I expected.
He catches me off guard when he slowly runs his hands down my arms. Since I have on a tank top, I can feel the callouses on his fingers scratching a path down my skin. I wonder if he can feel the goosebumps rising on my skin from his touch.
His breath tickles my ear. “You see, one night, not too long ago…” Aspen’s hands shift from my arms to my hips, “you told me that we were fire. Wild and passionate, but only for a short amount of time. You said we couldn’t burn forever, that fires eventually have to burn out.”
I suck in a breath as his hands travel underneath my top.
“Your words stuck with me, Lily. I sat in bed that night turning them over in my head. Because I thought of us as fire, too—wild, passionate, all-consuming. But we saw things differently. I didn’t see us as something bound to burn out.”
His thumb scrapes across the waistline of my shorts. “I saw us as an uncontrollable wildfire. One started from the smallest spark, but in no time, wild and raging. You know how much effort it takes to put out a wildfire? A lot. And even then, a spark could just light again, maybe burning even brighter the next time.”
He pauses. “That’s like my love for you. Maybe our love never grew, but it could. It has the potential to. Just like that spark becoming a wildfire.”
“What’s that have to do with the fireplace?” I whisper.
“Because even when you thought I was playing games with you, I wasn’t. I was making plans—for us. For our future together. In hopes that you’d want the same thing. I wanted to prove to you how much I loved you. How real this relationship had become to me. How I wanted to have a grown-up relationship with you. So grown-up that I wanted you to one day—however long it might take—move in here with me. I wanted you to look at that fireplace right there and remember my love for you. I want to keep that fire lit for you at all fucking times if you’ll let me. I don’t care that it’s hot in the south and that we’ll have to pay double for air conditioning, I want to always remind you that my love burns as bright for you as that damn fire. And that it won’t ever be put out. It’ll come back stronger and stronger. That the love is fucking real, and I want it forever.”
He pulls me flush against his body, spinning me around to face him. “I want this. I want us. I want you to know I’m in this for forever, no games, just love. So now that I’ve shown you how serious I am about this, I need to ask you one last time, Lil. Do you love me? Can you see our future as fucking clear as I can? If you don’t, I’ll respect it, but I need—”
Crushing my lips against his, I give him my answer. I throw everything I have into the kiss—apologizing with my lips, promising him the future with a slip of my tongue.
He pulls back. “Wait, so does that mean my not-too-sappy, just-sweet-enough speech worked? It took me a while to get it right, you know.”
I can’t help but smile up at him. “Yes, it worked. I love you, Aspen. I was wrong about you. About us.”
Aspen brushes his nose against mine. “I love you, too, Lil. I love you so damn much. Now kiss me again.”
We crash against each other wildly, passionately, raging.
And the kiss? It’s all-consuming.