“Okay, but what does any of this have to do with me, except being witness to the throngs of women vying for your attention?”

Chugging my beer for liquid courage, I smiled as I finished and set the bottle on the coffee table.

“I am so glad you asked. In return for helping me, I will help you get the guy of your dreams. All by agreeing to fake date me. It will keep the girls off my back, hopefully, and I’ll teach you how to talk to men and flirt. It’s a win-win.”

With an unladylike snort, Aspen lifted her beer to her lips and took a healthy gulp. Her eyes were trained on the opposing wall of photographs, and I couldn’t get a read on what she was thinking.

Either she was going to laugh in my face, or she was going to laugh in acceptance. Regardless, I was waiting to hear the chime of her melodic giggle.

“What?” she squeaked and then cleared her throat. “What would all of this entail?”

Her question gave me pause, and I leaned forward, rubbing one finger across my bottom lip as I pondered my answer.

“Honestly, I haven’t thought it out that far. I would think a couple of dates in town with some posts on social media. Maybe seen around shopping or at the market. That’s still a thing, right? The Saturday farmer’s market?”

“Yeah,” she whispered as she tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “What… um…. I mean, how would you teach me?”

“Well, during these dates, we can use them as classes. I’ll teach you how to talk to a guy, what to wear, things like that. At the end, we can stage a breakup, and you can pursue the suit.”

“Hm….”

Reaching out, I grabbed her knee farthest from me and used it to twist her body to face mine. I took a moment to appreciate the feel of her soft skin beneath my fingers. “What’s the hesitation? We both get something out of it.”

“First, I’m trying to figure out if you’re really serious about this. Not only am I unsure that anyone in town will buy this charade, but I am a far cry from the women you’ve dated. Owen, I am the opposite of those supermodels. I’m just… me.”

Before I had a chance to argue, Aspen continued. “And secondly, I feel like I’m getting the better side of the deal.”

“I promise you, you’re not. As long as my ex believes I’ve moved on, then the entire scheme is working. And leave the convincing everyone part up to me. I’ll lay it on as thick as I need to.”

“There is one more problem you haven’t considered,” she said, leaning closer to me with dilated eyes from the dim lamplight.

“Yeah, what’s that?” The huskiness of my voice reached my own ears, and it was a sound I was unfamiliar with.

“I don’t have the time.”

Her gaze penetrated something inside me, and I found myself leaning closer to Aspen until our faces were only a few inches apart.

“Here’s the thing about time, cricket. It’s always fleeting. And I understand the dedication to your family’s farm. I’m just as committed to my team, but you are more than the life you’ve been handed.”

“I don’t know how to be anything else.”

“Then let me teach you. When we make this agreement, you can be whoever you want. And when I go back to training in five months, you can decide which cricket you want to be.”

Our talk had taken on a serious note, and I threw out her nickname to get the reaction I was hoping for. Otherwise, I was likely to start our lessons sooner rather than later, because I wanted nothing more than to seal my mouth against hers.

Of course, I’d have to be careful. In the future, she’d be likely to hold a razorblade in her mouth to slice off my tongue.

But thankfully, Aspen leaned away from me with a sneer.

“I really hate when you call me that.”

“I know, but I enjoy riling you up, so….”

As she stood from the small love seat, I followed her movements, grabbing her now empty bottle along the way.

“Can I think about it? Maybe give you an answer in the morning?”

“Sure.”

I held up the bottles, a silently question for the location of the trash can, and she pointed me toward the cabinet under her sink. Spinning around, I leaned my body against the countertop. The entire thing shifted, and I worried I’d break the Formica.

“I guess I’ll be heading out.”

Rolling her eyes, Aspen moved toward a small chest and pulled out some blankets and a pillow. “You can stay here. I’ll take the couch, and you can have the bed.”

“Absolutely not.” Eyeing the two-person loveseat, I knew even tiny Aspen was too tall to sleep comfortably on it. We’d both be uncomfortable. “You take the bed. I’ll make a pallet on the floor. So long as you don’t kill me in my sleep.”

I could see she wanted to argue, but she relented and placed the blankets and pillow on the couch. “Okay, though I want it to go on record that I at least attempted to be civil and offered you the bed, whenever your trainer tells you that you’ve screwed up your back.”

Little did she know sleeping on the floor wasn’t nearly as bad as sleeping on the wet ground outside your family home in the hopes of avoiding your father. At least here, in her home, I’d be warm.

People tended to think my life was amazing, but they had no idea what I saw behind my eyelids every night when I fell asleep.

Aspen slipped into the small bathroom while I took the stack of blankets and laid them on the rug in the middle of the room. Shoving the coffee table against the wall, I sorted the pallet until I had a makeshift bed set up.

“Here,” Aspen said, reappearing with a freshly cleaned face and an oversized shirt covering her body. In her hands, she held a mass of material. “It’s a pair of basketball shorts and a T-shirt of Andrew’s. You’re around the same size.”

“Thanks.” Reaching behind my neck, I fisted my shirt and tugged it over my head. I was proud of the dips and planes of my defined muscles. The hard work I put in over the years paid off as I watched Aspen’s eyes widen in shock. It made it all the more satisfying.

“I’ll take these,” I said as I grabbed the change of clothes and sauntered past Aspen toward the bathroom. Her mouth hung open as I closed the door behind me.

On the counter, she thoughtfully left a spare toothbrush. I prayed our truce remained intact as I brushed my teeth. I didn’t need a reenactment of sixth grade, when she added Methylene Blue to my drink and left me with Smurf-colored teeth for a week.

I quickly changed out of my shorts and replaced them with the loungewear Aspen provided. By the time I made it back out to the small living space, she was nowhere to be found. There was a lamp on the end table, illuminating the room just enough for me to keep from bumping into things in the unfamiliar space.

Situating myself on the pallet, I reached up and switched off the lamp, casting the room in utter darkness except for a dim light coming from the upstairs loft area where Aspen slept.

“Goodnight, Aspen,” I called out as I turned onto my side, my eyes adjusting to the darkness and focusing on the pictures across the way.

“Goodnight, Owen,” she hollered in return. “Goodnight, Fred.”

That gave me pause, and I found myself asking, “Who is Fred?”

“The little mouse that scurries around the house. Don’t worry; he’s harmless.”

Was I scared of a tiny mouse? No. But did the thought of sharing my bed with a rodent keep me up half the night? Absolutely.

Chapter Seven – Aspen