Page 21 of Rebellious

“Mhmm.”

“And he wondered if I told Dad yet.”

The SUV slows as she turns into the restaurant. “He did, but what I don’t understand is why? Why haven’t you told us you were considering other options? Especially your father. He thinks you’re headed to Boston at the end of summer.” Her brows raise. “Areyouscared of your dad?”

I scoff. “No.”

“Then why haven’t you told him?”

I gaze out the window, watching as my family files into the lot and parks. Automatically, I search for Bennett.

“Aspen?”

“I don’t know.” I scrub my hands down my face before I realize I have makeup on, and I probably just made myself look like a feral trash panda. I pull down the visor and flip open the mirror. Fortunately, the makeup Vee applied stayed put—the perks of rooming with a makeup artist.

Mom shifts in her seat, leaning over and closing the mirror. She takes my hand in hers and forces me to face her. “Tell me, Angel,” she coaxes. “What’s going on in that beautiful little head of yours?”

Do I care that she’s talking to me like a baby? Absolutely not. Because as soon as she cocks her head to the side, waiting for my answer, I throw my arms around her neck and let the unshed tears fall.

She holds me there, tight to her chest, and lets me cry into her shoulder. “Sometimes,” she says, swaying us side to side, “change is scary, but that doesn’t mean it’s wrong.”

I dry my tears on her pretty top. “I don’t know what you’re trying to say,” I mumble.

She chuckles and pats me on the back, pushing me away so I can look at her. “You can’t force him to change, Aspen.”

I know she’s talking about Bennett.

“I don’t want him to change,” I admit, a rogue tear escaping. “I love him exactly as he is, but—”

She tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. “You need to move on, baby.”

I shake my head. “I just need more time.”

“You’ve had time, sweetheart. A whole twenty years’ worth.”

A sob catches in my throat. The truth is agony.

“Come here,” she says, pulling me back into her arms. “I’m not saying this to be mean. But I’ve been there; I’ve been in your shoes.”

I highly doubt it.

“And what I’ve learned is every woman should find herself first.” She pushes me back again and taps her finger to my nose. “Who is Aspen Von Bremen without Bennett Jameson?”

I just stare at her face, listening to the ridiculous words coming out of her mouth.

“Is she a sports agent like her uncle Thad? Or is she going to allow her father to influence her into taking a Boston job she doesn’t want—being eye-candy for a camera where no man will respect her talent for knowing baseball stats better than they do?”

My mom doesn’t pull any punches. “Or does Aspen Von Bremen fill out the LLC paperwork and open her own agency like she secretly wants to?”

I narrow my eyes. “I knew you opened my mail.”

She laughs. “It was an accident—Aspen, Anniston, it all looks the same.”

She is so full of shit.

“The problem is, Aspen, everything you’re doing is for someone else.” She narrows her gaze on me. “If you take the Boston job, you’ll make your father happy. If you work for Thad…” she arches her brows, “I’m guessing, his downtown office that’s fifteen minutes from campus makes Bennett happy.”

My mom, the no bullshitter…

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