Page 97 of Wildest Forever

“Where is he?” she asks me, her eyes drifting towards the kitchen as I step aside and let her in.

“Shower,” I mutter, nodding towards the stairs and I hear the floorboards creak. “But no doubt he will be down in the next...” and I stop talking when I see his feet appear as he walks down the stairs.

He pauses on the middle step, confusion lacing his handsome face.

Hair still damp and pushed away from his face, stubble a little more prominent and a light moustache that he seems to be growing. His eyes bounce between me and Aspen, and I know I overstepped the mark. My eyes are glued to him, and I know he can tell by my expression that this is my doing. His hand slips in the front of his jeans, his baggy white tee tucked into the waistband slightly.

“I thought I would just pop in...” Aspen begins and her eyes dart to me before they're on her brother-in-law.

“Why?” his voice is gravelly and my heart races a little faster in my chest.

“Because after today, I thought you could use a friend... I know what you're like Pace, I know you'll pull away and push against anyone that tries to get close,” her eyes are on me again, but I bat them to the floor where I focus on my bare feet.

I swallow down the lump before turning my back on both of them and head back into the kitchen.

“I'm not pulling away, I just don't want to talk about it,” I hear how defensive his tone is when he is talking to her, but she doesn't take any shit from him.

I steal a look over my shoulder as he steps in front of her, his eyes pinned to only hers and she knows she has him right where she needs him. She lifts his arm and tucks herself underneath it as she leads him away and my heart shatters inside my chest.

Why is this bothering me so much?

Placing the potatoes on the baking tray I open the stove door and place them above the chicken.

Closing it, I step towards the archway in the kitchen and loiter as I listen to the calming and quiet voice of Aspen as she speaks.

“This is not your fault; you know that right?” she says and I edge a little closer.

“I know, but I am sick of people dying on my watch,” he admits, and I can hear the sadness in his voice.

“Pacey, this is not on you, he didn't die on just your watch, he also died on Riggs, Tripp’s, Austin’s and Marty's...” she trails off.

“It shouldn't have happened; he wasn't a bad guy... sure we had our assumptions but...” and I hear the crack in his voice.

Who has died?

“I know...” she pauses, and I creep into the hallway and stand behind the door frame. She wraps her arms around his shoulders, and he rests his head on her. “But it's happened, and now you and your brothers need to work together to find out who killed him, find out why they killed him.”

“I haven't even told Sunny yet, not that they were a thing as such but...” he pauses and lifts his red rimmed eyes to Aspen.

“I know,” she gives him a soft nod, her eyes lowering to him and he looks at her in a way he has never looked at me.

My stomach twists and I find myself gasping for air as my lungs burn.

“What's Riggs said about it all?” she asks and gently pushes him away from her, he allows her to as he sits a little further back but still leaning towards her.

“He is as bummed as me. I thought we were going to find another attempt of getting down into the mine, yet we found Conrad's battered body lying there instead.”

Nausea rips through me and I find myself swallowing, trying to coat the dryness that has suddenly laced my throat.

“Unfortunately this was always going to happen, greed does terrible things to people when they can't get what they want...” she trails off and places her hand on his knee and I watch as he gives her a small smile.

“You're a good man Pacey Rivera, everyone can see it.”

He bobs his head as he tears his eyes away from her and focuses them down.

“Hey,” she coaxes him, “look at me,” and he does, he listens to her command. “You are Pacey, you are a good man, you all are,” she smiles a little wider at him and he gives her a half shrug of his shoulder. “Despite what people may say or think about you Rivera boys,” she laughs softly before pushing from the sofa and I recoil back, tip toeing into the kitchen.

“Thanks kid,” Pacey says, voice low, wrapped in gravel.

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