Page 27 of Blind Date with a #Doctor
I freeze.
My entire body locks up. Those words hit like a hammer to the chest. They shouldn’t matter this much, but they do. If it’s true, then I just screwed up the best thing in my life.
I swallow hard. “She never said that.”
Sally rolls her eyes. “Men. Always needing things spelled out.”
Marie laughs. “Seriously. Do you think Aspen is the kind of woman who would introduce a man to her coworkers at a fancy party if she wasn’t serious?”
I shift in my seat, because she has a point.
Nan arches a brow. “Did you even ask her how she felt about Ryan? Or did you just assume you knew the answer?”
I open my mouth. Then close it. Because no, I didn’t ask. I just let the doubt eat me alive. I let my past insecurities dictate my future.
I might have pushed Aspen away because of my own damn fears.
Sally tilts her head. “Let me ask you something, Carter. If Ryan wasn’t in the picture, would you still be acting like this?”
I don’t even hesitate. “No.”
Nan smirks. “Then you know what you need to do.”
Before I know it, we have a plan. Nan, Sally, and Marie are a terrifying force of nature, hatching strategies like they’re staging a military operation. I have my marching orders. I know what I have to say. And most importantly? I know I have to fix this before it’s too late.
Aspen deserves better. She deserves to know exactly where I stand and to hear the words I’ve been too scared to say. I’m done letting my doubts ruin something this good.
I take a deep breath, stand up from the table, and thank the women who just saved my ass. And then? I go after my girl.
Chapter Sixteen
Aspen
I should have known Nan was up to something.
The second I walked into the bookstore, I could feel a buzz of anticipation, see the way Nan, Sally, and Marie exchanged smug glances, and the way Nan locked the door behind me before I even made it three steps inside.
I’m standing in the middle of the darkened store, after hours, facing Carter Reed. The man who’s been pulling away from me all week. The man I haven’t been able to stop thinking about. The man I’m in love with.
His jaw is tight, his hands resting on his hips, his expression unreadable.
The ache in my chest that hasn’t gone away since he left me standing in my doorway Saturday night intensifies.
Carter exhales.
“Guess we’re locked in,” he mutters, dragging a hand through his hair.
I cross my arms. “Guess so.”
He looks at me then—really looks at me. And just like that, all the anger, all the frustration, all the goddamn longing I’ve been holding back this week—snaps.
I shake my head, biting back the lump in my throat. “What the hell, Carter?” My voice wavers, but I don’t care. “You justshut me out? Barely text me back? Act like we weren’t spending every night together?”
His throat bobs. “Aspen—”
“No.” I step forward, fire burning through my veins. “You don’t get to do this. You don’t get to make me feel like I imagined everything between us. I didn’t. I refuse to stand here and let you pretend I did.”
His eyes darken. “I never said you imagined it.”
