Chapter Six: Owen

Walking out of the bar, I felt like a zoo animal, everyone's eyes on us as they tried to catch a glimpse of something amazing. The spectacle was that Aspen and I were walking together. Something had possessed me to wrap my arm around her narrow shoulders and pull her closer. Maybe, deep inside, I wanted to see how shocked I could leave everyone.

Should I have been worried about pictures? Definitely. But with her, I didn't care. In the end, all of it would play into the ploy I was going to present her.

As we exited, I caught a quick peek of Aspen's face in the glass of the door. Her reflection showed a slight smile.

Once we escaped into the darkness of night, which was illuminated by twinkling lights strung across the road and sidewalk of downtown Ashfield, Aspen slipped out from under my arm.

An apology for the gesture sat at the edge of my lips, but I couldn't find it in myself to start the sentence. Instead, I followed her to her beat-up sedan. My own car was parked close by.

She spun on her heels and faced me, the sound of the loose gravel crunching surrounding us. "How intoxicated are you right now?"

Catching me off guard, I paused. "What?"

"How much have you had to drink?"

"I couple beers and a shot. Why?"

"Get in." Aspen gestured to her small car, and I sneered at the thought of contorting my body into the compact vehicle.

"Look, cricket—" I began, but she immediately cut me off as she added, "Owen, I will not let you drive if you've had more than two drinks. Got it?"

She even stomped her cute little foot, and I had to hold back my laughter.

"Look," I started, holding my hands up in surrender. "I understand. I'm just saying I don't think I'll fit in your car. Maybe we can take mine. I'll make sure you get home."

"Oh." Aspen glanced down at her car and then up at me, her eyes wide and sparkling from the lights. "You're probably right."

Chuckling, I asked her to repeat what she said, and she responded with a strangely powerful shove before walking over to my vehicle. By the time I arrived, her hand was outstretched for the keys, but she hesitated before getting inside.

"You didn't do anything to the car, did you? Like, cut the brake line or something like that?"

"Why would I do that, cricket?"

"So I'm framed for your murder. The ultimate prank."

"Wow, you are paranoid. Just get in the car and find a place for us to talk."

"I don't fully trust you."

"Well, I'm trusting you to drive me somewhere safely…"

I let my confession linger, opening the door for her, and I smiled as she nodded subtly and slunk down into the driver seat. After shutting her inside, I moved around the car and got into the passenger seat. Without a word, she turned on the car and pulled us out onto Main Street. Soon, we were headed toward a path I was very familiar with.

As if she could read my mind, Aspen informed me that we were going to Sunny Book Farms.

"You're welcome to stay at the bed-and-breakfast with your mom, if you'd like, but I figured you could stay at one of the ranch houses. We have a few vacant."

"Thanks, that's really nice of you."

"Don't get too excited. It's not long-term, but I may be able to get a place for you while your home. I just need to ask my sister Rory."

"You don't have to do any of this, Aspen."

"I know."

It was refreshing that she didn't offer an explanation or use it as a one-up on me. Maybe she felt a bit bad about everything that transpired earlier today with my mother and my childhood home, but none of that was her fault.

"I owe you."

Chuckling, she added, "You definitely don't." There was a pregnant pause before she said, "So…," then glanced over at me. Our eyes locked, and we both burst out in laughter. "Tell me about baseball."

"You really want to talk about that?" I asked with a snicker.

"I know nothing about what you do. I don't follow sports. But you're a shortstop, right? I think I remember that from high school."

"Yeah. I play for the Coyotes. I just signed another five-year contract."

"Word about that got around town. A lot of people are proud of you."

"What about you?"

"What about me?" she asked as we took the ninety-degree blind turn in the road that I always hated. "I told you everything about me. I'm a farm girl, remember?"

"You never wanted to do anything else?"

"I didn't really have a choice, Owen. Some of us aren't talented enough to do more than what we're handed."

Turning in my seat, I leaned toward the center console. In the confined space, her clean scent filled my lungs. "If you could do anything, money was no object, what would you do?"

"Why do you want to know?" she asked incredulously.

"Humor me."

She puffed out a breath, before replying, "Travel."

Her answer surprised me, and I made it known in my response.

"I've always wanted to see the world. Not just the tourist sites, I want to explore everything. Owen, I've never been out of this area on my own. It's only ever been family trips or something like that. But, yeah," she said, as if catching herself exposing more than she meant to, as we turned onto a dirt path off the main road. "I'd want to travel."

"You should."

Her shoulders moved upward toward her ears before falling back down.

We didn't speak any more on the ride, but I contemplated the kind of life Aspen lived. She was the quintessential good girl. She didn't go causing trouble, unless it involved terrorizing me in school, but even then, she was never malicious. Aspen seemed to think the farm was her duty, her contribution to the family. I almost felt bad for her situation, but right now, it was going to work in my favor.

She pulled the car around to a few row homes on the Sunny Brook Farms property. I didn't recall them being there from when I'd sneak onto their land, but these were off the beaten path.

"How far away are we from the main house?" I asked as she turned off the car and exited. The darkness of the space was eerie. I hadn't been around this utter and complete blackness in years, and it was jarring as I stepped out of the vehicle. Not a single light was on in the house, but Aspen seemed like she knew exactly where she was headed.

"It's right down the hill. We're a lot closer than you think."

"Where are we exactly?" I asked, suddenly afraid I walked into a horror film and was about to be the victim.

As if sensing my emerging fear, Aspen took a step closer to me and whispered, "Scared?"

"No," I lied as my voice shook.

Then, without a sound, all the lights around the house illuminated, including a few inside. My heart jumped into my throat.

"For fuck's sake." Leaning over, I rested one hand on my pounding heart and another on my knee as Aspen's laughter swirled around me.

"There's a motion sensor on the outside floodlights, and a timer inside for the living room lamps. I'm normally asleep by now."

"And they just happened to go off at the same time?"

"As luck would have it," she said through a giggle as she stepped onto the tiny porch. "Come on, scaredy cat."

My steps were slow as I made my way to the front door, but I hesitated at the threshold. Reality hit that I was stepping into Aspen's space, a place I imagined numerous times as a teen. Most of the boys in school did, even though she was apparently clueless of their admiration. But what I imagined was nothing like what greeted me on the other side.

Shutting the door behind me, I glanced to the right, where there was a small makeshift kitchen with a sink, two lower cabinets, some shelves, and a hotpot. Across from me was a living space that I assumed also served as a bedroom. The entire thing was no larger than some New York City apartments.

But even in the limited space, I could see that Aspen had made it her own. It was light and airy with the longest wall decorated in a dozen or so pictures. The images depicted famous cities, all in black-and-white prints, with the name of the location written in bold lettering below.

Anyone who walked into the space would immediately guess that Aspen was well-traveled. It was such a shame that reality was the opposite.

"Welcome to my humble abode."

I watched as she toed off her boots, then slinked farther into the room, tossing her bag onto the two-person table in the corner.

"I like it," I replied genuinely. For all it lacked in space, I could tell the place was a home. Which was a far cry from the mansion I owned in Los Angeles.

"It's small. And I have to go to the main house for a regular meal. The other row homes have a stove and microwave. I chose this one because…"

She was rambling, and it was adorable. Casually, I walked over and reached out to touch her bare arm. The gasp that left her lips was unexpected but not unwelcome.

"There's… uh… a bedroom in the loft. I don't know why I told you that." She shook her head, the soft curls of her hair stroking the back of my hand. "Can I get you a water, soda, or beer?"

"A beer, if you don't mind."

Aspen's hips swayed as she walked, and unlike most of the women I ran into tonight, her movements were completely natural and unforced. She had a natural sex appeal that was untapped. As she leaned into the small fridge, I found myself staring at her round backside, imagining what it would look like beneath those denim shorts.

I darted my eyes over to the couch as she stood up straight with the beers in hand, to keep from being caught checking out her ass.

"Have a seat. Now, what did you want to talk about?"

The couch dipped as she sat beside me, a little farther than I was used to people wanting to be to me, but I couldn't expect her to treat me like her new best friend overnight. Well, actually, I needed her to do more.

"I was thinking about both of our… predicaments."

One of her naturally arched eyebrows cocked as her lips pursed.

"Look, my ex won't stop calling. Every message is more desperate than the last. Her cheating on me made me realize I never really loved her. I think it was the thought of being married to her is what drove me, and probably her too. But I need her to realize that I'm not devastated, nor do I want her back.

"And I also have the issue of women throwing themselves at me now that I'm single."

She grunted, and I thought about how cocky that must have sounded.

"Aspen, you saw how the women were tonight. That was over the course of an hour. I even got propositioned by the flight attendant on the plane home. Don't get me wrong; I'm not mad about it. But I need to focus on baseball while I'm here. Not sidestepping every woman who want to give me her number."

"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.