Chapter 17

Chapter Seventeen

Aspen

Uncertainty, oh how much I hate the fuck out of you. I hate this—the wait, the lack of news. No news is good news. Anderson left on Tuesday, right after we arrived from San Jose. It's Thursday night, and he's not back yet.

"It could take a few days," he said, kissing my lips. "When I'm back we'll talk about us, Aspen."

"Are you okay?" Brynn pauses Breaking Bad , which is making me anxious. Anderson denies it, but he's been close to Scarlett's ranch. It's where drug dealers and cartels swarm, killing law enforcement without batting an eyelash. I nod. "Because you're shredding your organizer."

I look down at my lap. My hands are fidgeting with the pages, tearing them up.

Anderson: Are you asleep?

The muscles of my back relax, knowing the mission is over. Wherever he is, he's safe.

Me: No, where are you?

The doorbell rings, I jump off the couch running toward the entry and swinging the door open.

Anderson stands in front of me. He has a few bruises on his face, but his sexy grin is stamped on those full lips. "You're okay." Finally, I exhale.

He pulls me into his embrace, my feet leaving the floor for a few seconds. "I fucking missed you."

As he settles my feet back on the floor, my hands reach for his face. I stand on my tiptoes as I lower his lips to mine. "Welcome home," I murmur, kissing him deeply, letting go of the anguish and worry.

"So this is what the fuss is all about. Having someone waiting for you after a mission." Anderson's hands rest on my hips, he pushes me against the wall, his erection pressing into my waist. The kiss intensifies, the urgency increases with every second that passes. This isn't just a casual hello. At least for me it's a, "don't leave me without news for this long, the past couple of days were hell without you."

"A, I'm heading to bed," Brynn breaks the spell, bringing me back to reality.

"Good evening, Brooklyn," Anderson greets her. "I apologize for showing up this late at night."

Brynn shakes her head smiling. "On the contrary, thank you for showing up; she was driving me insane."

"Good night, my mouthy friend," I growl, glancing back at her. She gives me a "you're lost" look.

Anderson caresses my ear, running his hand along my cheek, his eyes tender, maybe even loving. "You were worried about me?"

"Friends worry about each other," I respond, lifting my trembling hand and touching the perimeter of the open cut above his left eyebrow. "We need to clean this. I might have to stitch it."

The long sleeve jacket he wears has a couple of purple marks, one on his chest and the second one on his stomach. Circles. "You got shot!"

"Brooklyn!" I panic, my voice a shrilling sound. My hands start unfastening and ripping the garment apart, but it is harder than I thought. Anderson pushes something on the top and takes it off. I pull up his t-shirt running my hand over his inked chest. There're a couple of light bruises but nothing I should tend to immediately.

"Did someone die?" Brynn calls out.

"No, I thought he was shot and…sorry," I say staring at the bruises. "Without this thing, you could've died, Anderson."

"I always use protection." He winks at me.

"We're all good, then?" Brynn comes closer looking at the bruises too. She squints and twists her lips. "I agree, without a vest this would be fatal. Make sure they drop you by my OR if the armor doesn't work."

She starts walking away, waving at me. "Have fun playing nurse, Aspen. I'm wearing your noise canceling headphones."

Her comment reminds me of college. Those times when Michael would drop by to visit me and…Tension grows in my face and my limbs. My mind replays Scarlett's news, her impassive face from that day. "Mom called. Mike. He died."

What if the next time he leaves, there's a call telling me that Anderson died? The thoughts accelerate inside my head. The fear of losing him becoming intoxicating. Who would call and say, "Aspen, it's Hawk, he died."? No, he can't die. My breathing quickens, becoming shallow. I feel lightheaded, tired. This time I recognize that I'm right on the edge of the abyss. I should retreat, push him out of the house and my life. Close the door behind him, and never let myself feel. I'm too close. And if I take a misstep, I'll fall again, smashing my head once my heart ceases to exist. It's a place I don't want to visit. The last time it took me years to come out of it.

Breathe, Aspen. Don't lose it in front of Anderson.

The anxiety is choking me. Air, I need it.

"Aspen, stay with me." Anderson's voice is urgent. "Breath, slowly."

I can barely hear myself as I gasp for oxygen. The tips of my fingers begin to tingle, my arms lose feeling, black dots obstruct my vision.

"One, two, three," he whispers close to my ear, holding my hand and slowly raising my arms over my head. "You're doing a great job. Concentrate on your breathing."

"It'd be best if you leave now." I can barely say the words, but I blurt them. "The longer you stay, the more it'll hurt when..."

"Why would I leave?" He kisses the back of my neck. "Aspen, I'm new to relationships and love. However, you can't ask me to give up what's growing between the two of us."

Damn it, he feels it too. This makes things harder, yet easier. Rip the band-aid off and let it air. The wound will close if you let it air.

"Give us a chance." He slides his hands, tracing a line from the tip of my fingers down my sides and to my waist. I arch with his touch, wanting him to continue but he stops holding me closer to him. "I refuse to give up what I'm feeling for you. Do you know how fucking great it is to know someone is waiting for you after a fucked-up day at work?"

"I'm scared of falling off the cliff," I breathe the words, sucking in his musky scent. I'm fighting the need to run away from him; fighting the need to beg for his touch. So many emotions clutching my throat, squeezing it tight along with my heart.

"Sometimes the best part of the journey is falling, gliding, and never letting it go." Anderson kisses the top of my head, my eyes, my nose, peppering my face with kisses leaving a trail of love all along it and kissing my neck. "This is right, my heart agrees and my soul demands it."

"I'm broken. My heart is shattered. It's impossible to fix it."

"We are going to collect every fragment and melt them together along with my heart. So they never fall apart," he whispers in my ear. His assurance is weaving a safety net at the bottom of the cliff. "Allow us to continue this journey. Falling in love is a different kind of adrenaline I've never experienced. You're opening my eyes, injecting hope and teaching me how to love."

My mind races with the possibilities, a whiplash of reservations erase them at once. "What if it doesn't work?"

He nuzzles my neck. "I like long-term challenges. We have a lifetime to fall in love over and over."

My chest tightness. I grip his waist needing his support. Anderson's strong arms encase me, warming my soul and allowing me to feel safe. This is either the eye of the storm, or the end of the hurricane. Soon I'll know if I must pick up the debris or search for a bigger bunker for shelter.

"I'm not planning on leaving you, Aspen," he whispers nibbling my ear. "Unless you want me to go." His lips gently brush mine. "Can I stay with you tonight?"

"Please," I exhale the word, staring at his forest green eyes. "After I clean the wound."

"Whatever you say, Doc." His shoulders settle, his smirk draws me to him. I fight the urge to kiss him again, and hold his hand taking him to the bathroom where I can work my magic.