9. Aspen

Nine

Aspen

I sat with my wine and a book, indulging in a little self-care. Often, I tried to engage in activities that brought me happiness and joy so that when things were stressful, I had something to fall back on. It was all about maintenance, trying my best to keep steady mentally in order to handle whatever life threw at me. I learned this idea from my therapist, who helped get me through the negative self-talk and high standards. Body image was, and sometimes still is, a topic I struggled with. I worked on seeing myself how others saw me for a long time. It impacted meeting people or getting out into the dating world. Most times, it was hard to be confident enough to put myself out there. My therapist helped me see and understand that perception and reality aren’t always on the same page. When life gets stressful or I feel overwhelmed, I learned to incorporate things in my life to manage the lows. Reading has been an escape since I was a little girl. I could be whoever I wanted to be. Through structure and routines, I found a way to manage.

Flipping to the next page, I took a long sip of my wine. Boone and I had closed up the stand again tonight. After we finished, he went to his cabin to shower while I curled up outside in my comfy clothes. I was secretly waiting for him to come over. I didn’t want to sound desperate, but he was taking longer than I thought.

Trying to distract myself, I read until the sound of his front door pulled me away. I glanced up and saw Boone walking over towards me. He wore his pajama pants and a plain black t-shirt. On his feet were slippers, not boots.

“What’s up, Darling?” he asked, sitting next to me with a beer in his hand. Boone’s hair was still wet from his shower, the brown tapered mullet suited him so well. The pieces on his neck curled slightly which made my insides tingly. The fact this man does nothing and I still get turned on was a problem.

I closed my book and placed it on the ground,.“Nothing much since I last saw you. Just reading, the usual.”

Boone tipped his can towards me and nodded. “I wouldn’t have expected anything less.”

That was either a compliment or he was poking fun at me, maybe even both?

“I have a question which will determine the status of our friendship,” he continued.

“Oh boy.” I muttered, adjusting my body so I was facing him. My one leg was bent underneath me and the other hung off the edge of the swing. “Hit me, Cowboy.”

Boone smirked, “I like when you call me that.”My cheeks got a little warm. “I need to know, how do you feel about cold pizza?”

“Um, pardon?” I blinked at him owlishly.

“Did I stutter?” He asked in a playful tone, his lips twitching up on one side.

“No, but I love cold pizza?” I sounded skeptical, not sure where he was going with this.

Boone nodded, pressing his lips together. “Good answer. How about, do you wet your toothbrush before the toothpaste or after?”

That one I had to think about. Mentally, I walked through my routine. “I wet it both times.”

“You animal,” Boone said, shaking his head. “The only right answer is before the paste.”

“What?” I gasped, “Why is there a right answer?”

“Have you never talked about hot takes before? You’re supposed to defend your opinion no matter what.” Boone shrugs, taking a sip of his drink.

“Give me another one,” I said.

Boone thought for a moment, tapping his chin with his finger. “Crocs aren’t acceptable.”

“Bullshit!” I yelled, pointing at him. “Crocs are a must have footwear item. They’re so versatile. You need to take the trash out? Crocs. Left something in your car? Crocs. Have a long flight? Crocs. Now that’s a hill I’ll die on.”

Boone laughed, “I agree. I just wanted to see you fight back. I like it.” He brought the can to his lips and didn’t take his eyes off me.

I melted under his intense gaze. The timid girl in me wanted to look away and admit defeat. Instead, the woman from the other night stepped up and refused to back down.

“I have one!” I said. “Toilet paper roll, does it go over or under?”

Boone didn’t hesitate when he said, “It doesn’t matter.”

“It totally does, over all the way.”

“I can’t agree with you there, sorry,” Boone shrugged. “It doesn’t change the way I use it.”

“Unbelievable,” I muttered, taking a sip of my wine.

Boone and I spent the next hour or so discussing hot takes and pet peeves. I learned Boone can’t stand when someone scrapes a fork or spoon against their teeth. Which, in his defense, was valid. I shared about my hatred of being late, I was always early to everything.

The more time I spent with him, the more I let my walls down. Each time we were in each other’s company, I saw a different side of Boone I never knew existed. Not much surprised me, but I’d be lying if I said I saw this coming.