Cold Hearted Bastard

Chapter 19

My body was sore as I rolled onto my side, forcing my eyelids to open. I peeked at my alarm clock, noticing that it read a few minutes past one in the afternoon. Shit, I'd slept for over ten hours. Three rounds of sex would do that to a girl, I supposed. I stretched my legs and arms in opposite directions, the aches it caused faintly unbearable.

I pulled off the comforter from my body and sat up, crossing my legs. I didn't know what to expect when I went downstairs. I had hoped it was the Aspen who actually wanted to see me and not the one who ignored me when most convenient for him. I wasn't going to let him act like that one.

I had to admit I was nervous. Last night changed something between us. Sex always complicated things and crossing that boundary yesterday had meant a lot to me at least. I just hoped it was the same for Aspen because if he liked it or not I was attracted to him and wanted something more. Even if he was leaving to go back to Nevada soon. If he was willing to see where things headed between us, well, we'd figure it out.

I climbed out of bed and headed down the stairs, two feet at a time. I had no clue what anyone was up to and wondered if they'd ask why I'd slept in so late.

My dad was on the dining table, his head buried in an Anatomy book and I guessed it was his day off.

"Hey kiddo," he greeted me, pushing up his glasses as he looked my way. I stood between the doorframe, not exactly walking in, and smiled at him.

"Hi, Dad, where's Meredith and Aspen?" I asked as nonchalantly as I could.

"Meredith's upstairs in her room and not exactly sure if Aspen's even here. Something about having to go meet someone this morning."

I tried my best to hide my disappointment, "Okay thanks dad, if you need me I'm in my room."

"Wait," he called out as I was turning to go, "how was your date last night with, what was his name? Luca? I see you slept in for quite some time so I'm guessing I don't need the answer."

I blushed profusely, trying to hide my embarrassment. If only he'd known it was Aspen who'd kept me up so late well I would not want to be there for that confrontation.

"It was great dad," which wasn't a lie, "I might see him again."

He seemed pleased, as his attention went back to his book. Before I was out of earshot though I heard him say, "I'm glad you're finally moving on."

And those words pierced me so deeply I was surprised I managed to stay standing. Little did he know, I'd never move on. I'd just found distractions.

Aspen came back home when the sun was setting. I had been on the porch passing my time with one of those crossword puzzles when I heard the car come into the driveway. I bit my lip in expectation, however didn't move from my position when he finally approached. All I wanted to know was where we stood.

"Hey," he remarked with exhaustion. I faced him, noticing how tired he looked. He moved closer to me, plopping down on the chair to my right.

"Hi," I greeted him, closing my crossword book and placing it on the side table, "like someone's been busy all day," I commented, hoping he'd tell me what had him preoccupied all day.

"Yea, I've had some stuff to organize." I tried to ignore the vagueness in his response but I'd wished he'd at least wanted to talk to me.

"Oh," was all I could think to say, feeling hopelessness in how this conversation was going to steer.

His lips pursed to my response, "you okay, Tostito?" He then asked, referring me to my least liked nickname. I had to admit it was slightly growing on me.

"Yeah," I said, hoping he wouldn't detect the lie in my tone, "you?"

He looked at me questioningly for a moment, before something like realization replaced it, "if this is about last night..." He trailed off, his hand scratching at the back of his neck.

I nibbled on my bottom lip, waiting for him to continue.

"Because last night was great..." he began, trying to find the right words it looked like, "But it didn't mean anything to me, Wynter. I'm sorry if I gave you the wrong impression."

The asshole couldn't even watch me in the face as he confessed I'd been used. I felt sick, feeling the tears well up at the corners of my eyes. I hastily looked away from him, hoping he wouldn't see.

"No, no," I objected, still looking away from him, "I agree, it meant nothing." I waited for him to respond, knowing that he heard the sadness in my voice. It was so obvious. Because lying to him that it meant nothing to me had been the hardest thing to do.

He didn't even know the length it took out of me to have sex with him. Sex had been absent from my life for three years and it wasn't because I couldn't have it. I actively chose not to. I couldn't believe I was so stupid to trust that last night actually meant something to him.

To my surprise, he ignored the truth behind my words, choosing to ignore my misery. "Okay, well I'll catch you later. I'll be in my bedroom if you need me."

I almost scoffed at him. I wouldn't need you for anything, I'd wanted to tell him. There was no way he didn't suspect my feelings towards him, he just chose to not notice them.

Without saying anything further he left. I didn't let the tears run till he was gone.