As freaked out as I was right now, the idea of not talking was even worse. It scared me to my core to be at odds with Trent.
He was my person. The one I always wanted to be there.
I’d never allowed myself to think about in what way I wanted him to be there. But avoidance went out the door when I saw him at the bar with another guy.
I didn’t like it.
No, I hated it with soul-searing passion.
In the driveway, I cut off the engine and palmed the keys. I didn’t look back to see if he followed. I knew he would. There was no way all the tension filling the air was one sided.
It was time.
I tossed the keys on the table by the front door, kicked off my shoes, and made a beeline for the kitchen. For lack of a better idea, I put on some coffee.
The front door rattled when it closed behind him, and I felt the tension between my shoulder blades intensify.
My hands were shaking. It was painfully obvious as I poured the water into the back of the machine. I no longer knew why they were shaking, though, or rather which emotion inside me was making them quake.
Too much.
There was just too much inside me right now to understand which emotion was strongest.
“We need to talk about Lorhaven,” Trent said, stepping into the kitchen.
“Fuck Lorhaven.” I snarled and slammed the coffee pot onto the burner.
“You told me you wouldn’t go around him alone anymore,” he argued.
“And you told me you had a frat thing tonight.”
His Adam’s apple bobbed with the force of his swallow. My eyes watched candidly as it moved with his attempts. “Drew.”
A million.
That’s how many times he’d said my name.
One.
That’s how many times he’d said it like that.
Something in my chest collapsed. It literally crumbled to pieces.
I leaned against the counter, needing something to support my weight. “Why did you go there?” I forced the words, my tone husky.
Trent rubbed a hand over his face and then slung his thumb in the pocket of his jeans. He looked everywhere but at me—the floor, the ceiling, the shoes still on his feet.
I looked only at him. I had to look. I had to see.
I wasn’t quite sure what I was looking for, but I was positive I’d know it when I found it.
“You went to a gay bar on the other side of town,” I pressed. I couldn’t take the silence. “You lied to me about it. Why?”
“I…” His voice trailed away.
“Did you think I wouldn’t accept you?”
His hazel eyes snapped up to mine. For the first time in what felt like eons, his golden gaze was there for me to take in. “No.”
“Then…?”
“I just wanted to see, okay?” he rushed out.
I held his eyes. “See what?”
He shifted, shuffling from one foot to the next, before answering. “I’ve always wondered… about myself. About the way I feel. It’s confusing… to feel one way but know it should be the other. So I conformed. I did what was expected.”
His eyes took on a desperate note. “It wasn’t that bad… Until… It’s getting harder…” He cleared his throat and looked away.
“Until when?” I pressed.
He didn’t answer, and it made me impatient. “Until when, Trent,” I demanded, harsh.
Goddamn, this was killing me. I couldn’t take another second of this… this… unknown.
“Until I met you!” he burst out. His arms spread wide with the force of his exclamation.
A flush spread beneath my skin. Desire. And something else.
Possession.
“From the second you sat down beside me at Screamerz, I felt a connection with you. At first, I thought it was just friendship… you know, the kind Rome and B have. But it’s not. Not for me. It’s more…”
There it was. The words I’d been waiting to hear.
It seemed like I’d been waiting way longer than just tonight to hear this confession.
Deep down you always knew, too.
The thought caught me off guard. But I couldn’t deny it. I didn’t have time to think about it, to try and make sense of the feeling, though, because Trent kept talking.
“I went tonight because I wanted to see, I thought I could maybe try out a few… things and see if it made me less confused.”
He shifted again. It’s odd how his nervousness drew me. How predatory it made me feel.
Hearing him say these things… it made me insane.
“What things?” I ground out.
He glanced up, as if he hadn’t realized what he said. “What?”
“You wanted to try out a few things,” I replied. “What things?”
“It doesn’t matter,” he exclaimed and went to push a hand through his hair. But he couldn’t because the backward hat was still perched there. He settled for making a frustrated sound in the back of his throat.