Junkie(89)
“I didn’t lie. I’m not in a relationship,” I said.
“But you’re involved with someone.” She pressed.
Trent was walking toward us; he likely thought the interview was over.
“I think that’s enough questions for the day,” I said and turned to walk away.
“Is it because you’re afraid everyone will find out you’re involved with another man?” she asked quietly. I was the only one close enough to hear.
I stopped and turned. “What?”
She glanced over my shoulder toward the direction Trent approached. “The way he looks at you.” She glanced back at me.
I felt my stomach drop.
“It’s the same way you look at him.”
“Which is?” I played dumb.
“Which is the reason if I offered you my number, you wouldn’t take it.”
“I’d take it.” I disagreed.
“You wouldn’t use it.”
“That doesn’t mean I’m gay,” I said point blank.
She shrugged. “No. It doesn’t.”
I knew the second Trent was within touching distance. My skin tingled a little and the air around me became a little more electrified.
“Finished?” he said, stepping up to my side.
“Yes,” I answered, staring at Emily.
“It wouldn’t be the big deal you’re thinking it would be.” She went on.
Okay. This woman needed a muzzle. She had no idea when to shut up. Clearly, this was why she was still single.
“What are you talking about?” Trent asked.
“Nothing,” I said. “Let’s go.”
“It could actually work to your advantage. It’s almost trendy these days. You’d get more press, and your career would probably benefit. We could spin—”
I silenced her with a slash of my hand in the air. “You said this was off the record.”
She inclined her head. “It is, but—”
“No but. You’re way off base here. If I even hear a whisper of this conversation in the media, I will sue you for defamation of character.”
“I didn’t mean to insult you.” Her eyes widened.
“I’m not insulted.” I protested. “I just don’t like it when people I don’t know make assumptions and try to tell me how to handle my career.”
“I’ve overstepped.” She fidgeted.
Trent, who had been listening to the exchange with quiet interest, gave me a look. “What the hell is going on?”
“I look forward to reading your article.” I lied.
“As soon as the draft is complete, I’ll email it to you.” She offered.
“Great. Thank you. Have a safe trip home.” I turned and walked away.
Trent appeared at my side a few seconds later, his long legs having no problem catching up to me. “What the fuck happened?”
“You have the keys to the Mustang?”
He pulled them out of his pocket and held them up. “Drew.” Trent grabbed my arm.
I stopped walking and pulled back. “She asked me if we were in a relationship,” I said low and fast.
Shock flickered over his face. “Are you serious?”
“She wanted to break the story. She thinks me being gay will benefit my career.”
Trent laughed, but it was a hollow, empty sound. “How the hell did she figure it out?”
“I didn’t stare at her tits or take her in the back room for a quickie,” I replied, harsh. “So of course I’m gay.”
Trent rubbed a hand over the back of his neck and swore beneath his breath. “I’m sorry.” Regret laced his tone. “Wait.” He glanced up. “She hit on you?”
Amusement coursed through me. “Who’s the possessive one now?”
He looked sheepish. “Maybe I shouldn’t have come.”
“Fuck that,” I spat. “She was just nosing around for a story.”
“A lot of reporters are gonna do that.”
Frustration welled up inside me. So much frustration. I wished this were easier.
“You gotta go to class this afternoon?” I asked.
“Not if you don’t want me to.”
“I don’t want you to,” I whispered.
There it was again. Sparks, currents of attraction between us. It was a force all its own, so tangible if I had a spoon, I could likely scoop it out of the air.
“C’mon,” T said, able to break free first. “Joey promised me a ride in her Skyline.”
“Sounds good.” My shoulders relaxed, and I smiled what felt like my first real smile in almost the entire day.
And that’s how I knew the love I felt for Trent was real. The kind people fought for. Because even the threat of a reporter “outing” us to everyone wasn’t enough to keep me from wanting to spend the rest of the day with him.