Disclaimer: Story characters belong to the author, any resemblances to real people are entirely coincidental.
Content Advisory: Adult situations, language, sexual references
Copyright, 2010, Anyta Sunday, www.anytasunday.com
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Chapter Twenty
The silence went on way too long. Dammit, say something more. "Trey..." Again I lost my voice. The words in my head evaporating as his saddened face turned to me. For a moment lightness gleamed in his eyes, but it quickly settled into confusion.
He stared at me, his mouth partially opened, a frown deepening.
Despite being out in the open air, I felt enclosed--in a place entirely too small that it suffocated my purpose. My words. Apology. Talk now! Say something. Explain.
I sucked in a breath. Hoped it would help.
"Trey--"
"Shane?--" we both spoke at once. Then both hesitated to allow the other one to continue. But it's me that needs to speak. I nodded to myself and stepped closer to Trey. I winced inwardly when he took one back.
"This is all a misunderstanding," I said. "What you saw, or think you saw...it wasn't like that."
"And what did I see then? Tell me how that kiss was an accident, because I've tried to come up with ways to make it not true, Shane, but I can't. I was right there. I saw it. You didn't even try to push away..."
The air felt heavy, threatening to rob my breath. "No, I didn't. Because I was too shocked. I hadn't expected that. But I also didn't return the kiss, Trey." I took another step toward him and was relieved when he didn't step back. He seemed nervous. Unsure. But--and I hope I wasn't reading this wrong--hopeful.
I scanned the shore until my gaze rested on an old log. I motioned towards it and Trey moved over. Unsaid confirmation we were going to talk.
"Syd was very--extremely upset." I heard the defensiveness in my voice. The almost whining, believe me, believe me. I took a deep calming breath. Trey is listening. I tried to detail Syd's background sufficiently without going into too much detail, leading to that morning in the hospital. "So, he was a wreck. He didn't stop to think when he pulled me into that kiss. He just...he wanted to know his father would love him no matter what. He didn't want to have to feel afraid anymore. It meant nothing more than that. For both of us."
Another silence settled over us. Even the rustling of the trees tapered off. Please say something.
He sighed, picked up a smooth stone wedged under the log and threw it at the lake. It made a small splash at the edge.
"I didn't know how much you liked me, Shane. I knew you found me attractive. I knew you liked me even. I just. I thought maybe I was wrong about how much. And then the next morning I saw you kissing him." Adams apple bobbed up and down working at hiding the hurt. The next morning? I skimmed through the events the evening before the kiss. The toothbrush incident. Trey's opening up about his aunt. And then--oh. Dammit. My response. My failure to return those words to him.
And as if to confirm it, Trey continued, "You know what hurt most, what"--he pressed his chest--"had this terrible pressure was the thought I wanted this `us' more than you did."
I didn't like how he spoke in the past tense. Did it mean he didn't want an `us' anymore? My heart raced as I stared at him.
He looked down at the turned up earth at his feet, grinding his heels into it. "But then you turned up here. I actually thought I was dreaming at first." The smallest smile kissed the side of his lips. "The moment I saw you, I knew I was wrong. Had overreacted. I do mean something to you. Have to. In that second the pressure in my chest just disappeared. But I was still confused at that kiss."
In a humbled voice, and daring to slide closer, I asked, "Are you still confused about it?"
"No. I trust you, Shane. I believe you. I'm so fucking thrilled to understand it." He rested his hand on the log, a finger width from my own.
"So what are we saying? Are we...good?" I eliminated the distance between our hands so our pinkies touched.
Trey hooked his little finger around mine, still staring out at the water. "We're good."
I squeezed my pinky around his and for over thirty minutes we sat, a comfortable quiet cradling us. Neither quite sure what to do next, but happy to go with whatever.
As I searched the trees, the shore, the lake, as I watched the sky brighten, I thought over Trey's concerns. Sadly, I could see where his thoughts about my feelings toward him came from. While he had opened up to me about some of his most private memories, I had yet to share him any of mine. I wanted to know him, be there for him. But I hadn't given him the same courtesy. He wants to know me too, be there for me. But he wants me to let him.
I let go of his hand, squeezing mine tight at my side. "I hate cheesecake. Hate the way it's so smooth against my teeth. There's nothing to chew. I feel like I'm eating baby food. I dislike watching sport on tv except for field hockey and occasionally soccer--uh, and I sort of like figure skating. Not that I'd ever want to do it--I just like the skill." Now it was my turn to ground my heel into the dirt. "I'm sorry, but I also know shit all about basketball. Actually, to the point it's embarrassing." I told him stupid facts about myself, working up to more personal things. "And I love playing video games even if Syd can kick my ass any day of the week. Oh and I was bored shirtless by Die Hard."
I took a deep breath and continued before he had a chance to say anything, "When I was seven I teased the boy I sat next to about a scar on his face." God, I was ashamed of that one.
"And at ten I cheated on a school test. I didn't have many friends. So I was pretty much a loner except for June and Dylan until I met Ryan in high school. Dylan was my first best friend. He had leukemia and died before his thirteenth birthday. I didn't cry when my mom told me. Not straight away, at least. I was afraid my dad would hear about it and think I was a wuss. That he'd come up with some way to teach me a lesson. When I went to his funeral I didn't take any tissues with me--I really thought I'd be able to hold back those tears just worried about what dad would think. But I cried hard. Wailed. Nose running, everything, the works. And that was the moment I realized my dad was wrong. I listened to Dylan's dad give a speech about all the wonderful things Dylan was. He was crying too and not ashamed of it. I felt so guilty that I'd even tried to hold back those tears. I was ashamed that he was looking down on me and hurting because of it--because I was willing to not show him that I cared."
I felt a hand on my knee and a shadow cast over me. Looking up, Trey knelt in front of me. I wiped my eyes. I hadn't seen him move. Or even realized I'd been crying.
"I think I started to hate my Dad then. Because of that. He never said anything directly, but just the way he was--I feared his reaction..."
Trey rubbed his hands up and down my thighs, the saddest expression on his beautiful face.
"He used to tell Mom he loved her. All the time. Yet he always managed to hurt her or one of us, somehow. Never physically, emotionally. I know I was only young when they split up, but I remember him saying those words like it was a period to a sentence. But they didn't mean anything. He said it, but never showed it." I risked a longer look at Trey, and kept his gaze while I whispered, "I don't want to be my dad, Trey. That's why I'm afraid of those words--coming from me."
He wiped my tear stained cheeks with the back of his hand. "I don't know your dad, but I from what I hear about him you are nothing like him. I know you as kind, and generous and sensitive. I know what it's like to live with family who care very little about my feelings, you give me so much. I see how you are with June, with the kids at school, with me--you're certainly the most amazing guy I know. And it's why I love you." He gazed at his hands on my thighs. "I understand you not wanting to say those words back to me. And...That's okay, say it when you're ready." He met my gaze again. "When you're truly ready."
I nodded and felt a whisper of a sigh leave me. "I'm sorry, Trey."
"For what?"
"The misunderstanding. For being so God-damn slow to figure out where you were. For your hurting. For not telling you any of this earlier."
"Then I'm sorry too. For being so rash and coming on out here without even giving you the chance to say something. The hurt dumbified me."
"Dumbified?"
"Yeah, dumbified."
He looked at my shoes like he only just noticed them. "Did you run here?" His voice incredulous. Taken aback.
"I didn't want you thinking any longer than you had to that I betrayed you. But I, ah, only ran three quarters."
Trey's hands traveled once more up my thighs, but this time they didn't stop. Lightly, he dragged his fingers up my sides, over my chest, until they rested either side of my cheeks. He pressed forward, and I opened my knees so he could get closer. Inches apart, his warmth soaked through my clothes. He pressed his forehead against mine. Whispered my name. His lovely long lashes kissed mine, tingling. Sweet.
His tongue darted across his lower lip. Mine did the same. He breathed against the wetness. More tingles. His hands moved to push back my hair. Grazed the back of my neck.
Before he came a fraction closer, I closed the distance. Our kiss soft, welcoming, thankful of each other. I didn't want it to stop, and somehow, even once he'd pulled away, it didn't. The taste of him lingered, I could still feel the light weight of his lips. The image of an invisible line between and attached to us filled my head.
"I love it when you smile." Trey brushed another short kiss onto it. My smile only grew.
"Let's pack your tent up and get back to the dorms." I assumed I had a rather suggestive glint in my eye--certainly I did in my voice.
Trey laughed and waggled his brow. "Hell, yeah. In fact, why wait till we get home?" He motioned the empty shore, letting his gaze linger on a soft patch of grass not too far behind us. "No one's about."
I bit my lip. Tempting. But--"I hardly imagine either of us brought protection out here. Considering our purposes."
Trey shook his head, grinning. "You didn't plan on makeup sex? Damn. Okay, but so you know, the next time we have any sort of misunderstanding, be prepared." He grabbed my arms and hauled me gently to my feet. Then hooking his fingers into the waistband of my shorts, pulled me up onto the bank and into a lovely patch of sun. "Still. There's other stuff we can do."
Liking the sound of that...
Hmm, yeah, so our playing? Rolling? Frolicking? (yeah, naked, of course!) well, whatever it was called, it ended up consuming the rest of the morning. By the time we reached my car, crisp blue fall day laced the sky. As soon as my cell phone had gained reception, I'd informed the Mrs. Rollins that we would in fact be coming in today. On the count of the fact I'd never once had a sick day, no questions were asked.
We drove to the school directly, making it in time for the last bell. Mrs. Rollins smiled at Trey as we picked up the keys. Curious--okay, and maybe with more than a hint of a scowl, I watched Trey's reaction out the corner of my eye. He gave her a polite grin, a somewhat hard edge to it that didn't promote further flirting.
We quickly made our escape and headed to the gym. "Did I pass your test, Shane?"
"Test? What test?" Though my cheeks reddened.
"Did I behave better with her this time? You know, you don't ever have to worry."
"I know."
We made our way to the gymnasium where the kids gathered. They ran around us whooping as usual. Jo tugged on Trey's sleeve, and told him he'd grown. "But I'm positive. I can prove it. Stand over there by the window..." her voice trailed off and she made for the other side of the gymnasium.
I allowed myself a moment to watch how he interacted with the kids. He was like, like a big brother. The kids looked up to him, and he in return knew when to be fun and when to be firm. I took a mental snapshot of him holding his hand above his head and measuring it against the window frame, a large grin on his face. I'm going to treasure that for a long, long time.
"Okay, okay," I said to the swarm of kids now hovering around me. "Gather round in a circle, everybody."
With the usual hot-cold enthusiasm, the kids formed a dented ring. I picked up a soft ball from the bins of equipment at the side wall. "How do we feel about playing dodge ball?"
Some of the kids groaned, but most jumped up and down and started dividing themselves into two teams. "Wait a second, please. I'll nominate captains and then they will each take turns picking team members." That way it would lead to an even game. "Okay, Shannon, you're captain for the blue team." I handed her a set of matching colored bibs.
"And," I said, moving with the red bibs to Paul, "You are also captain."
It surprised me then, when Paul picked Karl first. Was this strategy? Picking the best players? Or had I missed something? For the next half-hour I studied the two carefully. They sure played well together when they wanted to.
Trey busted me for a frown when, after the game, Karl clapped a friendly hand on Paul's shoulder. Was I seeing this correctly? I mean, cool stuff, just, huh?
Karl hung out with Jessie after that and barely laid eye-contact on Paul again for the rest of the afternoon, but, well, it was a start. And I'd never expected or even wanted that the two became best buds or anything. Just that acceptance is nice.
At the end of work, Paul hung behind until I'd finished talking to some of the parents picking up their children. He gave me a shy grin. "C-can we p-play hoc-key again next t-ime? I l-liked that a lot. I've b-been practicing."
I ruffled the hair on his head. "Sure thing."
Soon only Trey and I remained in the gym. He grabbed a basketball from the containers at the side and threw it neatly into the hoop. The ball bounced on the wooden floors, the sound ricocheting off the walls. "How'd you mind if we taught the kids a little basketball too, sometime?" He plucked the ball from the ground and hooked it under his arm. "I could teach them the rules and explain how the game works?"
I could see through his suggestion. In fact, I bet he counted on it. "Sure," I said, battling down the flush threatening to make an appearance. Why not two birds with one... basketball? "I'm sure they'd love that."
That night we stayed at Trey's. He said he was keen on making me a dessert to die for, and I quite willing obliged. Especially at the mention of just how much chocolate would be going into the dish. Yum.
Oh yeah, yum. After finishing it with him and his family, we all looked about ready to pop. No kidding. I even undid the top button of my pants. (I'd changed since work--I had jeans and a shirt in the car). Trey used it as permission to undo his own. We shared a sneaky grin.
Patricia seemed mostly in a good mood. She'd muttered once as we came into the house. But I suspected she was getting used to our visits, because the insults and warnings came less, and she even complimented Trey on his dessert; a grunted Mmmm not bad. But, hey, it was something!
His mom practically staggered to her feet and started around to Aunt Patricia. (Oh yeah, whenever she was snarky I called her Pat--much to Trey's approval). Trey got to his feet. "Nah, Ma. I'll get the wicked bitch to bed," he said with a wink to his aunt.
For some reason, instead of blowing (like I expected her to) she cackled. "Don't you forget it."
A wisp of smile graced his mom's face. "Fine. Also, could you set her alarm to eight?"
"Stupid AA, robbing my sleep," Aunt Patricia grumbled.
His mom passed us, but as she did said a quiet, "Thanks, Trey."
Forty-five minutes later and Aunt Patricia was cozy in bed. Trey snaked an arm around my waist at the bottom of the stairs. He chewed on his bottom lip a moment as if contemplating.
I mouthed a `what', and--whoosh--Trey flung me up into his arms and raced up the stairs, two at a time, at least. Whoa! I might not have liked losing the control there, but hell it was hot. Yep, not going to lie, his strength definitely had sex appeal.
He butted open his door and crashed into his room. "Fuck it!" Trey yelped as he tripped over something.
We fell onto his bed. I gripped my sides laughing until a nice stitch in the side told me to cool it. "That," I said pointing to the shoe that'd tackled him, "is one reason to tidy up after yourself."
"Humpf. But what a fortunate and most appropriate landing," he leaned over me, pinning my arms above my head, "don't ya think?"
I beckoned him closer with a roll of the eyes. When his ear met my mouth, I said, husky, "Take these fucking pants off me."
Just a week ago meeting Dad was the absolute last thing I wanted to do. This week--today, I met the morning with less anticipation. Or at least less of the bad kind. Despite the lack of sleep (I wonder what could have kept me up?) I jumped up out of bed. Showered in, believe it or not, under five minutes and dressed in two.
"Trey?" I nudged his side, and he rolled over.
"Hmm?"
I kissed his forehead. "Are you still okay with June picking you up this evening? I just have so much to do; I need to get back to college early today." I knew he wanted to spend as much of the day as possible helping out his mom, so my little plan was so far working without a hitch.
"Right. Yay." His words still came out slurred with sleep, but I sensed the intended enthusiasm behind them. "Love to see June. Later..." As quickly as I nudged him out of it he was back to snoring lightly.
I scampered out the house. Looked at my watch. Sweet, just after nine. I made it back to my place to a pleased June. Being on time was worth it just for the brilliant smile she gave me.
She picked up a thick pancake from the stack on the kitchen bench and threw it Frisbee style. I caught it, clapping it between my hands. "Cheers. Uh, since when do you know how to make pancakes?"
I bit into it and knew the answer. Just swallow and smile.
"I don't, but I figured it couldn't be too hard. Flour, milk, eggs, salt, right? Besides," she hesitated over the pan before resting the fish slice, "I needed something to do." I didn't miss the glance at the microwave clock.
I grabbed a plate and rested the stodgy pancake on it. Moved to her side and looped an arm around her shoulder. The closest we'd come to a hug since I'd told her about Trey.
She looked at me, worry a light shadow on her face. Her words ringed with hesitation and uncertainty. "He'll come, Shane. This time he will."
I hope so too.
"It means so much you came again today." June leaned her head on my shoulder and wove her hands around my waist. "You're the best brother I have."
I grinned into her hair and let her go. "The only brother you have."
June smirked and bit into a ripped a piece of pancake. "Ugh!" She spat it out. "Way too much salt." She smacked her lips in distaste and scowled at me. "Why didn't you warn me they were so bad?"
I chuckled as she scraped the rest of the batter into the bin. She took the dirty dishes and piled them up near the sink and our chatter somehow lead back to Trey. A brief smile graced her face before it fell again.
"Uh, what time did you want Trey around tonight?" she asked.
"Nine o'clock is good." She nodded and turned around. I grabbed the scrubbing brush of her and bumped her to the side. "I'll wash. It's the least I can do for you... uh, helping me out." I paused. "June, why are you doing this for me?"
She kept her gaze on the dishtowel she'd plucked from the oven. "It's for the both of you. I"--she twisted the material around her hands--"I--it's a start." She braved eye contact. Her own were moist. "It still hurts sometimes, what happened and all--but you didn't hurt me Shane, neither did Trey. It was, well, just a sucky truth for me. But I am happy, in some way, that the two of you are together. How could I not be? You both are my two favorite people."
She motioned for me to start washing instead of staring at her. I dunked the bowl into the soapy water. "So, I'm helping you guys tonight, because it's a start. For me to show you guys that I will be alright."
I placed the dripping bowl onto the rack, then, wet fingers and all crushed her into another hug.
Light steps entered the room. I glance up at Mom over June's shoulder. She smiled at us, and I almost heard the Glad you two know what's important, come from it.
We all chatted together in the kitchen as we finished the dishes. For a moment it was as if we all lived together again. Like college never began.
"Shane," mom said to me when June scuttled off into the living room. "How are you doing?"
I knew this wasn't an all and everything how are you doing, but a question targeted at my relationship with Trey and the one with my sister. With Trey? great, super, wonderful, amazing. With June? I smiled. "Things are looking up, Mom."
"Good. I--I'm happy to hear that." She beckoned me into her study across from the living room. "I"--she sat down and met my gaze--"Are you planning on telling your father?"
Until that moment, I hadn't thought of it. It'd always been a no go in my mind. He'll be disgusted, curse something rabid, probably disown me. Yet despite all that...maybe. It was something I never thought I'd do. But that had been before. Before Syd's story, before seeing his dad apologize, before realizing it was possible Dad could have changed too.
Still, possible. Not probable.
"It's up to you how and when and even if you tell him, Shane, but I wanted you to know again that no matter how he reacts, you still have a mother and a sister that loves you completely. That are so proud of the person you've grown up to be."
Her voice rose a notch, and I knew she was holding back from crying. I crossed the small room and threw my arms around her, letting her perfume envelope me. It feels so safe here. "Anyway," she said after a good mom-son hug, "I'm going to be right here in this room if you need me. Just call and I'll be right there."
The doorbell rang. Mom and I both checked our watches at the same time. "Would you look at that," she said, surprised, "he's even early."
I allowed myself a small grunt and went to open the door. Dad gave me a lazy grin and a hello before waltzing into the house. "Where's my Juney?"
June leaped up from the couch, relief relaxing her. "Dad! It's so good to see you." I heard in her voice just how much she meant it. I hung back, perched on the arm of the couch.
Dad took off his cap and started spinning it between his fingers. "So how's college been treating you?" He raised a brow, focusing mostly on June. Every time he looked in my direction he seemed to close up. Guess he hasn't forgotten my words last week.
He fished two envelopes out of his back pocket and threw them onto the coffee table. In his scrawled handwriting were our names. One for June, one for me.
June, more animated than I expected of her, told Dad all about classes and, well, basically gave him a rundown of the last few months. When he asked if she was still with that Trey fella June glanced at me, and shook her head. "No, ah, we're not anymore."
"Pity, I liked that guy."
Would he still like the guy if he knew?
He stuck his cap back on and rested his head back on the armchair. "And what about you, Shane?" His voice sounded strained. "How are you?"
I pondered the question, tossing possible answers around in my head. I could play along: I'm good, college is fine--blah, blah, blah. But it would a load of crap. Wouldn't mean a thing. I couldn't do this with him. It was fake. We were better off not knowing each other.
Then the image of Syd father lying in hospital came back to me. I so would care if it had been Dad. June's words of a week earlier rang in my head, I think a part of you wished you could believe in him too.
I swallowed down the hard lump in my throat. She's right. I should give him a chance.
My gut twisted. I wiped my clammy hands onto my jeans. I could give him a chance, but it would be done on my terms.
I met Dad's gaze and held it. "Honestly, Dad, I'm angry. I wish I could say I love--heck even like--your calls or visits, but I dread them. I feel like a disappointment when I'm around you and I feel guilty for who I am. But I like the guy I am. Growing up with you..." I took a moment to collect myself, I could feel the start of a tear slipping. "...it wasn't so easy." Why was I holding back these tears? That's exactly what I'm talking about. About being myself. "I want to forgive you for that, but it's sort of up to you, and it will take effort on your part."
Dad narrowed his eyes but surprised me by not saying anything except to grunt.
"What I need from you right now is for you to listen to what I'm saying. If you love me at all, you'll say nothing. Absolutely nothing. Not a word. I hope you'll give me so much respect."
June came and sat behind me on the couch. The motion meant a lot, her way of backing me up. I took a deep breath and tried to ignore the flipping nerves inside. I met Dad's gaze. Now. Say it... "I like other guys, Dad. I'm gay."
His face scaled through colors, first paling then flashing to brighter and brighter shades of red. His lip trembled and I saw the words threatening to come off them, starting with you telling me you're a fucking fag...
I flinched in expectation. Nothing.
My hands shook at my sides and a folded them around myself like a hug. In a shaky voice I finished, "So think about whether you want us to have a relationship at all. If you will accept me for who I am, if you do that, then you can call me."
I got up to leave the room, and at the same time he stood. The anger in his eyes sent a shiver through me. But he hasn't said a word.
He moved to the coffee table and his hand hovered over the envelope with my name on it. I watched him. What would he do?
He looked at me one more time and shook his head. His fingertips scraped the paper, but after a moment's hesitation he skimmed over it, turned, and left the house. No goodbye to June. Just his heavy footsteps and a slam of the door.
Still, he hadn't said a word.
I gurgled some water from my drink bottle and spat it out into the wash basin. Through the bathroom doors I heard the dulled pumping of music winding its way from the Ori Café stage. Each time there came a lull, my stomach tightened. Not long now.
Looking in the smudgy mirror, I ran a nervous hand over my hair. Remember, this is for Trey. Just focus on him.
I emerged and headed back to the little room behind the stage, where Syd sat. I plunked myself onto the tiny sofa next to him. Glanced at my watch.
"Only one more song," he said. "Then Lucas will introduce you onstage, without saying your name as you requested."
I nodded and drummed my fingers on the guitar case.
"Nervous much?"
"Care to stab a guess at that?"
Syd laughed. "Yeah. But seriously, you're going to do fine out there. People will just love your voice."
I let out a shaky breath. "Thanks for getting Lucas to agree to this."
"It was nothing. He's thrilled to be able to do something as a thanks for being there for me this week."
My cellphone buzzed and I read the text from June. Sweet. Just arrived. He hasn't got a clue. Thinks we're having a friendly catch up.
As soon as I'd read it, my phone buzzed again. I smiled. Hey. Gone for a drink with June. Won't b back 2 late. Hope u got ur stuff done. XOXO, Trey.
I smiled. Not done yet. But soon.
The song wound down. My heart picked up. I heard Lucas's words muffled by the wall. "And now we're going to take a short break ladies and gentlemen. During that time we have a special treat for you."
As he made the short introduction I readied myself near the stage entrance. Syd stood next to me, waiting until Lucas and his band came off. Lucas cracked a grin at the same time Syd punched me lightly in the arm. "Go crack a note."
I gripped my blue baby and shuffled on stage to the stool Lucas had set out for me. The café was small enough that I could see the audience clearly. I scanned the crowds. Trey sat with June at the bar, his back to me. I smiled. For you.
I struck the first few chords my fingers flowing, strumming, plucking. The sound came out clean, sweet. Trey stirred at the sound of the guitar, but it was at my first line he swiveled so fast on his stool he almost fell off.
I stared at him. The words coming to life by the truth in them. By the fact I sung it to him. When I got to the last verse, Trey wiped his eyes with the back of his hands, but continued to hold my gaze. I sang the chorus twice through to finish the song.
Oh my chestnut baby, Know that I accept To always keep it real To care and to respect
I smiled at him over the clapping crowd. Just for you. He stood up and the crowds melted either side of him as he headed to the side of the stage. With my guitar in hand I hurried off stage, almost throwing my guitar at Syd. He caught it as Trey grabbed me lifting me so I was hooked around his waist. There were no words. No more needed to be said, but the look in his eyes spoke endless words of kindness, admiration and love.
And his kiss? Yeah, well, that said everything else.
--Four months later--
Ecstatic. There was no other word to describe him. Trey locked me into a vice grip. "I passed!"
"Good. Now I won't be the one driving us everywhere." Not that I minded, but--sweet!--I smiled at the possibility of longer road trips just the two of us.
He reluctantly let me go and handed over the car keys. "We should really get back." He lowered his voice. "There's just so much I want to do to you right now that I don't think Bob there will appreciate."
I raised an oh-so-innocent brow. "Oh yeah?"
He bit his bottom lip, and I practically jumped into the car.
Trey slid in. "Ah, Shane, didn't you want to drive?"
I shook my head. "No way. I think I'll let you be my chauffeur for a while."
He greedily took the back the keys I dangled in front of him. The entire trip to the dorms I watched him. So beautiful.
The parking lot was full, so Trey found a space on the street. In one go he parallel parked. His face glowed with pride as he turned off the car.
"I love you, Trey." The words slipped effortless off my tongue. They felt right. Natural. And I was smiling as I said them.
Trey's eyes softened at hearing me speak those words for the first time. His lashes closed together and opened. The softest, sweetest, purest smile answered my own. He leaned over, resting one arm on the back of the seat. "I know."
"You do?"
His lips met mine. "How could I not? You show me all the time."
--THE END--