“Yes,” I finally whisper breathlessly.
“Yes?”
I’m vaguely aware that my head is bobbing. So intense is this high that nothing else matters. I let him gently pull me in. The door clicks closed behind me and he smoothly guides me into his dark apartment with a hand pressed against the small of my back. Down the hall, and into his bed, his sheets cool and crisp and smelling of fabric softener. I sense, rather than see, Trent’s body slide in behind me, pressing up against me from toes to shoulder, never once letting go of my hand. Not once. I snuggle against him, reveling in his warmth.
And in that heavenly peace, I fall asleep.
***
A hissing sound …
Bright lights …
Blood …
I’m gasping.
Slow rhythmic breathing next to me helps regulate my own heart rate as I wake up from my nightmare. At first, I assume it’s Livie, but then I feel my hand wound into someone’s large, hot hand—not Livie’s hand.
I roll my head to see Trent’s perfect form, the peaks and ripples of his chest, his face relaxed and boyish. I could lay here and stare at him forever. I don’t want to let go. Ever.
That’s why I have to.
I slip my hand out carefully and slide from the comfort of Trent’s bed, closing the door softly behind me as I exit his apartment.
***
Livie’s waiting for me in the kitchen, getting breakfast before heading off to school, her eyes wide with worry. “You stayed at Trent’s?” Her tone is half-accusatory, half astonished.
“Nothing happened, Livie.”
“Nothing?” She glares at me. There’s one thing Livie can do well. Glare until you squirm when you’ve lied.
“I held his hand,” I whisper finally. To anyone outside listening in, we’d sound like a bunch of nine year olds. But to Livie, who understands the impact of this, this is huge.
She’s speechless for a moment, sputtering gurgles and half-words. “Is this … do you think this could be something more?” she finally asks.
I shrug indifferently but the heat creep to my cheeks, giving away my excitement.
“You’re blushing!”
I pick up a Cheerio and toss it at her head.
She dodges it deftly, smiling. “I think this could be it. I think Trent could finally bring Kacey back to me.”
I wonder if she’s right. But I just snuck out of his apartment without a note or anything. He might not appreciate that. A twinge of worry jabs me but I supress it. I had no choice. If I had stayed, I know exactly what we’d be doing right now and it isn’t thinking. I need time to think and adjust to this new reality.
I feel Livie’s excitement right down to my bones. For three years, my baby sister has begged me to let go of Billy and move on. The thing is, my issue hasn’t been about moving on from my feelings for Billy. Of course, I cared about him. Did I think he was “the one?” I’ll never know. At sixteen, everyone is “the one.”
No, my issue has been that, because of those last moments with Billy, the very idea of my hands wrapped in someone else’s has plagued me, making my heart stop, my stomach drop, my vision blurry, my muscles spasm, and sweat pour down my back all at once.
Until now.
This is different. This feels … right again.
Chapter Eight
“You look fabulous!” Mia drawls, impersonating her mother and making us all laugh. Storm’s making veal parmesan and I’m modeling my new outfits. I’d exhausted Storm’s closet and needed a few things of my own, so we spent the afternoon at the mall buying clothes. I let Storm coordinate the outfits. I don’t have the first clue how to dress appropriately for a job at a strip club, even after weeks working there. In any case, the ordeal gave me good distraction from Trent.
“I think I’ll wear this tonight,” I announce, coming out in a short emerald green tunic dress that falls off one shoulder and nude heels.
“Good choice! Can you set the table, Kace?” Storm asks as she bends down to check the oven.
“You know you’re going to have to let me cook one day, right?” We’ve spent every night at Storm’s for dinner for weeks.
“I like to cook.”
“Maybe I do too,” I throw back, placing the plates on the table, earning a derisive snort from Livie.
“You’re short one setting,” Storm says with a peek at the table.
I frown. “Uh, no? Four people, four places.”
“We need five,” she says without making eye contact.
“Storm?”
Someone knocks on the door.
“Storm?”
Mia hops to her feet and runs to it, throwing it open with a dramatic bow.
I suck air into my lungs as Trent steps in and I can’t help but gawk. He’s in dark blue jeans again, but he’s wearing a button down white shirt, untucked. I manage to peel my eyes from him long enough to flash a look of “you’re going to pay for this” surprise Storm’s way before turning back to focus on him, all kinds of nervousness and excitement and guilt churning inside me. I don’t know why. Trent and I held hands while watching my friend dance naked. Trent rescued me in the apartment building’s now-infamous snake-attack, and then I jumped him. I spent a night in his bed with him. Eating dinner with him—and my sister and neighbors—hardly qualifies as an intimate encounter that justifies thrashing butterflies. And yet, here I am, ready to pass out.
Mia bows dramatically. “Welcome, kind Sir. Princess Mia has been awaiting your presence.”
Even Mia knew! That little devil.
From behind his back, Trent produces a bunch of five pink roses. He kneels on one knee to present it to her. I hear the collective sigh from all the grown women in the group, including myself.
“Thank you for inviting me,” he says. She clutches the flowers in both her tiny hands, and then gazes at Trent with wide, starry eyes that don’t blink for far too long. Her cheeks flush and I can tell this is the moment where Mia falls in love with him. This tall stranger has just become her life-long prince.
The moment passes rapidly, and then she turns around and runs toward Storm. “Mommy! Mommy! Look what that man gave me!”
Trent winks as he shuts the door behind him, closing the distance to where I’m standing. “You disappeared this morning,” he whispers.
This is so awkward. Thanks, Storm. “I … I know … I’m …” I’m about to say I’m sorry, but he winks.
“It’s okay. I figured it was all a bit too much, too fast.” One finger hooks into mine, buckling my knees with waves of excitement.
I think I’m going to fall in love with this man.
Trent’s gaze drifts over my outfit and I catch the heat in it. Probably the exact same heat as in mine when I look at him. “You look … nice.”
We’re still staring awkwardly at each other, when Livie clears her throat. “Dinner’s ready.”
Storm’s tiny apartment pulses with a warm current as the five of us devour Storm’s cooking. Somehow the snake fiasco comes up and I become the butt of everyone’s jokes. Even Mia joins in, nibbling on my shoulder like a mock- monster. Except she has no front teeth so it’s more like gumming. And through it all, I can’t help but constantly touch Trent’s face with my eyes to find his on mine just as frequently.
By the time dinner is done, and we’re saying our good-byes so Storm and I can head off to work, every fiber of my being craves Trent and I have no interest in pretending otherwise.
***
“Who’s Penny? Clearly someone important.” I gesture to the sign as we pull up in front of the club.
Storm’s fingers tap her steering wheel and her perma-smile falters. “Penny was a really nice girl who met a really bad guy.” She turns to look at me. “Five years ago, Cain ran a club downtown. It was a dive compared to this place. Penny was his star attraction. I hear she brought guys in from all over the state and into Alabama. She started dating this guy, and things got serious. He proposed. Everyone was happy for her. He’d come watch her dance sometimes. He’d give her little kisses and hugs throughout the night. Watch over her a bit. You know, really sweet stuff. Of course, he said once they were married, she’d have to quit. She was fine with that.” Storm’s voice turns somber.