“Trey, you don’t have to—”
He steps around to face me. “No, Kate. I want to. I mean, I’m not saying we’re going to last forever. I don’t think I could know that even if the timeline wasn’t at risk of shifting and yanking you away at any given moment—I’m eighteen, you’re seventeen. I’m not sure forever talk even makes sense at our age. But right now, you are everything to me. I want to spend every second with you, and when I can’t be with you, I’m thinking about how much I want to be with you. You were right, Kate. This is right.”
Trey bends down to kiss me, and the kiss almost convinces me. Almost. I finally push away the annoying little voice in my head telling me that this feels a little forced, that maybe things are a little too perfect. I can’t keep comparing everything to last time.
We break the kiss a few minutes later. Trey tugs at my arm, pulling me toward the door that leads back inside. “So. Have we had enough sunset?”
I give him a little nod, and he says, “Okay then. Let’s go.”
“Dessert?” I ask.
He laughs and pulls me up against him. “Yes, definitely dessert.”
The restaurant is on the second floor, but as we head back down, the elevator opens on the fifth floor. Trey steps out, so I follow. He turns at the first corridor, pulls a digital key card from his pocket, and slips it into the slot above the handle.
“It’s not a suite, but at least we have a nice view of the city.”
Okay, I guess I’m slow, because I don’t catch on until I see the king-sized bed in the middle of the small room. There’s a tray of chocolate-dipped strawberries on the table next to the window, and the room is decked out in shades of gold and cream, much like the dining room. And did I mention the king-sized bed?
Dear God.
“Trey? Why are we here? I thought . . .”
He puts his arms around me. “Because as much as I like your room at the townhouse, like I said before, this should be special. Perfect.” His eyes are growing a bit wary, probably because I’m not really responding as he’d expected. And as much as I’d like to be able to just accept this, something seems very, very wrong. You don’t go from hands above the equator to this in a single day.
“Trey . . .”
His lips silence me for a moment, and then he says, “Hmmm?”
“I thought we were going to take things slow?”
“Well, yeah, but then last night—”
“We were still taking things slow.”
His arms fall down to his sides, and he looks at me in disbelief. “What happened . . . well, nearly happened . . . in my room last night wasn’t taking it slow.”
I back away and sink into one of the chairs by the window, my hands over my face. “Can you please tell me exactly what happened in your room? Because I kind of don’t remember any of that.”
He’s silent for so long that I think I’m going to have to repeat the question, and then he sits on the edge of the bed and says in a soft voice, “You’ve got to be kidding me. Are you saying that wasn’t you? Or that it’s you two weeks from now, when you’ve decided taking it slow was a bad idea?”
I can tell he’s angry, and I can’t blame him. “I don’t know, Trey. That’s why I need to you tell me what happened.”
“I was almost asleep. And then you showed up. Wearing this white lace thing . . . remember, I asked if you’d bring it or wear it or whatever?”
“I thought . . . you were joking.”
“Yeah. The librarian outfit. I thought you were joking.”
“So what did . . . this person say? What convinced you it was me?”
“You didn’t say much of anything. It was more the appearing out of nowhere, holding that stupid key, and the crawling into my bed. I practically had to—”
I can’t read his expression when he finally looks over at me. It’s some weird mix of embarrassment, annoyance, and confusion. “Damn it, Kate. You’re really saying that wasn’t you? It was Prudence—is that what you’re saying?”
“I don’t know, Trey! All I know is that I’ve never been in your room. I don’t have a stable point set anywhere near your house. I can’t entirely discount the possibility that it was me, at some later point, but if so, I would remember this night. And believe me, I would have done everything possible to avoid . . . this.”
I glance around at the room again. I have no idea how, or how much, he paid for this evening. And now, if and when we finally make it to our first time, this colossal fiasco will be in the back of our minds.
“Could you start back at the beginning again?” I say, trying to keep my voice level.
“My room around eleven. Me, nearly asleep. You, or someone who looks exactly like you in the moonlight, crawls onto my bed and starts . . .” He tilts his head back and stares up at the ceiling. “Holy crap, Kate, I do not believe this.”
We’re getting nowhere with his narration, so I shift to questions. Specifically, the main question that’s on my mind.
“Did we . . . I mean did you and this other person do anything?”
“No, but only because I was pretty insistent that I didn’t want your first time to be in a twin bed, under a shelf with my soccer trophies, two rooms down from where my dad was sleeping.”
“Do you think she was . . . our age? Or maybe older?”
“I don’t know, Kate. It was dark. I didn’t get a close look at your face. But you didn’t feel old.”
I wince and realize I really don’t want him to clarify what he meant by that.
“Did you kiss her?” Maybe Trey wouldn’t even know it wasn’t me if he kissed Prudence, but I don’t want to believe that.
“No. She kind of left in a hurry.”
I’m glad beyond belief to hear him finally say she instead of you.
“How do you think she got in?” Trey asks. “We have a security system, and Estella is really careful about who she lets in the house.”
I move over to the edge of the bed and sit next to him. “It’s an old house. Did your grandparents have a security system? Or what about whoever owned the house before them? Prudence could have set the point in 1900, for all we know, as long as she knew which room you’d be in now.”
“Fine then, why? Why would she do that?”
Trey looks at me, and for a second, I imagine a bullet hole on his forehead, exactly where it was on Moehler’s.
My heart stops, and I squeeze my eyes shut. When I open them, the hole isn’t there.
But that doesn’t change the fact that it could be.
“She’s sending me a message. That they’re watching. That they can get to the people I love.”
That the truce is off.
For a fleeting moment, I consider jumping back a few days. I could show up at Trey’s house, unannounced, and get him to take me upstairs. I’d set my own stable point, and then when Prudence showed up . . . I probably wouldn’t actually kill her, but the thought is tempting.
Of course, that would pull Trey into this even further. It would put him and his family at greater risk.
And that’s not happening.
Katherine was right. Dear God, I hate saying this; I really, really do, but I should never have pulled Trey into this. The smart move would be to jump back and yank that manila envelope out of my hands before I ever hand it to Trey. Reverse the past few months and keep him safely, blissfully unaware that I even exist. But that would result in so many dueling memories that it’s not a viable choice.
“I’m sorry, Trey. I’ll pay you back for everything.” I glance around the room. “This must have cost you a fortune.”
“So I spent my birthday money for once. Big deal. I’m not upset about the money, Kate.” He leans forward and kisses me very gently. “Hey, I’m okay with taking it slow. Let’s just rent a movie. Eat the strawberries. I meant what I said. On the roof. I love you.”