Shane and Trey[ Enemies to Lovers 01 ] (17 page)

“Yeah, well, when I bought my car, Dad only chipped in on the condition I got a manual. Said if I can drive this, I can drive anything.”

Trey, nervous to look from the barren lot we were crawling across, glanced in my direction. “Did he teach you?” “Yup, but don’t worry. I’m not going to use his methods.”

I cringed, remembering… What? Are you a complete idiot? Do it again. We’re not leaving here, till you do.Hours it took me to get it right, hours of holding back my tears, knowing they’d only make it worse.

The clucking of Trey’s tongue zapped me back to the moment. I placed a hand atop of his on the stick. More for my own comfort than the demonstration. “Now, when you press the clutch again, you’re going to pull this into second. Smoothly does it, yeah. Good. Now just take your time coming off.”

The transition was pretty good, and before long Trey seemed pretty comfortable rolling around the parking lot in large circles.

“Wish I’d gone to your high school. Might have had more reason to learn this earlier if it wasn’t a two minute walk from my house.”

His face had been flushed most of the drive now, and I sensed his embarrassment. Ignoring it (because I thought that nicest) I urged him to try third gear. The parking lot adjoined two others, so we had enough space to move at street speed. After an hour, I had Trey using the gears to brake, and certain landmarks we used as traffic lights, where he’d come to a complete stop before starting again.

“You’re a quick learner,” I said, impressed at Trey’s growing confidence.

 

“Huh! Here it’s okay. But out there,” he shook a finger toward the street, “that’s going to be another story.”

“Well, I wish I could help you out there, but it’d be against the law. First you need to get your learner’s permit—” “Already got one. I’ve done the theoretical test. I just haven’t had any practical lessons,” he grinned, “until now that is.”

“What stopped you from doing it earlier?”

Trey slowed down, changing gears smoothly. “James left for Europe. Only one willing, and over twenty-one that wanted to do it. As I said, I should have learned as soon as I turned seventeen.”

I wanted to know why his parents hadn’t taught him, but the edge in his voice warned me not to. Instead I studied his profile, wondering if I closed my eyes I could recreate it. Abruptly, Trey stopped the car, the belts tightened against us. Bit of a rough one, definitely need more practice there. Trey swiveled in the chair, unbuckling his belt.

“Had enough?” I asked. Certainly wasn’t going to push him. Not like… Anyway, we’d been at it long enough.

“Not exactly,” he said, expertly moving his giant limbs over to my side. “But if I don’t kiss you right now, I think I might, I dunno, implode or something.” Wow! That’d been unexpected and my-oh-my could he surprise me like this any time! “I enjoyed that,” he said, in-between kisses, “really enjoyed that. It”kiss“ah…means”another kiss“a lot to me” deeper kiss “that you brought me here,”soft kiss, and leaning back“and showed me this.”
You are welcome, oh-so-so welcome.

He opened the passenger door and clambered out awkwardly.
“Now let’s head back. I want to get us some lunch.”

After a wonderful lunch of chicken burgers, onion rings, and salad—yeah, Trey insisted on that last one—we spent a lazy afternoon playing video games and watching, much to my delight, the Princess Bride! With a very promising French kiss, I even bribed him into letting me read his review.It’s a swash-buckler. Go Westley! Go Buttercup! Cheeky and fun, this romance, action, fantasy is a must see. Five stars.

Once it was over we rhymed silly sentences until dinner (the rest of the salad from lunch). The remainder of the evening we blobbed out watching star wars, of which we managed four, before falling asleep in each other’s arms.

Monday morning met me with a bit more than a seed of anticipation. The weekend had been a dream, but today was back to reality. We both had classes to attend, study to do, and—I drew a deep breath—there was June to talk to.

I was dressed and ready to leave for my first class when Trey’s alarm went off. He slapped a palm over it. I chuckled that sound waking him more effectively it seemed. “Hey, you off already?”

“Yup. Linguistics. Have a busy day.” He yawned. “Me too. When will I see you again, babe?” “I finish at four. I promised to meet June at six.” “Blah, I have classes until then.” I walked over to him. “Well, tonight, I guess.”

He stayed quiet a moment, then, almost as if he didn’t want me to hear it, said under his breath, “hopefully.”

 

I didn’t like how that sounded, the way I felt cold inside. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Yanking off the covers, he got up, searching for clothes to put on. “Look. We’ve avoided talking about the issue all weekend, but I’m sure it’s been on both our minds.” He met my gaze for a brief moment before pulling on a t-shirt. “I know I come second—ah—well,afterJune. So if it comes to her asking you to make a choice, I know—and it should be her. But, man, just thinking about that sucks. Bad.” Hurriedly, he yanked down his boxer-briefs and stepped into fresh ones. “I can’t say I’m going to accept that so well.” He came up to me, digging fingers into my arms. “It sort of makes me want to keep you from seeing her,” he said in my ear. Then sighed, and moved to put on his jeans. “I—I just like this bubble we have right now.”

I gulped. Me too.And it wasn’t only Trey with insecu f. really didn’t want her asking me to choose between them. ***

Six o’clock sharp, I knocked on June’s door. With a yank it opened, and a whoosh of air greeted me. Roommate Sara braced herself against the frame chewing loudly on a piece of gum. “You June’s bro?”

I didn’t like the way her gaze wandered—inched?—over me. A touch more subtlety and I wouldn’t have minded. Quickly nodding, I peered into the room looking for any sign of rescue. “Ah, where’s June?”

“Here,” came my sister’s voice from behind me. Thank God.“Let me just dump this.” She pointed to her fat bag, seams almost bursting, and sidled into the room.

Sara leaned toward me. Would it be rude to step back? Trailing a finger over my arm she flashed her pearly teeth. “You’re hot.”
Ahhhh.I glanced at June, standing behind her, obviously ready to leave, but giggling instead. So nice it was to see her smiling, it made me less uncomfortable under Sara’s heated gaze, and more appreciative.

Thankfully though, June snuck between Sara and I, just as her chewing mouth moved closer.

 

“See you!” I said over my shoulder, relieved to be free. June shook her head and her lips quirked, as I shuddered. “She’s not that bad. A bit direct maybe, but nice enough.” “A bit direct?”

“Okay, a lot, but she’s alright.” Her smile widened, and with it my belly flipped.Remember what tonight’s about.A queasy feeling rose and fell between my stomach and throat. I slowed my step, as if that would miraculously make it better.

I could only imagine I’d gone pale and sickly looking, which would explain why June’s smile now dwindled. She opened the main doors and we cut through the crisp fall air to a Chinese takeaway joint around the corner.

“Strange thing,” June zipped up her top, “Dad rang this weekend.” Her voice was cautious, and soft, as if nervous of my reaction.
I shivered. “Called me, too. I don’t understand it. He usually only rings on birthdays or Christmas.” I kicked a chunk of red and amber leaves in front of me. “At least then I’m prepared for it. But this was so out of the blue. He didn’t have to remind me we’d be meeting this weekend. Hardly could forget that.” I wished there were more leaves to kick, instead I settled on quickening my pace. “Don’t see why he didn’t just call Mom to double check.”

June linked her arm through mine, slowing me slightly. “I don’t know why he rang. But… well…” A thoughtful expression set on her face. What was she thinking?

“But, what?” I asked. “Well, I’ve thought about it a bit, and—what if he misses us, Shane?”

 

I laughed dryly. “You’re not serious.”

“I am. I’m not saying he hasn’t been a prick”—I almost tripped hearing that word fly out of my sister’s mouth, it was totally unexpected, and yet to a tee accurate—“But this whole wanting to give us money thing. Maybe he realizes we’re not kids anymore. That soon we’ll have no obligation to see him or even talk to him. It could be it makes him sad.”
I shook my head. “I don’t believe that.”

“You are very harsh on him sometimes.” I stopped mid-step, pulling away from her. Me? I was the harsh one? How could she say that?

 

June sighed. “It’s just, he’s not all bad. He has issues, sure —”

“You didn’t get treated the way I did.” I heard the hurt in my voice, and tried (but failed) to mask it. “It was easier for you. You did everything right.”

She shuffled from foot to foot, and after a moment shrugged. “You’re right of course. I just—what if he’s sorry? If he wants to change? Would you forgive him and move on?”
Change? Would he want to? More to the point,couldhe? Even in the last conversation he’d had a way to make me feel bad. No. This wasn’t about him wanting a second chance with us. Absolutely not. And even if it were, forgive him? Hell, no.

“Just think about it,” June finished, and continued walking toward the bright neon sign ahead.

 

Once we’d ordered and got our food, we found a bench in front of the campus clock tower. Iron wrought lampposts shed a warm light over us as we unpacked our dinner. “Darn it,” June said, scowling at two sets of chopsticks. “They forgot to give us plastic forks.”

Setting our fried noodles between us, I pushed back June’s earlier words and concentrated on the reason we were meeting. And what had hovered over me for days. Where should I start? How? What should I—how did I say I’d fallen for her ex-boyfriend? How could I limit her hurt, her anger? Did I even have a right to?Shiiiit.

The chopsticks slipped between my sweaty, nervous, fingers. I wasn’t the only one having trouble. One of June’s landed on the ground. I picked it up and handed her one of mine.

Noodles slid down my throat, but although they were warm and filled with MSGs, I couldn’t enjoy it. Eating was just a way to prolong—to procrastinate.Just tell her!

June carefully brought a noodle wound around her sticks toward her mouth, but it was fast uncurling and—splat—it landed on the bench. She picked it up and threw it into the bin on her other side.

“If you hold them just a little lower,” I said, showing her my grip on the chopsticks, “you’ll have more control.” She copied my hold and tried again. It wasn’t perfect but it was better. We ate in silence for a bit. I kept taking in large amounts of air, readying myself to say something, but each time my nerve deflated.

“We need to talk—” we said it at the same time. A bizarre moment. Like we had twin telepathy or something. Any other time we might—probably would have laughed, but this time it was as if we both knew the seriousness of what we’d say next.

“Go ahead,” June said, her hand shakily lifting food to her mouth.

I couldn’t do this—couldn’t say it, hear the words, see her face. But I had to, and I would. I ground my jaw together and focused just past her right shoulder. “June, I—”Just tell her. She deserves the truth.“It’s about Trey.”

She leaned back against the bench, twisting her torso —squirming. Uncomfortable or nervous?Both was my bet. “I think I know,” she said quietly. “But I’m ready to hear it now, tell me.”

A glance at her sad face almost shattered me completely. How could I have done this?

“Tell me, Shane.” After a short hesitation where I felt as if I’d been hollowed out, I spoke. Low. “I like him. A lot. We—ah—like each other.” Silence. Had she even heard me?

“How long?” Her voice wavered, but she quickly got it under control. “How long have you felt like this?”

“Since rooming with him.” Defensiveness sucked onto me, I was worried she’d hate me. I couldn’t keep a level head. “I tried to get over it, I did. But it wouldn’t go away. My feelings just got stronger. I didn’t do anything, not a thing I swear, until well after you’d broken up. And I’m so sorry it hurts you June, I know this is fucked up, and—”

She halted me, raising a hand. I knew the gesture so well. Just stop a second,it said. Slowly, she picked up her chopsticks again, pinching food between them. I could almost see her thoughts tumbling around, knew from the way her lip shook she was hurting. “Have you two done anything?” The strained words, her uncertainty at asking at all—I wanted to melt, to disappear.

“Nothing, really.”

Her noodles slipped again. She threw her sticks down. “Nothing, really? What does that mean?at does
“We’ve kissed. That’s—”all.A sob erupted from her and before I could see it happen, she’d picked up the rest of our dinner and dumped it over my head. In shock I sat there a moment as she leapt from the bench.

Then, things clicking into place, I grabbed the packet and scooped the majority of noodles off my hair, chucking them into the bin. I caught up to her. She was sobbing so hard I instinctively pulled her into an embrace, smooshing noodles between us. “I’m so sorry, June, I—I’m just so sorry.”

She cried a bit longer against my shoulder and then wiped her runny nose on my sleeve. “I’m sorry too. I thought I’d handle it better than that. I just—I guess I wasn’t prepared for it. Even though I knew Trey liked you.”

I picked the larger chunks of food off her, not knowing what else to say. Fear clawed into me, so strong I wasn’t sure I wouldn’t throw up. June meant everything to me. She’d always been there. Came to all my hockey games and cheered me on. Helped me study for chemistry and physics —my worst subjects by far. Never laughed at me when I made a fool of myself—yeah, she always showed her compassion. Was never swayed by other’s judgments. She accepted me for who I was. Was there after Ryan for the weeks when I’d felt down.

And then there was Trey. How his thick brown lashes and deep eyes looked into mine, caring, curious, protective. Just being around him was better than touching music. Surreal. Wonderful. What I’d have wished for everyday, if I’d have known such a thing—an amazing thing—existed. Around him my heart beat a million miles a minute.

Don’t ask me to stop this thing with Trey. Don’t ask me to do that.I didn’t want to have to make that decision— because it might, no, itwould—be the one thing I couldn’t do for her.