Shane and Trey[ Enemies to Lovers 01 ] (28 page)
Read Shane and Trey[ Enemies to Lovers 01 ] Online
Authors: Anyta Sunday
“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.
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 knowme 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 whanothe way tot 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…”
“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 fromme.”
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 arenothinglike 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.”
“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?”
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 moti’thad oned the empty shore, letting his gaze linger on a soft patch of grass not too far behind us. “No one’s about.”
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.”
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 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.
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 eyecontact 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 time? I l-likevate captad that a lot. I’ve b-been practicing.”
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 gruntedMmmm 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.
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, (Iwonderwhat 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 svy, till 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?”