He had walked me to a nearby bookstore and bought me a latte. After a long conversation, we found out we had a lot in common, including our love for reading. I’d always been a huge fan of romance novels, whether contemporary, paranormal, or something risqué. Trevor offered me a unique chance to hear a man’s perspective on books, and I got him reading a bunch he’d never heard of. In return, he turned me on to indie music.
Trevor loved playing the acoustic guitar and had an appreciation for undiscovered talent. He wasn’t in a band; singing and playing guitar was just something he did when we were lounging around with nothing to do. It was only later that I found out Trevor was gay—I hadn’t had a clue until he brought up his boyfriend in conversation. I didn’t make a big deal about it and neither did he.
“I’ve got news,” he announced, taking my hand in his. “Do you need something in here or can I take you out for brunch?”
“You don’t have to buy me anything. I had a banana for breakfast.”
“I’m paying.”
“I’m not hungry. Maybe we can…” I glanced around, trying to come up with an alternative.
He gripped my chin and looked down at me. “What’s wrong? Do you need some money?”
“Rose is getting married.”
“No fucking way.” He tugged my arm and hauled me toward the door. “That’s it. We’re talking.”
Instead of brunch, we sat inside his Honda hatchback and played catch-up. Trevor was shocked to learn about Rose’s upcoming nuptials and he gave them a year. I lightly punched him in the arm for being pessimistic and he shook his head, saying all she wanted in Shane was a way out and that kind of relationship didn’t stand a chance.
“Are you living alone in that shithole trailer park in the hood?” he asked. “Please tell me you have a boyfriend staying with you.”
I shook my head.
“Jesus, why didn’t you call me?”
“What’s your big news?”
He shifted in his seat. “I’m moving in with you.”
My eyes widened. “What?”
“My news is I broke up with James and decided to come home because I’ve never seen more repressed people in my life than in that tiny tinker town in the middle of bumfuck—”
“Seriously? What happened between you two? I thought it was going so well.”
He shrugged and adjusted the vents. “That’s why I haven’t e-mailed in a couple of weeks. I was living in my car for two days before I decided to come back home. It just wasn’t right. Now I’m here with no job, no place to live, and I have to start from square effing one.”
“What about Lucy?” She was mutual friend we’d met at a party years ago who thought she could convert Trevor into a straight man with her magical vagina.
“No good. Long story short, her boyfriend thinks I’m pretending to be gay to get in her panties.”
“She wishes,” I muttered.
“I have to leave for a couple of days,” he said, picking at the steering wheel with his finger. “I zipped out of there in a hurry, but now I regret the hell out of it because I left some personal shit there I need to get back—like my Gibson, all my plants, and my model airplanes.”
Trevor was a curious guy. He played guitar, partied with the best of them, but in his downtime, he liked to unwind by flipping on a bright desk lamp and assembling model airplanes that came in a billion pieces. He once told me a hobby like that taught a man control and patience, and that’s something he needed in his life.
“Will he give them back to you?”
Trevor sighed and grunted all at once, throwing his head back and staring at the roof. “James isn’t a total jerk. I just didn’t want to deal with seeing him again.” He rolled his head in my direction and patted my leg. “You mind if I stay with you? Say no and I’m parking my car by the barbecue grill and setting up camp. Why don’t you sell it and move to a safe apartment complex?”
“No one in their right mind would buy that old thing,” I said with a laugh. “I wouldn’t get anything for it and besides, it’s paid for in full and I’m actually saving money by living there. Apartments are expensive these days with all those deposits.”
“Seriously, babe, that’s a scary fucking trailer park. And the guy with the gnome collection who lives down the road?”
“Mr. Potter?”
“He waters his lawn naked. That man needs to be introduced to a razor and a pair of pants. It’s fucking creepy. If you say he’s a nice guy, then I’m throwing your books in the river.”
I frowned and gazed sullenly out the window.
“What did I say wrong?”
I watched a few stray sprinkles catch on the glass. “Last week it rained so hard that it leaked in the trailer when I was sleeping. Water got all over my favorite books that were stacked in the corner of my bedroom.”
“Oh, shit no.”
“Ruined about thirty of my favorites. Some of them I salvaged, but the rest wound up with wrinkled paper and warped covers. I had another stack in the living room, so it wasn’t a total loss.”
“E-readers, babe.”
I rolled my eyes. “Books aren’t a big priority at the moment.”
“Damn.”
“What?”
Trevor leaned across me, so close to my face that I could smell his hair.