“I want to apologise.”
“There’s really no need.”
“I said I want to, Reya.”
“Trev, you really don’t have to. Please. It’s in the past. We’ve both moved on with our lives. I don’t eat strawberries anymore, and you, well, you—”
“I,” Trev started, “am in therapy like I should’ve been years ago.”
I stopped walking and turned to face him. “You are?”
He exhaled heavily. “I am.”
“How long?”
He started counting fingers. “Six months, give or take.”
I blew out a breath. “Wow.”
His expression intensified. “It’s been . . . a learning curve.”
I nodded and stared at him, my mind wandering. Two years ago, he’d confessed to me that he had ADHD and that he was going to start treatment. It had gone undiagnosed for years. My heart hurt for him at the time, and I remembered the feeling. Starting treatment didn’t exactly pan out like he’d planned, but I couldn’t blame him. He’d been handed way too many things at once, and sometimes adults could be spoiled just the same as children.
Trev’s gaze wandered from my eyes, down my nose to rest on my lips. Cold air kissed my neck and I shivered, though more from the way he was looking at me. Suddenly, I was transported back to another time when he’d looked at me that way . . .
Two.
Past.
I was drunk.
That’s what happened when there was free booze doing the rounds. I was at a party to celebrate Trev’s TV show getting the green light, and had just taken a step outside to get some air. I could barely get a moment alone with my friend . . . boyfriend? I still wasn’t too sure what exactly was going on with us.
It wasn’t like we had any time to talk, I thought bitterly.
Ever since he received that phone call a few days ago he’d been swept up in an impenetrable whirlwind. He had to cancel our lunch plans, and this party was the first time I clapped eyes on him since. Friends and industry people surrounded him, so I decided I’d entertain myself. Things would calm down soon enough.
I hoped.
I stood by a wall in the busy smoking area just as a voice whispered from behind. “Fuck, I missed you.”
Familiar arms wrapped around me and I turned to stare up at him. “Who died and made you Justin Bieber?” He chuckled as I went on, “And I missed you, too, by the way.”
Trev smirked and it did something to my downstairs. “You’re drunk.”
“That’s what happens when all I’ve got is Prosecco to keep me company,” I said and fiddled with his collar. “Everyone wants a piece of you.” I pouted. Pouting is not something I’d be seen dead doing if I weren’t intoxicated, just FYI.
“It’ll cool off,” Trev murmured as he backed me up into the wall.
I lifted a brow. “Will it though?”
“Of course. Why wouldn’t it?”
“You don’t see yourself like I do,” I said. “Once you’re on TV, other people are going to see it, too. You’re going to become hugely famous, Trev. It’ll be even worse.”
“It won’t. I’ll make sure of it,” he said firmly.
I wanted to believe him, really, I did. But the feverish excitement in his eyes said otherwise. He loved this, loved the attention. Being the belle of the ball was what Trev lived for, and I couldn’t tell if it was a symptom of his condition or just a part of his personality.
“Promise?”
“I promise,” he whispered as his hands drifted down to cup my arse. His voice was still low as he went on. “I’m going to fuck you so hard.”
My thighs clenched instinctively at his carnal promise. Him speaking to me so explicitly was very new, and it had a heady effect. I was under his spell, so much so I didn’t even bother looking around to see if anyone was eavesdropping.
“Do it then,” I goaded, staring him dead in the eyes.
His hands wandered lower, dipping beneath the hem of my mini-dress to dance along my thighs. I swallowed tightly, arousal swarming me, and dared him with my gaze. He accepted the challenge and a second later his fingers were inside my underwear, trailing along my wetness.
“Christ.” Trev dropped his face to the crook of my neck. “You’re not going to remember your own name once I’m done with you,” he warned and then his hand was gone. He fixed my dress back into place before anyone noticed and took a step away. “Give me thirty minutes to finish schmoozing then we’ll head to yours, yeah?” His voice was husky.
I blushed and looked at him from beneath my lashes. “Okay.”
“I want to kiss you so badly, but I know if I do I won’t stop,” he said, stepping away all the while. I nodded and he slipped back inside the club. I slumped down onto a bench and accepted a cigarette from one of the other partygoers. I wasn’t a smoker, but I lit up anyway. I needed something to take the edge off my arousal. Though why I thought nicotine had that ability, I couldn’t tell you.
Thirty minutes passed but Trev didn’t resurface. After more than an hour I wandered around the club searching for him. I eventually found him at a booth surrounded by fancily dressed people. TV people, therefore strangers to me. But new admirers to him. When I managed to catch Trev’s eye he at least had the decency to look apologetic.
I’d sobered up a bit and was feeling tired, so I pulled out my phone and shot off a text.
Reya: Let’s take a rain check, okay? I’ll come see you tomorrow. Gonna head home now.
I was already in a taxi by the time he texted back.
Trevor: I’m so fucking sorry, Reyrey. I’ll make this up to you. I mean it.
I didn’t bother replying because I knew he was swamped. I’d see him tomorrow and everything would be different.
Yes, tomorrow everything would be . . . different.
Three.
“If I could go back, there’s so much I’d change.”
We were just down the street from my flat. I should tell Trev goodbye, say it was nice to see him, even though it had been anything but. It was confusing and painful, and most concerning, thrilling.
“You don’t need to say that. Whatever happened was meant to be. We were never supposed to work out, and that’s all there is to it,” I said and watched his features turn to stone. He looked like he didn’t agree and his jaw ticked.
I started to walk again and he followed. We’d just reached my building when he asked, “Have you been seeing anyone?”
The question made my heart burn and my palms grow sweaty. “There was someone but . . .”
His head tilted eagerly. “But?”
“He ended it,” I answered, not bothering to lie.
“Dumb bastard.”
I laughed softly. “He was actually pretty clever, worked as an archivist in Westminster.”
“Smart people can be dumb, too, you know,” said Trev.
I put my hand on the gate and bent my neck to look at him. “True, but that wasn’t the case with David. He was clever in every way. I just couldn’t seem to give him what he wanted.” I trailed off because I was revealing far too much. What are you doing, Reya?
“What did he want?” Trev seemed fascinated.
“What do we all want?” I asked back. “Love.”
“You didn’t love him?”
I shook my head. “I wanted to.”