“So tell me,” she went on, making a sweeping hand gesture.
Karla shot her a hard look but strangely I didn’t mind talking about it. The past two days I’d been a bubbling pot of unresolved feelings and I wanted to get them out. That was often the drawback of living alone. There was no one to vent to.
“You probably know by now that Trev has ADHD,” I started. He’d been resistant to telling his family at first, but like most things, it all eventually came out. “It was undiagnosed for a long time, because well, you know how things were for the family growing up.” I paused and shared a look with Sophie, but she didn’t seem offended by me mentioning her childhood. Trev and his brothers, alongside Sophie, had managed to evade social services as kids and instead found a way to survive on their own. That way involved stealing cars and working for a dangerous criminal, but that was a story for another day.
Concentrating back on the topic at hand, I continued, “It’s why he’s always been such a livewire, hard to pin down. He found out around the time he got offered to do the show, and he’d planned on starting treatment but . . . it didn’t work out so well.”
“Why not?” Alexis asked, frowning.
I exhaled a long breath. Karla and Sophie were already aware of Trev’s situation, but it was news to Alexis and Andie. “Well, he started taking medication and seeing a therapist, but he hated how the pills made him feel. After a couple of weeks, he stopped taking them completely. Everyone he worked with turned a blind eye because when Trev’s on a high it makes for great TV. I’m sure all of you know how captivating he is to watch.” I paused and took a sip of the wine Karla poured for me. “Anyway, he might as well have been living on another planet back then. I couldn’t keep up. It only hurt to be with him but never truly have him, you know? So I decided it was best to end it.”
“And how did Trevor feel about that?” Andie questioned.
I swallowed. “He got angry but I think he knew it was never going to work. I think he loved his new life too much to sacrifice any of it for me.”
A silence fell. Sophie was the one to break it when she said, “My cousin’s a twat.”
“He wasn’t well,” said Karla, ever the mother of the group. “You know that, Sophie. He’s getting better now.”
What she said piqued my interest. “Is he?” I asked.
Her eyes came to me. “Yes, he’s been adamant about making a change. I’ve never seen him so determined. There’s a new maturity to him. I’m sure you noticed it at lunch.”
“I did. I guess I’ve been wondering if it’s real.”
“It’s real, hon. I didn’t tell you because I know you don’t like talking about him, but he had a very hard time of it last year. Everything got out of control. He realised he couldn’t keep living how he was.”
“What happened?” Alexis enquired, and I was glad she asked. I was dying to know and wondered if it had something to do with his mysterious girlfriend, Nicole.
Karla’s mouth formed a tight line. “That’s not my story to tell.”
Great, now she was keeping schtum. The more I discovered about Trev and the changes he was making, the more I wanted to know. And wanting to know stuff about Trevor Cross was a recipe for trouble.
“How about we crack open the nail polish?” Sophie suggested. “I’m in the mood for some hot pink, who wants to do mine?”
“I will,” I volunteered, glad for the distraction. Two hours and four bottles of wine later we were all merry and talking boisterously about which Viking we’d like to . . . see more of. It was only when I heard the front door open that I snapped into alertness. My nails were painted a shade titled ‘Mango Madness’ and it seemed apt for how I felt when Lee, Stu and Trev walked into the living room.
“This place smells like booze and acetone. You ladies sure know how to party,” Lee commented with a wry grin.
I sat up straight and my eyes connected with Trev’s almost instantly. He stood by the door, his attention leisurely moving over my form before returning to my face. He gave a nod of acknowledgment, but I didn’t return it. Couldn’t. I hadn’t expected him to show up, and now I was far too tipsy to deal with his presence in a ladylike fashion.
Stu sat down next to Andie, meaning I had to scoot to the edge of the couch. Lee slid in beside Karla and Trev perched on the armrest right next to me. I braced myself and stayed quiet. The others chatted while I tried not to do or say anything unwise, in other words—wine fuelled. I could sense Trev’s attention on me.
“So, what’ve you all been up to?” Stu asked.
“Having pillow fights and swapping sex stories?” Trev suggested saucily.
“Yes, Trevor,” Karla sighed. “That is exactly what we were doing.”
“Wishful thinking.” He winked and held up his hands.
“How did the game go?” Karla asked, and I realised they must’ve been off seeing a football match.
“We won 3-1,” Lee answered proudly and placed a kiss on her temple. He went into more detail but I zoned out, as I was prone to when sport was the topic of conversation.
“I like your boots,” said Trev quietly, nodding to my feet.
“Thanks,” I answered stiffly, not meeting his eyes.
“They look like something Santa would wear.”
“Everybody knows Santa’s boots are black,” I replied tersely.
“Not true. The world thinks he wears a red suit when in fact, his original getup was green. He could very well have worn brown boots.”
“Keep talking. I’m fascinated,” I deadpanned, and his expression warmed with humour even though I was being a salty bitch. He did always take a perverse pleasure in my sour moods.
“You need a lift home or anything?”
His offer took me off guard. “Um, no, that’s okay. Thanks.”
“You sure? I’m not drinking much these days so I’m well used to being the designated driver.”
I arched a brow and turned to look at him. “You aren’t?”
“Nope. I’m trying the whole ‘my body is a temple’ shtick.” He gestured to the fitted, long-sleeved T-shirt he wore. “You think it’s working?”
I couldn’t help my scoff. Trev had always been a zero-per cent-body-fat type. He never even had to try. I would say it made me sick, if I didn’t enjoy looking at him so much. I was the opposite. I only had to glance at a cake and I put on five pounds. I had to work out and watch what I ate simply to keep out of the obesity range. My sister, Paula, used to say I had childbearing hips, but they were cake hips and we both knew it.
Thoughts of my sister had a different sort of ache swelling inside me but I tried my best to push it aside. It was always a sore spot when any of my family wheedled their way into my head.
“I’m pretty sure you know the answer to that question already,” I finally replied. There was a sharpness in my voice I hadn’t intended, but it came out anyway.
“True, but sometimes it’s nice to be told.”
“Fine, your body is quite the temple. Happy?”