#Rev (GearShark #2)

“Just tonight.” I agreed, turning slightly so I could look at him with my good eye.

The second I moved, he adjusted, folding his legs in front of him between us, his knees brushing against my side. The ice pack against my face stayed firmly in place with the perfect amount of pressure. Not so much it hurt, but enough to do the job.

Honestly, I wasn’t doing this just for him. I wanted it, too. Just having him beside me felt like bliss.

Ignorance is bliss.

Pretending is denial.

I hated both.

But in this moment, I hated reality more.

Drew’s long-fingered hand slid across my abs. The muscles quivered beneath his touch. My eye slid closed as I reveled in the feel of him against me.

Funny how I’d only lived with his touch for a week, such a short amount of time in the span of my entire life. But it eclipsed all others. How quickly it became the most singular desired sensation I’d ever known.

No one would ever touch me the way he did. No one would ever electrify and soothe me at the very same time the way Drew did.

Carefully, he tugged at my arm still folded over my side. I fought the request a single second, in a slight moment of panic.

It almost seemed like my arm was holding my entire self together, like it was somehow a guard to the deepest part of myself.

It was too late to try and guard myself. Drew had already slipped past all my defenses.

My arm slid down and my palm fell open. He tangled our fingers together, wrapped his around mine, and rested them over my abdomen.

Beneath my fractured ribs, my heart ached. It ached with love and loss.

“Don’t think about it,” Drew whispered as if he could read my mind.

It was unsettling, and I glanced at him. My thoughts had always been my own. No one had ever been able to read them before.

He nodded. He could.

“Tonight is ours,” he reminded me, the pad of his thumb stroking over the back of my hand.

I gave in completely. I surrendered it all.

Maybe I shouldn’t have, but like I said… As much as I hated pretending, sometimes pretending was a beautiful lie.





Drew

Trent was not easy.

In fact, Trent was about as easy as asking a hive of bees for their honey.

I wasn’t talking about on the surface, because in that sense, T was easy. He got along with everyone (except Lorhaven) and he made everyone feel at ease in his presence. I used to think it was because that’s just the way he was; he had that kind of personality everyone meshed with.

Maybe some of it was that. But it was more.

He was more. Trent had a quiet understanding about him. A quiet way of making everyone feel accepted. He left people better than when he found them. Whether it were as simple as a kind word, a smile, or a listening ear. His quiet demeanor wasn’t a flaw; it worked to his advantage. Those who listened were far wiser than those who only spoke.

I’d been learning about him since the day we met. I hadn’t always realized it or even known it was happening, but now I did. It was like being taught how to tie a shoe, not being able to get the hang of it until one day I created a bow.

Today was my bow.

It might be a little crooked, it might be a little loose, but it was a bow all the same.

Trent was so understanding because he himself wasn't understood. He had the ability to make people feel at ease with themselves because he knew what it was like to be conflicted. He listened because his mind was the loudest, and he accepted others because he himself felt unaccepted.

How much of himself had he sacrificed over the years? How selfless could one man be before it became detrimental to his own well-being?

The surprise in his hazel eyes when he realized I understood how he was feeling was genuine. So was the fear. It made me equal parts determined and sad. Sad because he was so used to protecting himself, silently observing, that he didn’t know how to react when he realized all this time, I’d been silently observing him. It was glaringly obvious no one had ever taken the time to learn how the true Trent ticked.

Or maybe others had tried.

Others had failed.

I was determined. Determined to show him I wasn’t like everyone else. I wasn’t going to let him push me away. I was going to give him all the consideration he gave me.

Starting with tonight.

Though he’d never admit it, the fact he gave in and agreed to being here like this was proof he wanted me.

We just sat for a while, my knees pressed against his side as I held the ice to his face with one hand and wrapped the other around his. The sight of his injuries was physically painful for me. The bruises and the dried smears of blood were reminders of the way he’d looked when my headlights first illuminated his body in that parking lot.

I don’t think a person can ever be prepared for that. For seeing someone they love—someone who had never been anything but strong and capable—look so broken.

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