“As you always do,” I say.
He lifts his head, and his eyes focus on mine. “Yeah,” he says. “I didn’t. I wish I did, but I couldn’t.”
“You can’t blame yourself for that,” I whisper. “Not when it comes to that day.”
“I will always blame myself for that. I’m the weak one who walked away. I should have stayed and fought for you. But never again, Cidney. Never fucking again.”
His words come out as a whisper, but that whisper is like a touch that slides over my skin, goose bumps prickling in its wake. God. This man. I don’t know if he realizes what he does to me.
Then again, maybe he does.
“I want to be inside you, Cidney. My good girl. But I know you need time. Just know I want you. I’ll always want you. And I will die to protect you.”
I want him too, so badly. But I don’t tell him that, not in the bakery, not with Posey, Dakota, and Lainey watching. I slip my tongue out and slide it across my bottom lip, then let out a heavy sigh, which is more like a long exhale.
Trent leans forward slightly, so I do the same, and that’s when I whisper. The words come out, and I’m not sure how or why they do, but they do, and I just let them flow, unable to stop them.
“I love you, Trent. I don’t know when I’ll be able to show that to you, but I do. I loved you before you left, and I’ll love you until the day I die. I’m not sure I would have ever known love had I not met you, Trent.”
“Fuck,” he hisses. “I love you too, Cidney. Every ounce of you. I’ll wait a lifetime for you. A whole fucking lifetime.”
I’m not able to get a single word out. He leans forward and touches his mouth to mine, and then I feel his tongue slide across the seam of my lips. Parting them slightly, I whimper as he tastes me—all of me.
Perfection.
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
CIDNEY
I wishI could show Trent how much I truly do love him, but I’m not sure when I’ll be able to do that. For now, it’ll be stolen kisses in bakeries. He stands from his seat, holding his palm out for me to take. I do. Though shakily. Standing, I clear my throat as I move with him.
I’m not sure where he’s taking me or where we’re going, but it’s with him, so I’ll always follow. Trent stops, and I watch as he turns his head toward the counter. “I’m taking her on a ride,” he calls out.
“Have her back before dark, or whenever you feel like it,” Lainey cries, giving us a wave goodbye.
Trent takes me outside, and I can’t help but think about the fact that I’m thinking about him as Trent right now instead of Goose. Maybe that’s because I see him differently. The man who looked across the table of the bakery into my eyes is not Goose.
He is Trent.
My Trent.
We walk toward the bike, and only when we stand at the side does he turn to face me. His gaze flicks down to meet mine. My breath hitches as I wait for him to say something. His lips twitch into a smirk as his gaze searches my own.
“We’re going on a ride. I will take you back to Lainey’s after, but only until we get our own place.”
I open my mouth to tell him that I’m not sure about that. The hesitation is clearly written on my face, and I know he senses it. He doesn’t act fazed by it, though. Instead, his lips curve up into a small smile as he lifts his hand to cup my cheek. His thumb slides across my bottom lip, his gaze never breaking mine.
“I don’t know if I’m ready for that,” I whisper.
“Cidney,” he murmurs. “There is nothing for you to be ready for. Nothing is going to happen until you say it can happen. I’m not going to pretend I know what you’re going through, what you went through, but I do know that I want a future with you, and pushing you to do something you’re not ready for will not be good for our future. Today, we go for a ride. Tomorrow, maybe another kiss.”
And that’s that.
He straddles his bike, holding his hand out for me. The conversation is over, and I have to admit that I’m glad for it. I’m not sure what else I was going to say. Maybe I need to just feel the wind in my face for a little while.
Climbing onto the bike behind him, I wrap my arms around his waist and press my cheek against his back as I hold on to him tightly, probably too tightly, but I don’t care. The bike roars to life, and then we’re gone.
The trees seem to move as he speeds us through downtown and on the way toward the mountains. The bike becomes one with the curves of the road, and I can’t help but let it wash over me.
