Trevor reaches for Banks, giving him a kiss on the head before setting him on the ground. A tendon in his neck jumps as he takes a slow inhale, pausing. I’m about to ask if I stink whenhis warm hand slips beneath my hair, cradling my neck as I’m pulled into his steady chest.
The sensation is so comforting tears spring to my eyes. The whisk clatters to the ground when I give up on any pretenses of having it together and bury my face into the crook of his neck, gripping the sides of his shirt like a lifeline. Trevor’s other arm wraps around my back, binding us together in a way that shouldn’t be this soul satiating.
I don’t cry like I’d expected myself to. I just try to pair my erratic breathing to Trevor’s slow cadence. He’s inconceivably warm and smells like our shared laundry soap with a hint of something else. Sun-warmed pine straw? It reminds me of summers running through the forest that stretched beyond the fields.
Has Trevor always smelled this good?
“I think I need to get out more,” I say, not moving, though I should really let my poor roommate go. Trevor probably didn’t expect this level of hot mess when he got home from work. I should pull back, apologize, and go on a quick cleaning bender.
Instead, I listen to Trevor’s steady heartbeat as he says, “Yeah?”
“I don’t mean outside, as in working in the garden. I mean, in life. I love being at home, but I think maybe I should have spent my college years going out instead of puzzling with my parents on the weekends.”
“But you love puzzling.”
It’s become our tradition to keep a puzzle on the dining room table, taking a few minutes to work on it each day. Sometimes, I’ll finish it or Trevor will, and then we start another. It’s like an ongoing chess game, but for puzzles.
“I know, but—”
A harsh exhale leaves my mouth because I can’t put into words how being dumped fornotfollowingdirections makes me want to burn everything to the ground. That’s why the house is a mess. I’ve always done the right thing, but now I want to…I don’t know. Let loose maybe? Try new things? I’m not even sure where to start.
I lean back, catching Trevor’s gaze. “What do you do for fun?”
His dark brows knit together, forming a perfect crease in the middle. “What do you mean?”
“When you’re not spending every second of every day dedicated to baseball, what do you do?”
My roommate looks at me like he’s not sure where this is going, but he answers anyway. “I like to take the boat out.”
That’s right. I forgot Trevor likes to go deep sea fishing in his nonexistent free time. He offered to take me when I first moved in, but I have a healthy fear of the ocean. No need tovolunteeras a shark appetizer. Though I moved here to livebythe ocean, I have no desire to go deep into it. The sea’s splendor can easily be enjoyed from the safety of the sand with a surplus of SPF. Also,I get carsick easily, so I’ll probably get seasick being that far away from land.
“Okay, let’s do that. I’m pretty sure sharks don’t like redheads anyway.”
Trevor’s low chuckle sends a weird tingling sensation down my spine. “Don’t you get seasick?”
He remembered that? I disentangle myself from his arms, trying to get my bearings since I’m feeling a little off kilter with my feet solidly on the hardwood. Banks weaves through my legs, and I pick him up as a fluffy shield—against what, I’m not sure.
“If it’s too much trouble…” I start.
“No trouble. It’s supposed to be nice tomorrow. Want to head out at ten?” He waits a beat before adding, “Wait. Can you make that work? I wouldn’t want to mess with your schedule. You’re probably slammed with the end of tax season so close.”
A memory flares in the back of my mind, of Aaron being annoyed that I’d prioritized finishing out client work on his day off weeks ago. He’d wanted me to have lunch with him at noon, and I asked if we could eat at one instead so I could finish a filing. In the end, I caved after Aaron reminded me that my job is more flexible than his. It was fine. It would have been more enjoyable spending time with him without that task over my head, but since Aaron only gets one day off a week and usually only an hour of that day for me, I understood.
My head shakes for two seconds before I can manage an answer. “I finished the last of my pro bono cases today. I’m goingto ask Cameron if he has any more, but my official tax season is done early this year.”
“Congratulations!” Trevor smiles. “That’s huge. We should celebrate.”
I wave a hand. “No. I really don’t feel like celebrating, I just want to…” That sticky sensation pricks down my forearms, and I huff in frustration. “I don’t know what I want to do.”
“Let’s try being on the water. That always clears my head.” Trevor moves past me into the kitchen and pulls an electrolyte replacement bottle out of the fridge. “We can pick up some seasickness medicine on the way to the marina.”
After gulping down the whole bottle, he gestures toward Banks. “Has he needed extra snuggles today?”
I glance at the sweet kitty pawing at a loose seam at my collar. “I have. He’s sort of been my emotional support animal the last few days.”
Trevor nods, a steely darkness clouding his gaze before he visibly brightens, looking more like my affable roommate than he has since he walked in the door. “I’m making grilled cheese. Want some?”
The rest of our evening passes amicably, just like it has for over a year. Trevor makes mouthwatering grilled Gruyere-and-cheddar sandwiches with caramelized onions that we eat in the kitchen. He completely ignores me when I tell himnot to helpme pick up the house. And when Trevor starts to yawn, probablyexhausted from six straight games and air travel, I tell him to get some sleep, and we head to our separate parts of the house.
