But it wasn’t.
Because every time he touched me, I found myself comparing it to that brief moment when Kent’s arms had been around me. Every time he smiled, I wondered what it would feel like if my stepbrother smiled at me like that.Reallysmiled, not the sardonic half-smirk he usually gave me.
I was so fucked.
On screen, something exploded in a ball of fire. The audience around us jumped. Trevor’s hand tightened on mine. I felt nothing.
“You okay?” Trevor whispered, leaning close enough that his breath tickled my ear.
“Yeah, just... this movie is intense.”
It wasn’t. Or maybe it was. I genuinely had no idea.
He grinned and turned back to the screen, satisfied with my answer. I stared at our joined hands and felt like the world’s biggest asshole.
The thing was, I’d spent so many years hating Kent. It had been easy, comfortable even. He’d given me plenty of reasons. There were the homophobic comments, the casual cruelty, andthe way he’d made my life hell when I was already struggling to figure out who I was. Hating him had been simple.
But this? Whatever this was? This was complicated and messy and completely terrifying.
Because at some point over the past week, something had shifted. Maybe it started when he showed up on my doorstep looking broken. Maybe it was when he stood up to his father for me. Or maybe it was earlier than that, buried under years of resentment, waiting for the right moment to surface.
The credits started rolling. I hadn’t even noticed the movie ending.
“That was awesome,” Trevor said, standing and stretching. “What’d you think?”
“It was... yeah. Awesome.” I had no idea if that was the right answer, but Trevor seemed pleased.
We filed out with the rest of the crowd, still holding hands as we made our way to his car. The night air was cool against my face, a welcome relief from the stuffiness of the theater.
“You want to hang out at my apartment when we get back?” Trevor asked as we reached his car. His expression was hopeful, and I knew exactly what he was asking.
A week ago, I would have said yes without hesitation. Hell, even a few days ago, I probably would have. But now, standing here with this genuinely nice guy who deserved better than someone who couldn’t stop thinking about his stepbrother, I couldn’t do it.
“Actually,” I said slowly, pulling my hand free. “I think I need to head home.”
Trevor’s face fell slightly. “Oh. Okay. Everything alright?”
“Yeah, I just... I have an early morning tomorrow.” The lie tasted bitter on my tongue.
“Sure, no problem.” He smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Let me drive you back then.”
The drive to my apartment was quiet, filled with a tension that hadn’t been there before. Trevor tried to make conversation. He talked about the movie, asked about my week, but my responses were distracted, one-word answers that eventually petered out into silence.
When we got back to the apartment, he turned off the car, but neither of us got out.
“James,” he said carefully. “Did I do something wrong?”
“What? No. God, no.” I turned to face him, guilt churning in my stomach. “You’ve been great. Really.”
“But?”
I hesitated, trying to find the right words. “But I think I need to figure some things out. Personal stuff. It’s not fair to you if I’m not all here.”
Trevor was quiet for a moment, his hands still on the steering wheel. “Is this about your stepbrother?”
My heart stopped. “What?”
“Kent. You’ve mentioned him a few times, and you get this... I don’t know, this look on your face when you talk about him.” He finally turned to look at me, and there was concern in his eyes that made me want to sink through the floor. “He’s not hurting you or anything, is he? I know you said you didn’t really get along.”
