“For me it was Hamburger Helper.” Raw emotion flashes in his eyes. Grief, sadness. A hint of shame, maybe. But he blinks, and it’s gone again.
“Did you eat?” If I keep asking questions, maybe he won’t leave me alone with all these racing thoughts I wish I could ignore. I want to tell him about Luis Rojas before he meets the man tomorrow. But I have no idea how to evenstartthe conversation.
Trevor leans against the door jamb and shoves his hands into his pockets. “I ate.”
I pick up one of the arepas and take a messy bite, causing a dollop of crema to fall directly onto my chest, just above the tank. Trevor’s gaze snaps to my fingers as I hurriedly swipe the mess up with a napkin.
And then he adjusts himself. Oh God. It’s subtle—the motion of his hips. But it’s there. And now my eyes want to stray below his belt. This is ridiculous. “Will you just sit down? Please?”
It’s self-defense. That’s what I tell myself. If he’s sitting across from me, I won’t be able to ogle him.
“I need to get organized for tomorrow,” he says, but he doesn’t leave, and I angle my head towards the chair.
“Trevor, you are the most infuriating man on the planet.”
A dry laugh bursts from his lips. “No, I'm pretty sure that title goes to Ryker McCabe.”
“Who?”
“A guy I've worked with a time or two. You'll meet him someday.”
Arching my brows, I ask, “Is he going to refuse to talk to me too? Warn me now, because I don’t like feeling like a fool for asking.”
“Fine. ’ll be right back.” Two minutes later, he sets two beers on the table, one for each of us, and pulls a bottle opener from his pocket. “The mini-bars here are well-stocked.”
“Thanks. I needed this.” I hold up the bottle and offer to toast, and reluctantly, Trevor touches the neck of his beer to mine. “You’re pretty damn considerate, you know that?”
He chokes on his sip of beer and his hand flies to his nose. Passing him a napkin, I try to hide my smile as he swipes at his face. “Considerate?” His voice is hoarse, and he takes another swig before he manages to speak again. “What does that even mean?”
Leaning forward and resting my elbows on the table, I meet his gaze. “It means you’re dancing around me like I’m on fire and you’re Frosty the Snowman. I don’t bite, Trev. You won’t melt if you engage innormal, humanconversation with me.”
He sits back and runs his fingers through his hair. It’s so ingrained in him—that motion. Whenever he needs to think. The motion causes his bicep to strain against his t-shirt and exposes a long scar on the back of his arm that I’ve never seen before. Then again, I’ve hardly laid eyes on him in almost a decade. Not since he stood me up and left me sobbing at the summit of East Rock.
After he blows out a long, slow breath, Trevor meets my gaze. “I don’t know how,” he says, his voice almost a whisper. “Dani, I killed—“
“I know!” Shoving my plate aside, I stalk over to the window and peer out a crack in the drapes. The city stretches out before me, a mix of bright lights and patches of total darkness—the division between the rich and the poor. “I’ll never forget what happened to Gil, but how many times do I need to tell you that I don’t blame you for it?”
“At least a thousand more.”
In my periphery, he stands, but before he can reach the door between our two rooms, I catch up to him. This time, though, I don’t touch him. Just side step him so I’m blocking his path, cross my arms, and stare up at him. “Count them. I don’t blame you. I don’t blame you. I don’t blame you. That’s three. I figure I can get to a thousand in what? An hour?”
“Stop. Don’t make me into something—or someone—I’m not. Please, Danisaur. I’m not a hero. I’m not a good man. Or at least I’m not good for…you.” The last word escapes harsh and rough, and combined with the use of my old nickname, I can feel myself dancing with the edge of control. My eyes burn, and I duck around him, letting him flee back to the safety of his own space. At the last moment, right before I slam the door, his hand shoots out and presses flat to the wood. “My rules, remember? This stays unlocked and cracked. All night.”
“Don’t you remember anything from high school, TJ? I never follow the rules.” Batting his hand away, I shut the door firmly and flip the lock.
At least he left both beers. I think I’m going to need them.
Chapter Eight
Trevor
I staredat the ceiling for two hours before I fell asleep, and my dreams…they left me feeling hollow. Over and over again, I relived the night I broke Dani’s heart.
All for nothing. Out of fear and misplaced trust in a man I should have known was no longer my friend.
I can’t stop thinking about that tattoo on her hip. The coordinates are burned into my brain, and when I hear her moving around in the other room, I boot up my tablet and enter them into a search engine.
“Oh, fuck.”
