“Trevor—“
“No.” I settle back into my seat with her held firmly in my lap. “We’re talking about this. Right now. We have another seven hours on this plane, and I won’t spend the entire time worried about you.”
“I told you, I’m—“
“Fine. I know. Except you’re not.” I run my thumb over one of her dark brows. “When you’re mad, there’s a tiny muscle right here that ticks.” Pressing my lips to the spot, I let my hand trail down to the side of her neck. “And this tendon, right here?” Another kiss, and I draw back to find heat and an emotion I can only describe as overwhelm churning in her eyes. “It tightens whenever you want to cry.”
She starts to argue, but I hold my finger to her lips. Her gaze threatens to stop me, but dammit, I want a future with this woman, and that means we both have to stop being afraid to let the other in.
“I get it, Dani. You’re one of the few people who understands how I used to let myself hope every time I moved to a new foster home. And how all that hope would vanish a month later when I’d be too much trouble or something would go wrong with the adoption paperwork or I’d do something stupid to get myself kicked. You go through that shit enough, you start hiding your feelings from everyone.”
That tendon starts to tense—just a bit—and there’s a shimmer to her eyes that wasn’t there when we sat down. “I’m not going anywhere, baby. I’ll never break your trust again.”
Gently, I slide my knuckle up and down the side of her neck, trying to massage away the tension and tell her that Iseeher. The real her.
“Let me in.”
“I don’t know how,” she whispers, and the dam that was so close to breaking repairs itself in a single heartbeat. “This is who I am, Trevor. I’m always okay. If you can’t accept that…”
The rumble in my chest sounds almost feral, and surprises me as much as it surprises her. Surging forward, I claim her lips, and the passion that meets my kiss makes my entire body ache with desire. “I’ll take you…” I say as I come up for air, “any way I can have you.”
Dani grinds her hips against me, and fuck, I wish these seats offered a little more privacy. Her hands move to the hem of my t-shirt, and a little bump of turbulence reminds me where we are.
“No.” I take her wrists and pin them behind her so she’s forced to look at me. “Not here. Not like this. The first time I get you naked, we’re going to be in my bed. Not at thirty-five thousand feet with an armed flight attendant ten feet away.”
“Who says we have to be naked?” Dani’s hooded gaze almost destroys my resolve, but I shake my head.
“I do. There’s no halfway with me, Dani. It’s all or nothing.”
With a huff, she relaxes, and I loosen my hold so she can go back to her seat, hating how much the absence of her warmth affects me. After she’s buckled back in, she meets my gaze. “I trust you with my life, Trevor. I hope you know that.”
“I do. But if this is going to work long term, you have to trust me with your heart too.”
Her lips purse, then curve into a frown, and as she pulls her tablet closer, she says quietly, “I know.”
* * *
Dani
Curling my legs up in the plush, leather seat, I read over the draft of my article. Trevor’s staring out the window, and has been since our little fight. Hell, I don’t even know if itwasa fight. I want to go to him and apologize, except, I don’t know that I’m sorry. Every boyfriend I’ve ever had—not that I’ve had many—has ended things with me when I refused to “open up.”
But I don’t have anything to open up about. Nothing that anyone wants to hear, anyway. The dozen foster homes Gil and I rotated through until I was in the sixth grade? The last one where he got a beating for failing to turn his homework in on time? Or what about his death? How he chose his birth father—a man he’d never met whorapedour mother—over me? Over everything?
Trevor knows all of that. Hell, he knows more about me than anyone—except maybe Austin.
I study his profile. After five days on the road, his thick stubble is now a full beard, and it makes him look older, more distinguished. His brown eyes have always carried a hint of sadness—or maybe resignation. Whatever the look, it comes from spending so long in the system. Despite his confidence, his skills, his quick mind, I don’t think he ever believes he’s good enough. We have that in common, at least.
Returning my focus to the tablet in front of me, I work a ball of thinking putty between my fingers. The pink sparkles catch the sunlight from time to time, and I go over everything my birth father said to me in the short time we had together.
“What did Luis mean when he said ‘I did not understand the repercussions of my actions. How much pain they would cause. Brother against brother, families torn apart in feelings. Those scars will never heal. For that, I am deeply sorry’?”
Trevor sits up a little straighter and rakes a hand through his hair. I wonder if he even knows how often he does that when he’s thinking. “Maybe nothing. It sounds like he was saying what he thought he needed to in order to avoid a beating.”
“No, TJ.Listen. ‘Families torn apartinfeelings.’ His English was so good. Doesn’t that seem like an odd mistake for him to make?”
“Fuck me.” Trevor slams his hand down onto the arm of the chair. “Sensacíon.”
“Well, yes. That’s the Spanish word for feelings. How does that help explain anything?”
