“Oh boy.” A shiver rolls through him, and he squeezes his eyes tightly shut. “You said no sex.”
“We can do a lot of things that bring pleasure without having sex.”
Trevor’s pupils blow wide at my words, swallowing up his gorgeous baby blues. Deft fingers twitch in my hair, grip tight, then tug me close enough that our lips are only a whisper apart.
“Beau,” Trevor murmurs, lips softly grazing mine. An almost kiss. A blink-and-you-miss-it kind of kiss. AnI need more,just the hint of a kiss.
“Hiya,” a voice says loudly from behind us.
I don’t pull away from Trevor. Instead, I just turn my head to take in Harper. The man doesn’t look remotely guilty for interrupting us. Actually, he looks pleased-as-punch. The brat.
“They’re going to cut the cake soon,” Harper announces with a knowing grin.
“Okay,” I tell him, hoping he’ll disappear.
Harper wiggles his fingers at me in the imitation of a wave. “Just thought you’d want to know.”
I stare daggers at Harper's back as he disappears towards his edge of the table. Trevor’s wearing a teasing smile as his gaze follows Harper through the crowd.
“You look so familiar.”
I turn my gaze to the other side of the table to find one of Ethan’s family members standing, gaze calculating where it falls on Trevor.
Trevor swallows, but his smile is pasted on. “I have one of those faces.”
The man cocks his head. “No, I’ve definitely seen you before. What’s your line of work?”
“I don’t work. I’m in college,” Trevor says, voice cold and distant. I’ve never heard his voice like that before, not sure I ever want to hear it again.
“Wait… aren’t you?—”
“I think that’s enough,” Trevor interrupts, eyes full of fire.
The man’s gaze pings between me and Trevor again, taking in Trevor’s fingers in my hair, the proximity of our bodies. A mean smirk curls the man’s lips to the side, but I stare at him with every ounce offuck offmy body can muster. He holds up his hands in defeat and backs away towards the table at the other side of the barn.
When I turn back to Trevor, his eyes are closed tight. His fingers drop slowly from my hair. An ache the size of a canyon opens inside of me just at the loss of his sweet touch. He firmly cups the bottle of beer in both palms and returns his calculating gaze to the wedding guests.
“Trevor,” I plead, needing to have his attention back on me.
He shoots me a half smile. “It’s okay, Beau.”
The problem is that I can already somehow see through his carefully constructed defenses. A little hitch to his voice tells me that for a second, he was vulnerable, and he didn’t really enjoy the feeling. A little furrow forms between his brows, his mouth twitches at one corner as he attempts to fake a painted-on smile. But I know and maybe that’s enough for now.
Time ticks by slowly. I mingle with my annoying family since I’m the epitome of a good southern boy. Trevor gives everyone his most award-winning smile while plastered to my side. But something changed after the interaction with that man earlier. I wish I could go back to before Harper interrupted us. I wish I could go back. The band switches to a drowsy love song, once everyone is winding down for the night. I take that as my chance.
I find Trevor happily chatting with Harper at the edge of the barn. Holding out my hand, I patiently wait for him to slip his hand into mine. His eyes flit from my hand and up to my eyes in question. One of those sweet smiles tilts the edges of his lips up, and his eyes sparkle just enough to make me smile in return. When he slips his hand into mine, I feel like I could spin the earth backwards like Superman.
We bump into a few dancing couples as I guide us through the swaying bodies on the dance floor, until we’re at the very center. I tug him into the cage of my arms so that he’s flush against my body. No place we don’t touch, but it’s still not enough.
His hair is a little sweaty from the heat inside the barn, curling up slightly where it brushes his shoulders. Suit jacket abandoned long ago; his shirt sleeves are rolled up to show his forearms. He’s achingly beautiful, perfect for me.
Swaying off beat to the calming wedding music, I tug him closer with a tight grip on his slim hips. His skin is warm even under his dress shirt, burning against the warmth of my palms.He fits so easily against me, like he was made for me. Such a dangerous thought.
“Beau,” Trevor says my name like a dreamy sigh. He loosely loops his arms around my shoulders, fingers tangling together against the nape of my neck.
I’ve always been a big guy, in size, and in nature. People count on me. They know that I’m going to take care of them and get things done.Call Beauis the motto I’ve heard most of my life. And I wish for just a moment that Trevor felt he could call on me. That he could count on me. I bet every guy that gets him for even a moment feels the same way.
Song after song, we stay silent, just basking in the moment together. So wrapped up in Trevor, in his soft gaze, I don’t even realize the barn is slowly emptying.
