Warm gusts of his breath tickle my neck as he seemingly breathes me in, his fingers play with the hair just below my belly button, causing sparks of pleasure to dance along my skin. All tangled together is how we fall asleep, slowly and then all at once. And I try to pretend that my heart isn’t galloping away at the idea of letting him walk away in the morning.
CHAPTER SIX
TREVOR
Dreams are dangerous things. The dreams that come at night with their inky darkness making it hard to breathe, and the dreams that inspire hope. I’ve found it’s best to attempt to have neither of them. But life rarely goes my way.
I’m having the most delicious dream of my life. I’m in Beau’s house and bright sunlight shines through the windows, slashing in streams against the walls. Laughter fills the air, the kind of joyful laughter from a decidedly happy toddler. When I look around, I find pictures of a family filling the walls. A family that includes me.
A warm hand wraps around my neck that startles me even in my dream. I look over to find Beau, older, but still as handsome, and he’s grinning at me, corners of his eyes wrinkled. It’s the gentle smile that tells me he’s thinking sickeningly sweet thoughts about me.
I blink and we’re outside with two children playing in a treehouse in the backyard. He takes my hand in his own and kisses my knuckles, showing off a wedding band on my finger.
A cold, sticky sweat covers my skin when I gasp awake. Looking around nervously, I remember that I’m in Beau’s home. That’s why I dreamt such a vivid dream. Just my brain going berserk because I’m not home in my own bed. That’s all it is. Early light of dawn filters in through the windows facing the backyard. The gentle chirp of birds that signal morning has come filters in through the gauzy curtains covering Beau’s bedroom windows.
Time to go home.
Beau grunts beside me and reaches his arm out for me in his sleep. A few more hours remain on the fake boyfriend clock. I let him tug me back down into his strong arm. I snuggle deeply against him, stupidly taking comfort in his arms. His heart pounds beneath my ear, strong and steady. Just like him. I run my fingers along the veins of his forearm as he slowly joins me in the land of the living.
“Mornin’,” Beau says, voice still sleep gruff and low.
I tenderly kiss the hollow of his throat, feeling his pulse jump against my lips. A grin breaks loose from me, and I press my lips harder against his sleep-warmed skin to hide it. “Morning.”
“Mmm,” Beau hums sleepily, tangling his fingers in my messy hair.
And then we just lie there. We freaking lie there as his fingers slowly comb through my hair, picking out the knots from sleep. I’ve never had a john do that before. Just treat me like a real boyfriend, like they enjoy my presence, like they enjoyme. I press my forehead against his chest, taking a steadying breath to calm my wild heart.
“So, what do you do when you leave here?”
“Probably another client or two this summer. Back to school in the fall.”
His fingers stutter a little in my hair, but otherwise he doesn’t speak. I trail my fingers down his side, along the dip of his ribs,and nuzzle my cheek against his chest hair. I’ve never been a big fan of body hair, but Beau has just the right amount to catch on my fingers as I rub my hand over his chest. Strangely, it’s comforting.
“Your flight is in a few hours,” Beau whispers dejectedly.
I press tighter against him, needing to burrow into his warmth. A clock chimes in the distance and my heart cracks in half. “Just a few more minutes.”
“Whatever you want, sweetheart.”
The words are so sweet, I almost believe them.
Beau drives me back to the airport with the attitude of a man seeing his lover off to war. Keeping my gaze off him and his unfairly perfect forearms is my only mission. Away from his perfect, horribly beautiful face. A man like Beau could never want a man like me, I remind myself, repeatedly, until my brain is forced to accept it.
Just keep my eyes trained on the rolling landscape out the window. When he finally pulls up at the airport, getting out of the car feels like an impossible act. After three days. What the fuck is wrong with me?
“Well, Claire will send you a survey asking about your experience.” I play with the edge of my shirt, twirling my finger around a stray string. I should cut it. “You’ve already paid for it.”
“Trevor.”
I swallow hard, keeping my gaze aimed out the window. “Thank you. This weekend was actually pretty great.”
“Trevor, will you look at me?”
Shaking my head violently, I’m unable to bear even the idea of looking at him. A parking cop blows his whistle and angrily points at us with wrath in his eyes. Time to flee. I pull the handle and push the door, but Beau tugs me back, and his mouth slams into mine with all the force of a car crash. He kisses me like he’s going to miss me. Like he can memorize the weight of my lips. And God, I kiss him the same way back. Which is absolutely bonkers. I’ve clearly lost it.
A pathetic whimper escapes me when he pulls away. His breath fans across my cheek, sending a ripple of want through me. I wish I could turn back time. The safety of his arms, of his bed, of his home, is incomparable, stealing all the relief I usually feel when returning home.
“If you ever need me, you know how to find me.” He swipes his thumb across my bottom lip with a rueful smile. “Goodbye, Trevor.”
