“I discovered that you’re smart. You’re funny. You’ve got a lot of good, important things to say. You’re even kind. A little difficult sometimes—”
“Hey,” Lane interrupted, because he felt like he should, instead of just letting himself sink into all these compliments like they were a warm bath.
“It’s true, but eventhatis kinda cute, honestly.” Trevor shot him a grin. “I’m just saying, dude, you don’t need to front with me—or with our teammates, either.”
“I’m not,” Lane claimed, but he probably was. A little. Or a lot.
He didn’t know how he felt about Trevor seeing through him, or about him seeing therealLane.
“Just say thank you,” Trevor said, but he was rolling his eyes fondly.
“Thank you,” Lane said in a rough voice.
“Good,” Trevor said.
It didn’t feel like Trevor was going to drop the subject forever, but at least he didn’t bring it up again on the way home. They’d gotten a grocery delivery today, and Trevor chattered on about what he was going to cook for dinner tonight, the hockey game he wanted to watch on TV tonight, the new book that Cam had recommended to him that he’d started.
It was easy enough conversation, light enough that Lane could pay half attention and participate without too much trouble.
The other half of his brain was currently analyzing or probably over-analyzing, everything that Trevor had just said to him. Because it didn’t seem like that guy, who hadthosekinds of thoughts about Lane, would be that easily freaked out or scared away by a little argument.
Maybe Lane wasn’t giving Trevor enough credit.
Maybe you haven’t ever given Trevor enough credit.
And that was totally possible. After all, the way he’d reacted to Lane’s bombshell revelation had been a shrug and a,Why didn’t you tell me sooner?Even though the guy had never even considered that he was into guys until this year! He’d still claimed he’d have wanted to know.
Lane hadn’t quite wrapped his head around that yet, but maybe him understanding it wasn’t that important. Maybe it was only important for Lane to accept it.
He pulled into the parking garage under his building, and Trevor trailed after him as they headed upstairs.
Trevor had been quiet—or nonconfrontational—for long enough that Lane wasalmostlulled into relaxing his guard. Trevor wouldn’t bring it up again. But then of course the moment they were in the apartment, he opened his stupidly big mouth again.
“That was just one little thing you shared—you see stuffall the time,” Trevor said as he headed into the kitchen.
Lane groaned, not bothering to hold back his frustration. “Can’t you just drop it?”
“No, because it feels ridiculous to me,” Trevor said self-righteously. “You wanna give me one good reason?”
“Yeah, sometimes it’s good, like today, and sometimes it’s not.”
“How often?” Trevor challenged, crossing his arms over his chest.
Lane tried to ignore the way it made his biceps fill out his T-shirt sleeves. This would be so much easier if he was less attracted to him.
“I don’t know,” Lane evaded, but he should really know better than to try to avoid telling Trevor something he wanted to know. He could be relentless; just like he’d been the other day, when he’d convinced Lane to admit the truth about how long he’d liked him.
“Don’t bullshit me,” Trevor argued.
And it was one thing to admitthat, and it was another to get pushed way past his comfort zone aboutthis.
“Why can’t you fucking leave it alone?” Lane argued.
“Because I want to win these games! I want to win a—” Trevor broke off, but it was obvious what he’d meant to say. “For me, sure, but for Aidan, too. And this feels like our year, doesn’t it?”
“Doesn’t mean it is.”
Trevor threw up his hands. “God, you are so fucking annoying. I don’t even know why I like you.”
