Lane’s heart stuttered. Here it was.I don’t even know why I like youso easily morphing into,Actually, I don’t like you.
He’d thought he’d be angrier about it, when it finally happened. Resentful, maybe. Bitter, for sure. But instead, all he felt was bone-deep devastation sliding through him, cutting through bone and muscle and sinew like a hot knife through butter.
It was a challenge, but he tried to keep it off his face. Keep his expression stony, but the way Trevor did a double take and then actually put the pork tenderloin he’d just taken out of the fridge back inside and walked around the island to stand right in front of him, told Lane he’d done a shitty job.
“What?” Lane challenged. Easier than sinking further into the inevitable. He didn’t want to be sad, he wanted to be mad.
Though, that wasn’t really true, either, was it?
He wanted to find that full-body satisfaction and rightness he’d been enjoying every morning when he woke up and Trevor was snoring away next to him, hair a mess, a crease from the pillow imprinted on his cheek.
“Don’t bullshit me,” Trevor repeated, but quieter. Less angry, more pleading.
“I’m—”
But Trevor didn’t let him finish. He just pulled Lane into his arms, wrapping them tightly around his middle. “You’re just so . . . so guarded,” he murmured into Lane’s shoulder. “I can’t get inside, and Iwantto.”
Lane’s throat closed tight. He didn’t know if he could even speak. But he had to. Hehadto. “But you said . . .”
“I said what?” Trevor pulled back, and there was concern and clear affection shining in his brown eyes.
Lane swallowed the lump away. The one thing hedidknow was that if he wanted a chance in hell of Trevor continuing to like him, the way he said he already did, or maybe liking him evenmore, he needed to learn how to be honest.
Even if it was terrifying.
Because even more terrifying was Trevor turning away. Getting a taste of him, and thennothing.
“You said you didn’t know why you even liked me,” Lane admitted.
It hurt even saying it out loud, but he didn’twantit to be true. He wanted the opposite to be true. For Trevor tolikeliking him. Not to do it against his will.
Trevor looked confused, but then that melted into understanding.
“We kind of drive each other crazy, don’t we?” Trevor chuckled about this, like it wasn’t a big deal. Didn’t he see that this was all thebiggestdeal to Lane?
“Yeah,” Lane admitted. “And I was annoyed with you—”
Trevor grinned. Actually fuckinggrinned. “Yeah, I’m annoyed with you, too.”
“Then why?” That was all Lane could ask.
Maybe all he needed to ask, because instead of answering, Trevor leaned in and kissed him. Soft and lush and hot, the feel of his mouth against Lane’s burning him up from the inside out.
It felt a little insane, but if this was insanity, then Lane had been losing his mind for fucking years. Didn’t evenwantto keep it together, any longer.
Trevor groaned as Lane deepened the kiss, pulling him flush against his hips. Wasn’t even sure when he’d gotten hard, but he was hard now. All it had taken was the switch flipping, and he was ready to go.
Trying to resist the urge to span the width of Trevor’s hips with his hands and give in, tugging him right along to the bedroom.
Trevor tilted his head, kissing him back harder and deeper, and it occurred to Lane that he might even like that.
Up until now, he’d let Trevor set the tone and the pace, because that had felt like not only the right thing to do, but a decent tool to manage his own hunger from overtaking both of them.
Lane broke the kiss, pulling back, even though he didn’t want to.
“Do you still—”
Trevor didn’t let him finish. “Yes,” he said.
