Shane and Trey[ Enemies to Lovers 01 ] (15 page)

I laughed. “I can hold off on that until later.” Actually, I wasn’t entirely sure on that count. I was pretty worked up, and— Trey jumped out of bed. “Come on. We can do it together. No touching, I promise.”

“Oh gawd,” I said, my face hot—half with lust, half with nervousness. “You are not making this any easier”—or softer! I pulled on my t-shirt. “Look. I’m meeting with June later tonight. I’ll feel much better after I talk to her about things.” I hoped. I really, really hoped.

Trey paused and slowly nodded, his face serious, understanding. “That’s…good. You’re right. You should definitely do that.” He looked suddenly so sad and forlorn. Did he think this was it then? Did he already know how June would respond? Was it going to be bad?

“Have, ah, you spoken to her at all about how you feel about”—swallow—“me?”

He sank back on the bed. “Yeah, I have actually. Well, not directly. After I told her I was gay, she asked me if yo ^ kis —swu—as in your type”—Type? I was a type?—“did it for me, and I said yes.”

“Sounds pretty direct to me,” I said, yanking on my jeans and almost tripping.

“Are you angry I said that?” “No!” Trey raised a brow. “I’m a type to you? And what does that mean, exactly?” “Oh babe, show me that pout again.”

I stuck out my tongue instead. But darn if his use of babe made me immediately better. “I just want to be seen for me, you know?” I did up the top button, and when I looked up, Trey was right before me.

He ran a finger under my cut on my forehead, carefully pulling the hairs from it. He kept searching my face, every bit of it, as if he were committing it to memory.
(Okay, maybe I was a romantic. Well, that I guess I could live with). “I—” he hesitated, and finished by kissing my forehead. “Just know—you’re not a type to me, okay?”

Weird. This felt so comfortable. I’d expected to wake up in the morning and feel more awkwardness, but somehow not. It, well, sort of was as if it’d always been like this. Me and him together, like.

“Right,” Trey said. “Hurry up and go to the bathroom, then we can make pancakes!”

What I’d suggested last night came back to me. Haha, I did stay over after all that. Fuck, I’d stayed over. I’d spent the night with Trey!—and I wouldn’t have changed it for the world. Hehehe, yeah. I wished I had my guitar here right now. I would have cranked out such an upbeat tune. Shoot! I’ve never been so freaking ecstatic.

“What are you chuckling about? Get your cute ass across the hall now.”

 

I jumped my butt forward before he could slap me, and practically skipped out the room.I’m on my merry waaay!

Only once downstairs in the kitchen did I feel anxious again. Trey had never said how June had reacted. But the two of them were on talking terms again. That was a good sign, right?

I pulled out a chair and sat down. Pots clattered in the kitchen, as Trey grabbed a frying pan. He glanced at me at the end of the dining table, and paused. “When you suggestedweshould make Ma pancakes to cheer her up, you actually meantme,right?”

A sheepish smile met his amused grin. “Ah—I sorta don’t know how.”

“Never made pancakes?” “No. But I’m a pro at eating them.”

Trey laughed. “Me too. Guess if I’m making, you’re on clean-up.”

Hmmm. It felt so good talking to him like this. Almost as if we were some old couple or something. I liked it. Mostly. But—

Trey’s voice cut through my thoughts. “Are you uncomfortable or nervous?”

 

“What?” “You’re squirming. So which is it?”

Ahhh—both? Uncomfortable not knowing where—if this ‘us’ stuff was going someplace, and nervous because, well, it just felt so right. And that was fright-en-ing. How could I feel this strongly so soon? The thought made my gut twist, not even pancakes would make it better.

Trey poured milk into his dry mix and stirred, flour streaked across his chin. “Tell me your thoughts.”

I moved into the kitchen and leaned against the counter, watching him throw a heap of butter into the pan. He’d barely been in the kitchen ten minutes, and egg, flour and sugar splattered the counters—yeah not just one. He liked to travel with his mixing bowl to the ingredients rather than bringing them to it.

Mesmerized by Trey, so hot, even—especially?—in this mess, I sighed. It was a small little thing under the breath really, but he heard it. He dropped the wooden spoon in the bowl and licked his batter-y fingers. “What’s up, babe?” His sticky thumb touched my cheek, and I shot out of his reach.

“Whoa.” I looked around for a sign of his parents or aunt. “You’d better be careful!” I whispered, “You don’t want your mom finding out the way mine d ^å0"n. id. Or have you forgotten?”

He turned down the element, and stepped closer cutting off my access out of the kitchen, a sneaky grin on his face. “You don’t have to worry about that. They’re all still in bed, besides…”

“Besides, what?” “They won’t—Ma won’t freak out or anything.”

“She wouldn’t? Not even catching two guys, one of them her son, making out? I mean, even if she’s cool with it, it’s bound to be a shock.”

“Well, I’d just love to shock her.” Trey’s voice held not an ounce of mischievous quality. Instead, he sounded serious —sad.“Look, she and Pa just wouldn’t care. So, let’s not hide here.” He leaned forward and kissed my nose, and with it my heart skipped a beat. His last sentences worried me. But before I could dwell on it further, his tone changed, suddenly demanding andhot.“Now, tell me what’s going on in that head of yours.”

I inhaled. “Okaaay. I’m just…” I kept my head down, studying Trey’s feet. They were so much slender than my own with a little bit of hair on each big toe. “How do you think June will react? I mean, when you told her I was your type. What did she say? Do?”

I chanced a look at his face; it was drawn, shadowed. He distanced himself and dumped a spoon full of batter into the sizzling pan. “She—she thought it was her fault. I tried to tell her it had nothing to do with her, but she kept insisting it was. It hurt her feelings. Badly.”

“It’s not her fault,” I said, quietly, “And, it’s not yours, either.”

Moisture lined his eyes, but his jaw hardened, as if he were trying to keep in control. Grabbing a fish-slice, he flipped the first pancake. It was black where the butter had burned. Trey muttered, and dumped the pancake into the sink, starting again. “She means a lot to me still, Shane. She was, and always will be my first—and she’s special. I need you to know that she holds a big part of my heart.” He wiped his eyes on the sleeve of his t-shirt. “It’s still rocky right now, but I want to stay close friends—best friends even. After you and her, of course.”

I went to him, and just rested a hand on his shoulder. “I want her to be happy. I really want that for her, even if a part—a small part, understand—will be jealous.”

Wow. That was honest. And to be honest in return: fuck this is complicated!Two very contrasting things filled me up. One, I was tumbling hard, head—heels, head—heels, head —heels. Was I—could I be falling in—I shook my head and concentrated on the other feeling. Less pleasant, but not quite so scary: hearing that had kind of hurt. I couldn’t help but wonder if—“Do you like me, because I remind you of June—but a guy?”

I removed my hand from him, and Trey spun around. “What the hell?” Whoa was he livid. “No. No! I mean, I know you’re twins, but your goodness is probably the only thing that suggests you are.” Calming a bit—a tiny, tiny bit, he lifted my chin and looked me in the eyes. “Trust me, you are both amazing people—but boy are you different. The way you talk, the way you react to things, your confidence and attitude, fuck yes, and then there’s the way you look at me. Nobody has ever looked at me that way before. It’s the most intense—exciting…”
Without a second to prepare, he’d grabbed me, his tongue already seeking mine. He pressed me closer, letting me feel exactly what my look did to him. Then too soon he moved away, and raised a brow, which seemed to whisper: Do you feel it? This thing we have?

I nodded.Yeah, yeah I do. “Good. What I feel, is definitely about you, Shane. Nothing —no one else. Please believe that.”

I did. And my lip had re-split open at the—ah—passion of the last kiss. I dabbed the blood away with the back of my hand.

“Fuck, I burned another one.” Once again, Trey lifted the pan from ^Ls compli the element and tipped the pancake into the sink. Yuck, they were bound to get all soggy and gross in there, and I was the one on clean up. What had I agreed to?

Footsteps came down the hall, and I straightened myself for Trey’s mom. Her gaze flickered briefly over me. Black bags under her eyes, and her hair a mess, she didn’t look so great. If it’d been my own mom, I’d have sent her straight back to bed.

“Morning Ma,” Trey said, forcing (by the sound of it at least) enthusiasm in his tone. “We’re making pancakes for us all.” “What gave you the idea to do that?”

Trey stepped closer to me and slipped his hand in mine. “That would be my boyfriend.”

Wait as sec— what!How the hell could he be so casual about the whole thing? And couldn’t he have warned me?— Or did I not get a say in how and when…I mean he just outed me too! But most of all—boyfriend?After one night, he considered us boyfriends?Ahhhhhhh—my heart was rapping out a beat that was making me woozy.

I gripped his fingers tighter, not sure if it was to punish him or because I was overjoyed. Nervously, I met his mom’s gaze. Trey had better be right she wouldn’t care.

“Oh,” she said, grabbing a glass and filling it with milk. “That’s nice. But we don’t have time to eat a big breakfast. I’ve a meeting with Patricia’s psychologist.” She drank the liquid in thirsty gulps. “And take her for a walk this morning, Trey. Your Pa won’t be back until lunch.”

Before he could even nod, she’d turned and left the room. “Of course,” he said, and dropped my hand.

I waited a few minutes, until I heard the front door close, before I spoke, “We don’t need to make these pancakes. I actually don’t think I could stomach them. My nerves are making jelly of my insides.”

Trey switched off the element. “Good. I’m not so hungry myself.”

From the stiffness in his back and posture, I knew whatever I said, I should tread carefully. “At least your mom was cool about us.”

He laughed, dry, humorless. “No, that wasn’t cool. That was just not caring. There’s a difference.”

What do I say to that? Howcan I take that pained look off his face?In two steps I crossed over to him and slunk my arms around his middle, my head tucked under his chin.I care. I hope that counts.

As if he’d heard my thoughts, he breathed into my hair. “Thanks, Shane.”

After we—I cleaned up (Trey attempted to, but I wasn’t sure he didn’t make things messier), we walked through his back yard. Flowers bloomed in neatly kept plots. A small gazebo graced the yard, which was where Trey lead me to.

Lavender mixed in the air, reminding me of my mom’s favorite soap. “Who’s the gardener?”
“Ma. She’s happy in the garden. Pa is too busy, but he enjoys a good cigar out here, from time to time. James used to do a bit of gardening too. Before he went overseas.”

I looked up at Trey who stared into the fish pond to the side. Could I ask him? “Uh… What happened to your—”Aunt? But it was too late; he’d jumped out of the gazebo and charged toward the house. What?

And then I heard the yelling. Seemed Patricia had woken up.

I waited in the kitchen as Trey helped his aunt dress and get ready. I thought about offering help, but I imagined it would be too weird for her to have a complete stranger helping with intimate stuff.

When Trey entered the kitchen with his aunt, something rose and fell inside of me. I had a crazy, almost unbearable urge to race over to him, throw my arms around him, and kiss him and kiss him, and then kiss him some more.

I extended my arm toward her. “Hello, I’m Shane.”

She took my hand and squeezed it firmly. “I’m Patricia— don’t even think about shortening it to Pat.” And with that she wheeled to the end of the table and waited for Trey ^k ofy. to organize her some breakfast. While he made some type of smoothie and a bowl of muesli, she continued to eye me up and down.

“You a good friend of his?” she asked, narrowing her eyes. “Yeah. Guess you could say that.”

“You just watch out for him. He’s the sweetest thing and then, bang!”—she clapped her hands together—“out of nowhere he’ll—”

Trey dumped a bowl and glass in front of her. “Eat up, Pat.” Then he came over, grabbed my arm and pulled me out the room. “Shane, don’t take this the wrong way, but do you mind leaving us for a couple of hours?”

I knew he’d just told me not to, but I couldn’t help but feel a bit rejected at that. I composed myself and nodded. “Sure thing.” Did that come out too squeaky?

Looking away from him, in case my eyes gave away my hurt, I patted my jeans. Keys, check. Why the hell was I being so sensitive? “Right. Pick you up at half past twelve, then?”

“Yeah, yup. Do that.” I headed toward the front door, and Trey’s voice came from behind. “Shane, I…It’s not…”—he sighed—“See you then.” ***

The rest of the day dragged by. Well, okay, the bits with Trey didn’t, but the other bits did. After hockey, I made it back to the dorm room. Alone, Trey had promised to catch up with a friend after practice, although he’d been reluctant to go. Other than one quick kiss in the car, we’d barely touched. Except after practice when the team had a soda to socialize, he’d fished for my foot under the table. Which was how I managed to spill lemonade down my front, and was the brunt of a few jokes. What? He’d surprised me! Other than that we’d shared secret, slightly-longer-thannormal eye contact. Hot and nice, I liked it.

I grabbed my cell I’d left on the side table and checked my messages. I had one from Syd and one from June. I checked June’s first, sent to me early this morning.Can’t do dinner, sorry. Ring me.–Damn. I’d been anticipating that all day.

Before checking Syd’s message, I hit dial on June’s number.

 

“Hey Shane, did you just get my message?” “Didn’t have my phone on me. So what’s come up?”

She breathed heavily down the line. It bordered on exasperated, but if I was right a bit of excitement was there too. “There was more to the assignment than we both realized until last night. Jack cancelled his trip to work on it —I can’t have dinner now. It looks like we’ll be doing a couple of all nighters. Can we move it to after we’ve handed this in? Say Monday, six o’clock?”