Chapter 23
Chapter Twenty-Three
Teresa
A s soon as Charlie and Trevor disappeared out the front door, Bess turned to me, her eyes huge. “Oh, my God! This must be torture for him. I didn’t even think.” She buried her face in her hands.
“What are you talking about?”
“Trevor,” she whisper-shouted. “He’s trying to get over you, and we’re literally tying you together. Charlie convinced me it would help… that if you spent enough time together, he’d start to see you as a normal person and not as this mythical creature he’s built you up to be in his head.”
“Mythical? No… that’s ridiculous,” I protested, but a niggle of doubt made my voice waver.
What if Trevor had put me on some kind of pedestal I was bound to fall from? He didn’t know my flaws. He didn’t know my history. How quickly would this relationship crash and burn when he found out?
Bess wandered over to the kitchen to search for more snacks. “Oh, you have no idea. To him, you’re the perfect woman who got away.”
I followed at her heels, feeling increasingly uncomfortable. “Maybe we do need to spend more time together doing some godawful team-building exercises so that he gets over that idea. There’s nothing perfect about me.”
Bess found a block of cheese and some crackers. “I guess that’s part of any relationship. You gradually find out more about each other, good and bad. And hopefully, the good outweighs the bad.”
“Like you and Charlie?”
She smiled, cutting the cheese into smaller cubes. “You find out a lot living and working together.”
“I don’t know how you do it! I’ve never had the urge to live with a guy.” As I said it, my gaze wandered across the beautiful space.
I had a strong urge to live in this house, but that was just Trevor messing with my mind by creating my dream room. Surely, that didn’t count as an urge to live with a man. I could live here all by myself.
“You will, when it’s the right guy,” Bess said soothingly, presenting me with her simple cheese platter. “I’m so sorry about Richard. That’s awful.”
She looked at me with such genuine compassion my insides twisted. I needed a friend and if I wanted her support, I had to be honest.
I piled cheese on a cracker and ate it to give myself a moment. Fumbling my way around the fancy water cooler on his fridge door, I filled a glass with ice chips and water. I could do this. I could tell her and get this off my chest.
I turned around to face her, drawing a breath. “I slept with Trevor,” I blurted, my eyes on the front door, watching for signs of it opening.
Bess’s eyes widened. “What? When?”
“Just before you arrived.”
She let out a strange noise of excitement, or maybe alarm. “What does this mean? Do you… like him?” Her gaze turned from concerned to hopeful.
I grimaced. “I don’t know what I feel! It was amazing and obviously I’m attracted to him, but now I’m freaking out because you said he idolizes me. I should not be idolized. That will not end well.”
She blinked, confused. “Why not?”
“Because he’ll eventually find out that I’m just a normal person, or something worse. You just said that yourself!”
“I didn’t say ‘something worse’!” She gave me a reproaching look. “And I didn’t know you had feelings for him. I thought you hated him.”
“Hate is a feeling. It’s love’s first cousin.”
“What about how he ruined your career?”
I sighed. I’d been so hurt I might have exaggerated. “I still have a career, don’t I? I don’t love what he did and I’m still a bit mad, but he’s also done great things. That’s why I don’t know what to feel! I need to figure this out before we both get hurt. Before I do something really stupid…”
“Like sleep with him?”
“Ha!”
She was right. The ‘really stupid’ ship had already sailed.
Bess leaned on the counter; her tone soft. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but maybe it’s too early to figure it out. You only just broke up with Richard, and you haven’t even talked to him. You said you just drove away… As much as I’d love to see you and Trevor happy together, I’m afraid this is some kind of whirlwind affair brought on by a traumatic experience.”
It made so much sense I could only nod, breathing forcefully through the heaviness in my chest. I’d jumped in with both feet. Why had I done this to myself?
Bess took the cheese platter and guided us back to the couch. I hugged one of Trevor’s cushions—a creamy white one with a chunky weave cover. It was perfect.
“Trevor thinks it’s the other way around,” I said. “That we were always meant to be, ever since that night, and Richard was the rebound.” My voice sounded a little petulant.
“Did you hook up with Richard within hours of that night?”
“It was about eight months later,” I admitted, sinking deeper into the couch, groaning. “I’ve fallen for Trevor’s funhouse of mirrors and warped logic.”
Bess smiled a little sadly. “I’m sure it makes sense to him. He never acknowledged you with Richard. But you were together for months. He must have meant something to you.”
“It was the safe choice, I guess. It felt like the safe choice, at least. Not some crazy passion that can turn at any moment, but something nice and solid. It was… pleasant.”
Bess bit back a smile. “It sounds like you’re describing a chair.”
“No! If I was describing a chair, I’d use much more passionate language! Like this couch… it’s heavenly.” I rolled onto my back, stretching out for emphasis. “It receives me like a hug. I always loved that Pinterest photo, but I had no idea how amazing this felt. It molds to my body like I’m floating on air.”
Bess laughed. “You’re right. That’s a lot more passion. I guess Trevor knew the way to your heart.”
I rolled to my side, anxiety fluttering in my chest. “Is that a bad thing? He wanted to create a space I’d feel at home in.”
Bess tilted her head, considering this. “I guess it’s one of those things that is either creepy or cute, depending on how it’s received. So, it’s up to you.”
“Huh.” I flopped onto my back.
That’s what I’d told Trevor, but hearing someone else say it made it real. Like anything in life, I could choose to frame this either way. I didn’t have to accept anyone else’s interpretation. If I wanted to be happy with Trevor, I could write that version of the story. I just had to figure out what was really between us.
I heard the front door and hubbub of Charlie and Trevor handling a lot of cardboard. I should have gotten up to help, but I was so blissfully relaxed, floating on that cloud-like couch, that I decided to give myself a minute. Just one minute.
“I do love this couch,” I said dreamily, closing my eyes on a smile.
When I opened them, Trevor stood right above me, looking down with a smile wider than mine. “Wasn’t sure it was worth the cash, but aye, I’m convinced now.”
Snowflakes launched from the shoulders of his jacket, floating down on me. I felt one land on my face—a pinprick of cold that instantly turned into a droplet.
I scrambled up to sitting. “How did it go? Did you find stuff?”
Trevor pointed at a pile of flattened cardboard by the front door. “Charlie’s bringing the last bit in. It’s the box my telly came in, so it’s big.”
I looked around me. “You don’t even have a TV.”
“Yeah, I realized it wasn’t part of your… vision, so I hid it in the spare room.”
I had to laugh. “I’m not against TVs. But the picture I pinned was basically a home library. I have to ask… where did you get all the books?” I nodded at the bookshelves behind me, full of leather-bound classics.
Trevor busied himself with taking off his jacket. “I’ve been frequenting garage sales and book fairs.”
“Really?”
He flung his jacket across an armchair and ran a hand across his face. “I mean… I love books and I read all the time. I had a decent collection to begin with, but not that many old ones that looked like those in the photo. So, I guess that gave me an excuse to shop. It’s been fun. I’ve found some interesting reads.”
I stared at the bookshelves in awe. So, he hadn’t outsourced this part of the decoration. Trevor loved book shopping. I’d already known he was an avid reader—which made sense for a wordsmith—but for some reason, I hadn’t expected him to buy and collect books. I wasn’t sure why it made me so happy. Maybe because books were heavy and impractical. They came with a sense of permanence.
The front door opened again, and Charlie hauled in a huge, flat box with a picture of a flatscreen TV on it. “Where are we going to do this?” he asked.
Trevor met him at the door and grabbed the other end. “Let’s build in the spare room, there’s more space.”
Bess and I followed them, helping them drag all the cardboard and a banged-up toolbox into our temporary workshop. Trevor showed us to the tape, glue, screws, and everything else he’d managed to find.
“Are we even allowed to use screws?” Bess asked. “The rules said cardboard, duct tape and glue.”
“I’m pretty sure some people use screws,” I said. “It’s not like they inspect your sled that closely. That might have changed, though, since the last time I…” I swallowed the rest of the sentence. Too late.
Charlie narrowed his eyes at me. “Wait… you’ve done this before?”
Oh, shit! They didn’t know about my history with Cozy Creek. Ever since they’d come up with this ridiculous “let’s move the office to Cozy Creek” idea, I’d been gathering the courage to tell them. But I knew it would open the door to an avalanche of questions I wasn’t ready for.
Now, I couldn’t put it off any longer. Trevor already knew.
“I grew up here,” I said carefully. “I haven’t been back in a long time, but I guess some things don’t change. The cardboard sled contest has been around for years. My mom stays in touch with her friends here. She told me it’s gotten bigger.”
Bess stared at me like I’d just told them I worked for the CIA. “So, you know Cozy Creek?”
“Cozy Creek knows me,” I muttered.
“Why do you say it like that?”
I swallowed. “Because… I was a teenager and… anyway, the point of the sled contest is to crash so that your sled totally falls apart. I mean, of course you try not to, but nearly everyone does, and that’s why it’s so much fun for the audience.”
Bess looked like she had further questions, but Trevor saw my discomfort and jumped in. “We shouldn’t have any problems crashin’ and falling apart. Turns out the glue’s dried out and the cardboard is not thick enough for the screws.” He dropped the useless tube of glue and picked up a roll of duct tape. “Let’s hope this holds.”
“As long as the temperature stays below freezing,” I said. “One year, I remember the weather turned weirdly warm. It started drizzling and everyone’s sleds got soaked.”
“It should be fine,” Charlie said, looking out the window. “Why don’t you get started and I’ll go order us some dinner?”