Under the Texas Sky

CHAPTER 56

KIAN

I ring the fancy doorbell by the front door again. I don’t care if it tells me that the home owner isn’t home and asks if I want to leave a message. I’m not leaving a freaking message on a doorbell. I’m talking to him face to face. We’re going to hash all of this out right now.

“Trent, open the freaking door. I know you’re home. Your truck is in the driveway, and I can see the light on!”

He doesn’t have the right to be petty now. Yes, I ran away last time, but the overheard conversation at the restaurant has me thinking there’s a lot more to the story.

I’ve already been away from him this long. I refuse to let him draw this out any longer.

“We need to talk. And I’m going to pick the lock if you don’t let me in,” I warn. Do I remember how to pick a lock still? Guess we’ll find out.

“Why are you picking the lock to my front door?”

A very manly, deep scream escapes from my mouth. I turn around on my heels, and standing at the bottom of the porch is Trent and… oh my god. Is that–

“Mitch?” I say in disbelief. Because the man in front of me does not look like the man I left behind. His skin is pale and he’s halfway hunched over.

He’s been sick, I remind myself. Trent told me he had cancer. Past tense, right? I’m not about to lose Mitch. I can’t. I won’t survive it. The same way I feel about the possibility of losing Trent.

" Get your ass over here and give me a hug, you little shit.”

My laugh is broken and tears flow freely down my face while I run and wrap my arms around him. Mitch is so small now, he feels fragile compared to how he used to feel when he would hold me tightly in his arms.

I rest my head on his shoulder and let my tears soak into the fabric on his jacket. I’ve spent so much time running. It’s amazing to be home again.

“Quit crying,” Mitch says. “Come on, Trent was just ordering pizza before his doorbell went off.”

“I was?” Trent asks, amusement in his tone. I lift my head off Mitch’s shoulder and stare into those brown eyes I love so much.

“Yes, you were. I had already asked you in my head, but didn’t have a chance to get the words out,” Mitch remarks, stepping away from me but wrapping his arm behind my back.

“Pepperoni and sausage, with extra cheese?” I ask hopefully. It’s been so long since I’ve had pizza. Let alone a pizza with all the best toppings.

“Is there another option?” Trent smiles at me, and my heart stutters in my chest.

“No, of course not,” Mitch says. “Now, let's go. It’s cold outside, and I’m hungry. I’ll be bitchy in no time if you two don’t feed me.” It’s good to know that no matter time, or sickness, he’s still the same man he was when I left.

It might have taken me two years to come home, but I’m never leaving again.

???

My stomach is pouched out from how much pizza I ate. I should have stopped after the fourth slice, but my eyes were a lot bigger than my stomach. So I just kept eating. Trent isn’t much better than me, splayed out lying on his back on the floor. Mitch is the only one of us who’s fairing well.

“I told you two not to eat so much,” he remarks, and I crack an eyelid open to watch him smile at his own attitude.

Trent moans from his spot on the floor, not in a sexy way, but in a miserable way. “Can we please not talk about eating? I might throw up if I think too hard about food.”

“I second that.” I lift my hand, but don’t have the energy to hold it up, so it falls back onto the couch like a limp noodle.

“Whimps,” Mitch mumbles under his breath. As soon as I’m able to move off this couch, I’m smacking him upside the head with a pillow. Not too hard though, because I am worried about hurting him.

“Just leave me here to die,” I reply when Mitch stands up to go to the kitchen.

“You’re more than welcome to stay here for the night. Y’all’s room is exactly how you left it.”

A tense silence envelops the room, and I don’t know what to say. Our room. The implication is there. My and Trent’s room that we used to share, and then it was the room that Trent stayed in while I needed space. Mitch kept it the exact same?

Trent pulls himself off the floor and stands, tilting side to side, cracking his back in the process. “I better get going.”

“So soon?” Mitch asks from the kitchen.

Trent hesitates and quickly glances at me before he looks away just as fast. “Yeah, I have to go into the office first thing in the morning. I don’t want to be too tired and mess up some rich person's quote. Adam would never let me hear the end of it.”

He walks over to Mitch and gives him a hug. The moment is sweet and sentimental.

“I’ll walk you home,” I blurt out, and then immediately flush red. His house is next door, it’s ten steps from Mitch’s front door to his. Whatever, I’m already committed to doing it, and I’m not backing down.

“Uhm–sure. Yeah. Okay,” Trent stutters. He can try and avoid this conversation now, but I'm not letting go easily.

“Bye Mitch,” I call out, not wanting him to see the look on my face.

I walk out of Mitch’s house behind him, following him to his doorstep. We stop and he stares at me, like he’s trying to see into my battered and bruised soul. This is Trent. My Trent. The one who picks me up when I’m down and fixes my broken pieces. Inserting himself into me until I’m whole again, but only with him.

“Are you busy tomorrow?” I ask him, putting my heart on the line.

His brow furrows, creating a divot in between the two dark slashes. “Tomorrow?” He parrots the word back like he doesn’t understand what it means.

“Yeah, tomorrow. Are you busy? We could get dinner and just… talk? Catch up?” God, I’m being so awkward and making this so awkward. This is Trent, I have to remind myself again. He’s seen me through everything, and I shouldn’t be scared to ask him to go on a date with me.

But that opens a whole other can of worms. A date implies more. A date implies that we still have a chance. I need us to still have that chance.

“You want to catch up… With me?”

I nod my head quickly, not backing down now.

“Like a date?” His eyes hold skepticism and I can't blame him for it. I haven't been the easiest person to spend time with, running away and being mean to him hasn't done me any favors. But I need us to sit down and talk, no distractions or interruptions. And if it has to be over dinner, we might as well make it a date at that point.

“Exactly like a date,” I confirm, not being able to hold back my smile. This is either going to be the best decision of my life or the worst. And I’m praying to whatever higher being above to take some pity on me and make it the best decision. I deserve something, anything. A crumb of happiness.

“Yeah,” he says, still hesitantly.

“Yeah?” I ask back, excitement causing a flutter to happen in my body. Butterflies taking flight and causing chaos in their wake.

“Yeah.”

I can’t stop myself, so I step in close to Trent, smelling the musky cologne he has always worn. The sharp cinnamon mixed with cloves. I’m intoxicated by him, and transported back to when it was the two of us against the world together. I press my lips against his cheek, feeling the warm skin and sharp stubble that’s starting to grow there.

“I’ll pick you up tomorrow,” I tell him, pulling back and looking into those brown eyes that haunt my dreams.

“Okay.”

I turn my back and listen while he unlocks the door and walks inside.

My footsteps are light as I practically prance down the sidewalk. Nothing is going to be able to get me down.