KIAN
I groan trying to stand up, the food in my belly displacing and making me feel nauseous. I ate way too freaking much, but the cheese-stuffed pasta Trent bought was delicious, and I didn’t know how to pace myself.
“Leave me here to die,” I groan, falling back into my seat.
"Will you ever learn to stop eating when you're full?" Trent asks, glancing at me in concern as he grabs his cup and lifts it up to his lips.
"Probably not."
Trent chuckles, staring at me over the rim of his glass. “Do you want to play a game until your food settles? It’s still bright outside, so I was going to suggest a walk around downtown later if you’re up for it.”
I look down at my bloated stomach and then back at him. “You’ll have to give me, like, two hours. Ohh, and I want ice cream while we’re walking around. Malt’s is still on the corner, isn’t it?” The thought of ice cream right now makes me want to vomit, but the later me will be appreciative that I thought about it, because I love their banana pudding ice cream. With the nilla wafer pieces, jesus.
“Yes, it’s still on the corner. And yes, we can get ice cream.”
Perfect, and then I can save the rest of the chocolates he brought me for later.
I force myself out of the chair, and crawl onto the bed, supporting my stomach with my arm. Staring at Trent, I’m hit with all the other times I stared at him, just like this. But instead of sparkling cider, it was always alcohol.
My heart thumps hard in my chest, knowing how far he’s come since then and how much he’s accomplished. I’m so proud of him. He radiates brightness now, in the way he carries himself and his smiles. He’s like sunshine personified, and I have to hold in my chuckle, because I’m not sure how he would take to me calling him sunshine. I like it, though.
“I brought Cards Against Humanity,” he says.
Heck yes, we used to love playing this game. Even when it was just the two of us, Trent always came up with the best combinations.
“We might have to wait for a little bit before I can do that, even,” I tell him. “If I laugh too hard right now, I’ll throw up all over this bed. And I really don’t want to pay the cleaning fee for it.”
Trent finishes his cup off and sets it on the table, then comes to sit beside me on the bed.
This close, I can really examine him. His dark hair, long enough he could tie it up in a ponytail. My fingers itch with need to do exactly that, and maybe he would let me do some hairstyles on him. I’ve been practicing my braiding skills on mine and Willow’s hair, but his is thicker than both of ours. It would be so hot to see it pulled back from his face, framing his high cheekbones and defined jawline. His forehead has a slight crease in it, probably from how often he furrows those dark eyebrows of his.
Dark eyes lined by long thick lashes, and when I look at him, they flutter ever so slightly. Softly, like butterfly wings.
“What about two truths and a lie? Or twenty questions?” I suggest, eager to know any information about him that I can. I don’t want to wait for him to confide in me over time, I want all of him laid out for me. Right now. I’ve never been good with waiting, and Trent knows that.
“Let’s do twenty questions. It’s easier. I hate trying to think of lies. I always end up fucking it up.”
I chuckle, knowing how many times he’s complained about ice breakers, but especially two truths and a lie. “You go first. It was my idea, so it’s only fair,” I suggest.
“Okay, let’s get started. When’s your birthday?” he asks, and I squawk in indignation until I see the annoyingly handsome smile on his face.
I reach for the pillow and thwack his back with it. “You freaking jerk! That was rude.”
“It’s good to see you still don’t cuss,” he says. “I thought for sure the big city would knock some derogatory language into you.”
I never cuss, ever. Only in extreme circumstances.. But that’s few and far between. That’s always been Trent’s M.O., and I like it like that. I love hearing the dirty words come out of his mouth. Especially fuck, that one’s my favorite.
“Nope, but you wasted your one question on a dumb one, so it’s my turn.”
And that’s how we spend the night, our ice cream and stroll downtown forgotten. Trent lays down at some point, facing me with our faces barely far enough apart to be decent. His fingers were trailing across the bed, tracing the small details on the quilt. I held his hand in mine, and he’s taken to tracing patterns across the back of my hand now.
Nothing has changed, not really. He still likes to listen to slow and emotional music, but his favorite artist has changed. I make a mental note of that, just in case one of my trips to a city coincides with the tour schedule.
We both still enjoy card games and working on puzzles, and whereas I have to fight with Willow because she likes to do them with nothing but chaos on the brain, Trent has Mitch.
His favorite food is peanut butter and jelly, the same as mine. It’s a comfort food, really, for both of us. The one thing we could constantly rely on.
He hasn’t traveled much besides Arizona, and I silently vow to change that. Trent is going to see the world, and I’m going to be by his side to do it.
His favorite color is green, and by the way his face flames when he says it, I know he’s thinking about my eyes. My face matches his when I tell him gold, just because when the light hits his dark eyes just right, it looks like sections of honeycombs embedded in the depths of his irises.
“Favorite TV show?” he asks, offering me a bite of chocolate. I wrap my lips around it and tease my tongue against the tips of his fingers. His eyes blaze with lust and a giddy feeling fills me.
“Law and Order, but it has to be SVU. Nothing else compares. What is yours?”
Before, he wouldn’t have said anything because he didn’t like TV shows. He preferred movies.
“Mine is also Law and Order SVU. When did you start watching it? You used to be obsessed with old sitcoms.”
“Truth?” I ask, scared to say what needs to be said, but even more scared for what’s going to come after. He nods, holding my gaze. “I started watching it after I left. The old sitcoms hurt too much to watch. So I needed something vastly different.”
“Mine’s kind of the same, kind of different,” he says. “I was watching reruns, and after one of the episodes, I didn’t change the channel. Law and Order SVU was the next show up, so I fell down a rabbit hole. I bought all of the seasons on DVD so I could watch them whenever I wanted.”
“Let me know when you’re free next,” I tell him, “and I want to have a watch-a-thon with them. Starting at season one and working our way through.”
“You know there’s like… twenty or so seasons, give or take.” He looks skeptical, but hopeful at the same time.
“Guess you’ll have to stock up on peanut butter and jelly before I come over.”
“Deal.” He maneuvers until he’s lying flat on his back, and tucks a pillow under his neck. I cuddle up to him, throwing my leg over his waist and tucking myself into the crook of his neck.
The moment is perfect. The perfect ending to the perfect date. But even at the end of an amazing day, nothing can stay perfect for long.
“Can I ask you something?” I whisper, my lips ghosting across the skin of his neck, feeling the pulse thundering there.
“Of course, you can ask me anything, Freckles.” There’s that nickname I love so much from his perfectly pink, pouty lips.
“Why did you do it?”
The air around us is sucked out, leaving us in nothing but choking silence.
I don’t think he’s going to answer, but then his breathing stops, and I chance a peek at him to see his eyes squeezed shut.