19. Natasha
19
NATASHA
“ Y ou said this is steampunk, right?”
“Futuristic-tech-meets-steampunk,” I said to Trent, parroting Stacy’s words to me as we followed her and Dominic down the sidewalk. I’d been trying to understand the premise of this play since she’d started making the costumes for the damn thing, but I still wasn’t sure I had it. “…I think.”
Trent wrinkled his nose in response. I could practically hear the grumpy growl he bit down. “Right.”
I could tell exactly what he was thinking by the way his eyebrow arched. No, thank you . If I suggested that we duck into a bar and ditch this double date, he’d totally be on board. I glanced away from him. I wouldn’t need that much convincing, either—I’d rather be doing anything else, but I needed to support Stacy.
We needed to support Stacy.
“I swear the play is actually, legitimately good,” Stacy said, twisting around on the sidewalk in front of us. She clutched Dominic’s hand like she was worried he’d run away the first chance he got. But despite Trent’s reservations and my general lack of enthusiasm, Dominic seemed perfectly content. The way he was staring at her, Stacy could have been dragging him to the longest, most boring play in the history of plays, and he wouldn’t have uttered a word against it.
Dominic really had it bad for her.
I couldn’t help but smile. Stacy deserved a good one after all the crap she’d had to put up with. There might have been plenty of fish in the sea, but prior to Dominic, Stacy only knew how to reel in the slimy ones with spikes.
Dominic was like the prize catch, all big and shiny, and I really hoped this worked out for them.
“At least the costumes will be good if nothing else,” I said to Stacy. She grinned, twisting back around as Dominic said something.
“The things we do for our friends,” Trent muttered, leaning close enough that I could feel his warm breath ghost across my cheek.
I grinned and tightened my jacket against the sharp October wind as we approached the theater, grateful when the gathered crowd moved inside. The little theater was packed—and so freaking warm!—and it was clear the show had gotten some positive buzz. Reviews were posted to the walls on giant signs, but I didn’t put much stake in reviews. I liked to form my own opinions.
“Oh, thank god!” Trent said, yanking me across the lobby. I looked over to see where he was heading. “They have a bar!”
I chuckled as we joined the line.
“I’m not sure alcohol is going to save this,” I said under my breath.
“Well, it can’t possibly make it worse. You think this is one of those shows where they try to engage the audience?”
My eyes widened. I hated shows that broke the fourth wall. The last thing I wanted to do was engage with the actors when I was watching something like this. “God, no. You think?”
Trent grimaced, looking at the bartender. “Better make it a double.”
“To Stacy Rosen,” I announced. “And the best damn futuristic-tech-meets-steampunk costumes the world has ever seen.” I held out my drink glass, making the toast in the middle of the little café we’d darted into after the show for dessert.
“Thank you, thank you,” Stacy said, standing from her chair and taking a small bow as Trent and Dominic clapped. “I’d like to thank my adoring fans. And Natasha for being my sounding board for design ideas even when she had no idea what I was talking about.”
“I now know far more about sequins than any person who doesn’t work in fashion should,” I said.
Stacy plopped back down in her seat, grinning as Dominic planted a kiss on her cheek. “It was pretty good, right?”
“For an original play,” Trent said, eating the rest of his carrot cake. “I was surprisingly entertained.”
“The humor was great,” Dominic said. “Strong performances. Solid direction. But everything paled in comparison to the costumes.”
Stacy rolled her eyes, her cheeks flushing as Dominic tugged her chair closer, his lips caressing her neck. They were going to need to get themselves a room if this carried on. I glanced at Trent, and he smirked, probably getting some ideas of his own.
“Behave,” I mouthed under my breath. He licked the icing from his fork deliberately slowly.
“The more positive buzz the show gets, the more attention my costumes will get,” Stacy said, practically vibrating with excitement. “I really think this could be the catalyst that gets me bigger gigs with better companies.”
I reached out and squeezed her hand. “I’m really proud of you, Stace.”
“Thanks.”
“I’m really proud of you too,” Dominic said, lowering his voice as he added, “I’ll show you how much later.”
Stacy flushed an even darker shade of red, but she leaned in closer to him. I got the sense that they were both very ready to be alone together.
“I’ve got this,” Trent said, motioning to the bill, “if you two have to head off.” He caught Dominic’s eye. They had a silent conversation involving arched eyebrows and smirks. When it was done, Dominic announced that they were leaving. Stacy thanked us for coming, promised to message me when she was home, and the two of them headed off.
Once Trent had taken care of the bill, he tucked his arm through mine, the two of us wandering back toward his place in Greenwich Village. The show had been an off off-Broadway production, so we were only about a twenty-minute walk from his place, and despite the chill, I enjoyed tucking into his side.
“Did you really like it?” I asked now that we were alone.
“Let’s put it this way. I didn’t hate it. I mostly just enjoyed spending the evening with you.”
My lips twisted.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“You’re trying not to laugh,” he grumbled. “What is it?”
“Sometimes I just wonder how this Coffeezilla of a man can endure such hardship for me.”
“Because you keep me properly caffeinated. And you’re damn sexy.” He bussed my temple with his lips. “You’re cold.”
“I’m waiting for someone to warm me up,” I said pointedly.
“Are you, now? Want to get warm and toasty by the fire?”
“I was thinking we could do this the old-fashioned way—sharing body heat.” Trent sped up, and I laughed. “Someone obviously likes the sound of that.”
“I’m about to set you on fire, my little Hellcat.”
I smirked. “I’d like to see you try.”
He pulled us to a stop, catching me in his arms as he planted a decidedly unchaste kiss on my lips. “Challenge accepted.” He took my hand, hurrying us across the next street.
By the time we reached his apartment, my heart was pounding, and I felt like I was tingling all over for reasons that had nothing to do with the cold.
“Finally,” Trent breathed against my lips as he closed the door behind us. He pressed his lips to my neck, and I kicked off my shoes. “I thought we’d never get here.”
“It was only a twenty-minute walk.”
“Twenty minutes too long,” he growled. “I need you now.” He backed me down the hall toward his bedroom, pulling my jacket off my shoulders as we went. It hit the floor, and I tried not to stumble over it as he got his hands under my sweater.
I shivered, whining. “Your hands are cold.”
“Better get that body heat going,” he said, grinning as my legs bumped up against his bed. I collapsed onto it, and he leaned over me, kissing his way down my stomach, popping the button on my jeans. He didn’t stop, tugging at my underwear with his teeth until I was squirming to get my legs free from my jeans, eager to wrap those legs around him. Despite Trent’s earlier declarations, he didn’t seem to be in any hurry, taking his time kissing up and down my thighs.
I closed my eyes, focusing on the sensation of his lips, my fingers running through his hair. “Trent,” I said.
“Yes?”
“What are you doing?”
“Warming you up,” he teased, the tip of his nose brushing over my underwear in a way that had my back arching off the bed. “Is it working?”
I bit back a laugh. It sure as hell was working. This slow, languid game he was playing was going to drive me crazy. I pressed my hand to his cheek, and he looked up at me, those dark eyes filled with an expression I wasn’t sure how to name. In the time we’d been doing this, we’d started to learn each other’s bodies, and though the desire was just as strong as it had been the first time, there wasn’t the rushing urgency anymore. And frankly, it felt amazing, knowing Trent this well. It had been so long since I’d had something like this in my life, but even as those thoughts surfaced, I couldn’t stop guilt from bubbling up.
“What are you thinking about?” he asked, rubbing circles around my hip bone. “You seem distracted.”
“Nothing,” I said. “Come up here and kiss me.”
He crawled up my body, but he resisted as I tugged on his shirt, trying to bring his lips to mine. “Natasha,” he said, the word insistent. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing, I swear.” I swallowed hard, the guilt tapping at my temple like a tiny hammer. “I’m just tired.”
“Do you want to stop?” he asked.
“No,” I insisted, rocking my body up against his. I wanted him. I did . And I really wanted him in a good mood…because tonight I might finally tell him I’d been in contact with his mother.
I hooked my leg around his hip, rolling us so I landed on top, my hands pressed against his muscular chest.
“We don’t have to do this right now.”
“I want to,” I said, smiling down at him. This was the way I must have been staring at him in that photo the newspaper printed. That’s the one Lara Saunders had seen. The same one she’d used to track me down. I guess when you had the kind of money the Saunders family did, figuring out who your son was dating wasn’t exactly complicated. She’d messaged me through 1stDibs, saying that she wasn’t sure if Trent would try to stop her if she reached out via the company.
I rolled my hips, feeling Trent harden beneath me. He held my waist, his fingers digging into my skin. “You’re killing me,” he said.
“Not yet,” I whispered, squeezing him through his jeans. “Looks like you’re still very alive to me.” I leaned over, kissing him again, even as my mind kept replaying the conversation I’d had with his mother.
When I’d met up with Lara, she was so worried about Trent. She practically begged me to tell her why he was shutting her out. The only thing I could think to do was explain that he had a lot on his mind—Dee’s condition, Jimmy’s school struggles, the problems he’d helped his friends through. She was surprised by all of it—which had surprised me. Maybe she hadn’t been kept in the loop on her ex-mother-in-law’s condition, and she’d really had no way of knowing what was going on with the Lost Boys, but why wouldn’t she know what Jimmy was going through? Trent might ignore the calls from his mom, but I couldn’t see Jimmy doing that. But Lara had suggested that Jimmy might have been hiding the extent of his problems from her, not wanting to worry her.
Trent pulled my sweater over my head. I let him, trying to get into the right headspace as he popped my bra open, getting his mouth around one of my nipples. He sucked hard, sending me spiraling into a wave of desire. God, I wanted to come. I wanted to make him come. I wanted us both to be happy…and I really, really wanted him to be okay with the fact I’d met up with his mom without telling him. I did it for him—in the hopes that I might be able to heal the breach and help bring them back together. But would he be able to accept that? From what Lara said, things had been strained between them ever since he took over as CEO. Surely now, after five years, he was ready to go back to being a family, right?
I just…“ Fuck! ” I hissed as Trent slid his hand between my legs.
“Come for me,” he whispered in my ear, demanding.
I wanted to. I did. But a part of me couldn’t quite relax or let go. Not when I was keeping this secret from him.
“Where are you?” Trent whispered, removing his hand from between my legs. I hadn’t even noticed he’d stopped stroking me—that’s how distracted I was.
“Here,” I promised. “With you.”
“No you’re not,” he said, tapping his finger to the end of my nose. “What’s wrong?”
“Just thinking,” I said. I rolled off him, flopping down on the pillow as I tried to find the right words. Maybe there was a way I could test the waters, see what his reaction would be to me meeting up with his mom without actually telling him.
“What are you thinking about?”
I bit my bottom lip. “Do you ever think about patching things up with your parents? With your mom? It might be nice to have some more support with everything Nana Dee is going through.”
Trent scoffed, giving his head a hard shake. The muscle in his jaw twitched. “They’re not capable of being supportive,” Trent said. “Especially my mother.” His voice was hard. “Why are you asking me this?”
“No reason, really.” I shrugged, playing it off. I could feel the tension rolling off him. If the mood hadn’t been ruined before, it definitely was now. “I just noticed that whenever your mom calls, you send her straight to voicemail.”
“Because I haven’t gotten around to blocking her number yet,” he muttered.
“You wouldn’t really do that, would you? She’s your mom.”
“Nana Dee was more of a mother to me than she ever was. Frankly, I wouldn’t care if I never heard from her again,” he snapped. I flinched, and regret flashed across his face. He took a deep breath, as if he was trying to get a hold of himself. “I don’t mean to be short with you. But…there isn’t a reality where my parents and I are on good terms.”
This was worse than I’d imagined. “I’m sorry I brought it up. I suppose, well…you know I lost my parents. I have a hard time understanding how someone could just…decide not to try, you know?”
“I appreciate where you’re coming from,” Trent said, “but you lived a very different childhood than I did. You had two loving, committed parents. That wasn’t my experience. What I lived through you can’t just patch up over dinner and drinks. Can we just drop it?”
I nodded. It was clear that this was a subject he was not willing to budge on.
As I settled down by his side, a chill swept over me despite the warmth of his body close to mine. If Trent was okay with dropping his parents from his life completely, if he could just cut his mom off like that, then he could do that to anyone—including me.
Just when I was finally starting to feel stable and safe, reality came along to remind me that all this security might be an illusion. If I pushed Trent too hard on this, I’d lose him.
Which meant I couldn’t tell him I’d met up with his mom.
I couldn’t take the chance. If I did, I’d risk losing everything.