Chapter 16
H ere I was. A grown woman, avoiding knocking on the apartment door in front of me.
I felt like my stomach was going to do a complete somersault inside of me at the prospect of a dinner and movie night at my boyfriend’s apartment. A night free of the kids. Boyfriend? Was that too base of a term for what we were? Ex-spouse? How many people dated their ex-spouses?
I snorted softly at myself, glancing down at my baggy t-shirt and leggings. Maybe I should’ve dressed up? I had left my hair down. I touched my brunette strands where they stopped just past my shoulder nervously.
It's not like it would be our first time together if we had sex tonight. But, it had been over fifteen years since we’d been together sexually. I’d been married for fourteen of those. Happily. I’d had an entire baby since then. I’d put on fifteen or twenty pounds too.
I looked up at the ceiling, drawing on my usual courage, pushing my glasses up.
“Mon?”
I jolted, looking back at the now open door where Trevor stood, blonde hair falling into his eyes slightly, relieved to see him in his usual gray sweatpants and a black tank top. He rested one hand on the upper door frame, leaning towards me slightly. The position showed off his muscles and tattoos gloriously.
Holy hell.
“Are you having a stroke?” he asked, jokingly. “You’ve been standing out here for fifteen minutes.
“Shut up.” I said, snapping out of it and walking past him and into the apartment with more bravado than I currently felt. I heard the door shut and the click of the lock behind me. Drawing in a deep breath, I dropped my tote bag onto the recliner, and turned to face him.
“What on earth smells this amazing?” I asked, staring at him. “Did you order out?”
“No. I cooked,” he returned, walking into the kitchen and checking a couple of pots on the stove.
I stared at his back, dumbfounded.
“You cooked?” I repeated. “And the apartment building isn’t on fire?”
He laughed while I giggled.
The Trevor I’d known when we were dating, and married, hadn’t been able to fix a frozen pizza without something going wrong.
“Yep,” he let the sound of the “p” pop as he turned to let his eyes run over my body casually. “One of the many things I learned to do in rehab and on fire shifts,” he said. “Plus I wanted to learn to cook for when I had Lacey.” he shrugged, crossing his arms.
My stomach did a little swoosh and I felt myself melting a little bit. Something about men and their children did that to me.
I walked over to stand beside him, lifting the lid curiously, as he watched me with a small smile.
“Herbed chicken and rice pilaf?” I exclaimed. “Are you trying to feed me all of my favorite things?” I laughed, looking up at him.
His green eyes softened as they met mine.
“I want to do all your favorite things, always,” he answered smoothly.
My cheeks heated with a blush as I looked down, replacing the lid carefully.
“So, what movie are we going to watch?” I was very good at deflecting when things were getting serious. It didn't help that I was thrown off. I’d expected take-out pizza later. Old Trevor would’ve had me up against the door before anything else had happened. I felt like I would’ve been less nervous if he’d just done that and we’d gotten it out of the way.
“I figured we could watch a comedy. Maybe? Or whatever you want if you have a girly movie you want to see?” he said, turning to start plating the food. He added a roll to both plates.
“Can you grab the rest of those in the bread basket?” He asked, walking towards his small kitchen table.
He really had a movie planned? Where was Trevor and what had this man done with him?
I stared at the bread basket filled with rolls in front of me and something inside of me snapped.
Before my brain could register what my body was doing I picked up a roll, turned, and threw it at the back of his pretty blonde head.
I covered my mouth as the roll made contact and pressed back against the counter. That was the most immature thing I’d done in ages. I had to blame the nerves.
His body stopped right by the kitchen table and he set the plates down slowly at the two settings he’d had ready. He turned around, pierced eyebrow cocked.
“Did you just throw a fucking dinner roll at me?”
I shrugged, trying my damndest not to start nervously giggling. I was definitely losing my mind.
“What the fuck, Mon?” he questioned.
“I don’t know. I’m nervous as hell,” I began “This is all new to me. You cooked dinner. You set the table. You’re being a gentleman. The old Trevor would’ve just pushed me up against the door after he’d closed it and gotten the whole sex thing out of the way.” I blurted out.
He crossed his arms, staring at me.
“Sorry?” I squeaked, even more nervous now.
Crossing the room towards me in long, steady strides, he crowded into my space. My back hit the hard edge of the countertop as I craned my neck back to look up at him.
“The Trevor you knew really, really well was a teenager and in his early twenties and fucked in the head.” he said, bringing his hand up to rest on my chest at the base of my throat gently. My pulse was pounding and my breath was coming in soft pants.
“I’m thirty-eight years old now,” he continued, his eyes moving down my body again like he owned it. “I still have the instinct to say fuck the dinner and bend you over this counter and fuck my claim into you.” he leaned down, his breath hot and wet against my ear as I gasped, feeling his hard body press against my softer one.
“But I’ve waited a long fucking time for this and its not going to be some quick fuck against a door. I found that I like to savor and appreciate things now." He trailed his nose down my throat, sliding his hand up to squeeze my neck gently.
“I’m going to savor my dinner and then I’m going to savor you ” he finished, standing up straight again. I watched him walk back to the table and stand behind a chair.
“Get your ass over here and sit down, Monica.” he said, waiting to push the chair in.
Okay then, I thought to myself, walking over and doing what he said in a daze. He pushed me in gently, before moving my hair off my shoulder. Leaning down and kissing the side of my neck softly, causing me to close my eyes at the contact. When he took the seat across from me he smirked.
“Thank you. It looks amazing.” I said, my voice cracking slightly with the underlying tension in the room.
“Fucking breathe, Mon” he laughed, pouring me some wine from the bottle he had on ice at the table.
“You make it hard to breathe,” I blurted out, picking up my glass and taking a healthy drink.
Trevor’s eyes darkened, across from me.
“You think you’re having trouble breathing now?” he questioned, “Just wait until later.”
He looked down, picking up his silverware and beginning his meal, while I just gaped at him.
How could this man just say and do the things he did and return to normal things like that?
Jesus.
“Eat, Mon.” he said, breaking into my thoughts again. “You’re going to need the energy.”
So I ate.
Dinner was amazing and as we cleaned up the dishes together a little later, I could acknowledge that he’d set me at ease with the conversation. It felt very domestic to be helping each other with such a household chore. He was washing and I was drying while he told me where to put things.
I’d missed doing this with someone. Paul and I had liked doing this, sending the girl’s to their room for homework every night. We’d enjoyed flirting with each other and talking about our days. It wasn’t the exact same, but it was filling something inside my heart I was missing horribly.
“Where’d you go, beautiful?” asked Trevor, finishing rinsing the sink after cleaning it.
“Just enjoying doing this with you. Having someone to do this with.” I said softly, fixated on hanging the towel perfectly to dry.
I could feel his eyes on me again and knew he could tell what I meant. His footsteps came up beside me as he drew me into a hug, holding onto me tight.
“You don’t have to do that,” he said softly.
“Hmm?”
“Avoid saying his name around me,” he said. “My love for you is stronger than being jealous of something amazing you had with someone who took such good care of you and our girl.” he said, rubbing my back.
My eyes teared up.
“Love?” I said, scoffing slightly. Wasn’t it too soon for those words?
“I never stopped loving you. I’ll always love you.” he tilted my head back now to make eye contact.
Maybe it wasn’t too soon. With our history, this was different territory. This man had held a candle for me for years. As his lips met mine gently, the last of my nerves ceased to exist.