9. Gracie
“I’m Zane Lewinsky, nice to meet you, Gracie,” Trevor’s manager says when he joins us that evening for a brief meeting on what we’ll spend the next few weeks doing.
“Attending events together is a must and a big deal. Meeting with his teammates, throwing parties, and taking pictures together for the gram are all things you’ve got to do to make this seem more realistic.”
I’m toying with the buttons of my sweatshirt as Zane lectures us. My heart’s doing a speedy dive against my ribcage, and the tension snapping through me makes it impossible for me to keep all of this down.
Am I really doing this? Can I handle all the pressure? The media attention?
I nibble on my lower lip and try to keep my tension at a minimum, but the twist in my nerves continues pricking at me till I interrupt Zane.
“What about us? The stuff we really want to do?”
I look from Zane to Trevor, who’s perched on one corner of his couch, watching me the entire time. “When do we get the chance to do the stuff we really like to do? I mean stuff like relaxing and watching the sunset, riding bikes in a park, or go paint the sunset…Anything fun that we like to do for ourselves and not the gram.”
I get on my feet and look at Trevor. “The kind of stuff you like to do for yourself and not for the gram.”
Zane and Trevor are quiet after my interruption and when neither of them says a thing, I drop to the couch again, fold my hands across my chest, and press my lips together.
“The media wants a story. The kind that’ll move them to root for Trevor here. Their love for him will allow his team to lift his suspension and probably even renew his contract. This goes far beyond what Trevor likes to do, Gracie,” Zane explains. “It’s about his career and not his heart.”
“But what he wants has to count too, right?”
Trevor clears his throat and stops us from saying anything else. “We’ll take each day at a time, and enjoy the moments together,” he says as I turn to look at him.
Trevor’s wearing a smile that makes my heart soften further towards him and fills me with another rush of warmth. Every time that sensation crawls through me, it nips at my defenses and gradually makes me forget how dangerous this man is to my heart.
Flushing from the heat spreading through me, I slowly nod and smile as his eyes rest on mine.
“Okay?” he asks.
“That sounds like a plan,” I agree, and we both grin before he turns to Zane.
“I’ll handle this,” Trevor says, rising to his feet.
“You know what’s at stake here, Hawkins,” Zane says with a dissatisfied look. “This is your last chance at making things right, got it?”
After Zane leaves, Trevor joins me in the kitchen again and taps his fingers over the edge of the table for some time while I stand still on the other end and watch him.
“What do you want to do first?” he asks as he stares at me.
“What?” I blink twice when I realize Trevor’s serious. There’s no smile on his face, even as his eyes hold onto mine. A fresh wave of heat slices through me and makes me hiccup. This time, I know my skin will burn a fiery crimson and give away my flush.
“What have you always wanted to do? Ferris wheel ride? We can go to an art gallery? Or walk the streets and take pictures of the historic buildings downtown. Whatever you want, we’ll do and we’ll have so much fun, you’ll wish you had to stay here forever.”
I chuckle a little and walk around the table to meet him. “Are you trying to sell me on New York? So that I never want to go back to Golden Bay? The beautiful small beach town that holds my heart?”
Trevor closes the distance between us, then he strokes his knuckles down the side of my cheek and sighs as he shakes his head from side to side.
“I’m trying to sell you on New York so you’ll never leave me,” he whispers instead, then stops his slow touch on my cheeks and stares at my lips.
Something about the look in his eyes sends my pulse into a frenzy, and the moment between us intensifies when he dips his head a little, but keeps his eyes focused on my lips.
“Gracie,” he murmurs in a thick voice as he inches closer. I dare to hold onto the look in his eyes. Trevor’s nearness makes me forget every reason why I should pull away. I find myself craving more of it, and wondering if he would really kiss me.
His lips are merely inches from mine when he lets out a stuttering breath, then a sigh. “Get dressed,” he murmurs before he pulls back and turns away from me.
I watch him storm out of the kitchen and hear the bang of his bedroom door echo through the large house. The sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach worsens.
What do I do about my growing feelings for him?
***
Over the next few days, we do everything you think couples can do together. Now we’re on a Ferris wheel and it’s the craziest ride of my life. I toss my hands in the air and scream on top of my voice.
The rush of adrenaline that courses through me is intense, and Trevor takes my hand in the air, links our fingers, and then holds on tight while he laughs, too.
He’s panting by the time the ride ends, and we go on another ride, spending our time screaming and laughing while enjoying the heavy feel of the wind blowing over our faces the entire time.
The rest of the evening, we stroll down Fifth Avenue while sharing an ice cream cone and holding hands.
“This is refreshing,” he says as he glances down at me, then grins fully. “I haven’t done anything like this in a long time. Go on a Ferris wheel ride and share an ice cream cone while walking down the street like…”
“Like every normal person in New York?” I ask as I turn to look at him and tilt my head to one side. “Come on, Trevor, what you’re doing now isn’t that crazy, is it? You don’t get to take long walks and visit the park on the weekends like we just did? Or buy yourself a cheap beer and burger from the roadside to satisfy a craving?”
The grim look on his face tells me otherwise. Trevor only smiles as he looks ahead of him again, then licks his ice cream.
“All I do is practice and play for the team. I go to a few parties, but I never get drunk enough to lose consciousness. I dated a few women, but it never made it past three dates and consensual fun nights. A player can never be too careful when it comes to scandals.”
“Then how did you get tagged ‘Most promiscuous NBA star’?” I regret the question the second I ask it because he bursts into a riotous laugh that fills the air and makes my flush burn hotter through me.
“You follow every one of my scandals, don’t you?” he asks as he chuckles some more. “How else would you know about that ridiculous nickname?”
I roll my eyes as he keeps up with his teasing and try not to let the flush burn me to the ground. Yes, I’ve kept up with every article or news of Trevor Hawkins, the top basketball player over the years, but it’s only because I always wonder what he’s been up to.
Did he ever remember me? What we shared?When Trevor turned me down, he said he could never love anyone or imagine a future with them. Each time I saw an article about him and one of his super-hot models, my heart broke a little bit more as I mourned what we had shared.
“I didn’t keep tabs on you,” I deny now as a lump forms in my throat. My pretend cough helps ease the tightness in my chest, and I plaster both hands over my cheek to keep my flush at bay.
I search my mind frantically for what else to say and lick my lips before finding the right words. “I just…You play basketball. Everyone who watches the games in town talks about you, you know that.”
“Yeah right,” he teases with another laugh and, this time, I punch his arms and join in the chaotic bubble of mirth that rushes through us.
When we quiet down again, he suddenly turns me towards him, takes off his coat, and wraps it around my shoulders to keep me warm. The citrusy scent lingering on his coat hits my nostrils and comforts me.
I snuggle into it, loving the shield from the night’s breeze, then smile a little because being this close to him excites me.
“I cared less about anything here or anyone, and so I gained my reputation as the promiscuous jerk. Truth is, no one really cares to know who you really are inside. They see you, they judge you by their perception of you, and that’s all that matters. It’s hard to find anyone who really cares these days.”
“I care,” I blurt without thinking, then cringe after the words are out of my lips. He stops in his tracks and turns to face me right then. My eyes widen, and I adjust his coat’s collar, hoping to shield my blush from him.
When he still doesn’t move, I turn around to face him, then arch a brow. “What?”
“No one’s said that to me in years,” he says in a solemn tone that breaks my heart. In that moment, Trevor doesn’t look like the confident player the entire world knows him to be. He’s a simple man with worries and fears etched into his every feature.
The quiver in his eyes as he stares at me bares his soul to me. Every part of me races and I can’t think of anything else but comforting him, so I let go of every warning bell in my head, reach out, and wrap my arms around his body. Nothing else matters but us in that moment and the feel of his heartbeat steady against mine as our bodies stay pressed closely together.