44
Trent
“Right, who needs a lift? I’m heading out,” Clay announces as he pushes up from the table, keys already in hand.
“Me, please,” Aubrey says immediately.
Her voice is steady, but everything else about her is off—tight shoulders, clipped tone, and the fact she hasn’t looked in my direction in over an hour.
Since she walked away from me at the bar, she’s iced me out completely. Not a glance. Not a word. Nothing. And it’s fucking killing me.
I have no idea what has set her off.
All I know is I’ve had to sit here like a fucking idiot, pretending everything’s fine while she laughs with a guy she used to date… and refuses to even acknowledge I exist.
Across the table, Liv catches my eye. She leans in subtly when Kade turns to talk to Brandon.
“She’s just had too much to drink,” she whispers, her voice low enough that only I can hear.
I track Aubrey just as she pushes off her barstool. Her foot slips, and she stumbles straight into Clay’s arms. He steadies her without blinking, then lifts his gaze to mine.
I give him a tight nod—it’s okay, I’m fine—even though nothing about this feels fine.
Aubrey straightens, mutters goodbyes to everyone except me, and lets Clay guide her toward the door.
My jaw clenches. Hard.
A few minutes pass before I lean over to Kade. “I’m gonna head out too,” I say, forcing my tone casual. “I’ll catch up with Clay and grab a lift.”
“You sure?” Kade asks, brows drawn.
“Yeah, no worries.” I slap him on the back, say my goodbyes to everyone else and then head out into the cool night air.
The parking lot is mostly empty; Clay’s truck parked under a streetlamp. They’re both there, Aubrey propped against the passenger door, Clay standing beside her with his arms folded.
Clay smirks when he spots me. “I wondered how long it’d take you to follow.”
“Oh, no fucking way,” Aubrey calls out, her voice sharp as her eyes lock onto mine. “You are not coming with us.”
I ignore her—just like she’s been ignoring me all damn night—and climb into the back seat of the truck.
Because whatever the fuck has pissed her off? I’m sure as shit finding out tonight.
It doesn’t take us long to pull up outside Aubrey’s house. Before Clay even shifts the truck into park, she blurts out a rushed, “Thanks,” and bolts from the passenger seat, practically sprinting to the front porch.
Clay snorts. “Looks like you’re in for a good night,” he says, eyes full of amusement.
“Yeah. Thanks for the lift,” I mutter.
“Anytime.”
I shut the truck door and head up the path. By the time I reach the porch, Aubrey is muttering under her breath, swaying and swearing as she jabs the key at the lock for the third time.
“Let me help,” I say calmly.
“I can fucking do it,” she snaps, missing the lock again.
“Clearly.” I hold out my hand. “Now give me the keys.”
She slams the keys into my palm, crosses her arms, and glowers at me like I’ve personally ruined her life. I unlock the door in two seconds flat and push it open.
Aubrey brushes past me, storming inside and of course, I follow, closing the door behind us.
The moment she hits the kitchen, she starts slamming cupboards and drawers like they’ve offended her. A fork clatters across the counter. A cabinet door rattles hard enough to shake.
I stand there watching, confusion rising with every stomped footstep.
Finally, she whirls around, planting herself across the island from me. “Why are you even here?” she demands, eyes blazing.
“Where else would I be right now?” I counter, keeping my voice steady.
“I don’t know,” she spits, “maybe with Mel?”
That lands like a punch. My brows snap together. “That’s the second time you’ve said her name. What’s the fucking issue there?”
“The issue,” she hisses, pacing across the kitchen, “is I saw the way you were all over each other. The laughing, the touching… I get it. No one’s meant to know about us, but—fucking hell, Trent—what a way to sell the story that you’re single.”
I take a slow breath, stepping closer, trying to keep my own anger and frustration in check. “Firstly, I wasn’t touching Mel. And secondly, I’m not single. I’m with you. And if I had it my way, everyone in that bar would fucking know it.”
“I know what I saw,” she snaps, her arms folded tight across her chest.
“Do you? Or did you see exactly what you wanted to see?” I shoot back.
Her eyes flash, and she takes a step toward me. “You’ve fucked her before.”
“So?”
“So…” Her jaw tightens. “It would be easy for you to do it again.”
I run a hand through my hair, feeling the heat of frustration building.
“Does it look like I want easy right now? No. What I’ve chosen to do is come home with you, the woman I am obsessed with—who, by the way, has been ignoring me all night while giving her attention to Justin, or Grayson, or anyone else in that fucking bar—while acting like I don’t even exist.”
Her chest heaves. “You think it’s easy seeing you with someone I know you’ve slept with? Seeing you touching her?”
I step closer, tone steady, eyes locked on hers. “I wasn’t fucking touching her.”
“Well, you weren’t stopping her from touching you,” she fires back, the words slicing straight through me.
My jaw locks, the tension between us winding tighter than barbed wire.
“Haven’t I done enough to prove to you that you’re the only one for me?
The only reason we haven’t told anyone about us is because of you.
I don’t want Mel. I want you. I want all of you.
I want to tell the whole fucking world you’re mine—claim you in front of everyone. ”
“I’m not ready for that,” she whispers.
“Why?” I demand, frustration bleeding through my voice. “Why are you holding back so much? I’ve done everything I can to reassure you—to prove to you—”
“I’m just not ready.”
“That’s not a good enough answer.”
“Trent, drop it.”
“No.” I shake my head, stepping around the island until there’s barely a foot of space between us. “You accuse me of wanting someone else, and I’m standing here telling you I want you. I want to bring us out of the shadows, and you’re resisting. So, tell me why.”
“Trent—”
“Why?”
“Because I don’t fucking trust you.” She shouts.
The words hit like a punch to the ribs—hard, sharp, sucking the breath from my lungs. I freeze. Her eyes lock onto mine, searching, terrified, hurting, and she keeps going before I can speak.
“You could change your mind about me at any point. You’ve done it before, and my world almost ended. What if we tell everyone, and you decide you don’t want me? What if you throw me aside like last time?”
I swallow, my throat burning. “How else can I prove to you that I’m in this? What else do you want from me?” My voice cracks. “I’m trying, Bree. I’m really fucking trying to be patient. I know this is my fault—but fuck me, what else am I supposed to do?”
I grab her face gently, my hands trembling against her cheeks. “Do you want me to carve your name into my chest? Because I’ll do it. Want me to never talk to another woman again? Want me to tell you that I love you? Because I fucking do. I love you.”
Her breath stutters, tears streaming as she stares up at me.
“But it wouldn’t be enough, would it?” I whisper, the truth landing like a stone between us.
Her lips part, but no sound comes out—just a shaky breath. Her eyes fall closed like my words physically hurt.
“Trent…” she whispers, voice barely holding together.
I drop my hands from her cheeks, letting them fall to my sides causing the space between us to suddenly feel like miles.
“That’s what I thought,” I murmur, stepping back.
She swallows hard, hugging her arms around herself. “I’m scared, okay? I’m scared of giving you everything and watching you walk away with all of it.”
I let out a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding, pressing my tongue to the inside of my cheek as I look away. Hearing it hurts more than I expected… but it’s honest. Honest in the way pain usually is.
“You think I’m gonna wake up one day and just… stop wanting you? That I’m going to get bored? That you’re some temporary fucking distraction I’m gonna toss aside when something ‘easier’ comes along?”
Her eyes well again, and she nods once—barely, but enough.
Something in me cracks.
“Aubrey.” Her name scrapes out of me, rough and strained. “You are the hardest thing I’ve ever wanted. And I want you anyway. Every day. Every hour. Even when you’re fucking infuriating. Even when you’re pushing me away.”
“I need more time,” she whispers, voice trembling.
“How much more time?” I ask quietly.
“I… I don’t know.”
Those three words hit harder than any punch I’ve ever taken.
My chest tightens. My throat burns. And I let it out—not anger, not frustration—just truth.
“I can’t have half of you while the rest of you tries to figure out if I’m worthy of the other half.
I can’t be your secret. I can’t be desperately, madly, completely in love with you and pretend I’m not.
I can’t touch you in private and keep my distance in public.
It’s killing me, Bree. I can’t do that anymore. ”
Her breath catches. “How can you say you love me and give up so easily?”
I laugh—broken, humorless. “You think this is easy for me? You think I don’t want to just say ‘fuck it’ and keep going exactly how we have been, just so I can have some part of you?
Any part you’ll give me?” I press my hand to my chest, because it feels like something is splitting open inside. “This is anything but easy.”
I take a step closer, not touching her—just close enough for her to feel the weight of what I’m saying.
“I’m standing here telling the woman I love that I want her to love me back. To trust me. To give me all of her.” My voice cracks, raw and unfiltered. “And you won’t do it.”
Another tear slips down her cheek, and she sucks in a shaky breath like she’s drowning.
“Trent…” she whispers.
But I can hear it—the fear, the hesitation, the wall she still won’t let me climb.
And despite everything in me wanting to reach for her…
I don’t.
“I can’t do this anymore.” The words scrape out of me, raw and shaking.
Her face crumples. “So it’s just over? You’re just going to walk away?”
“I not walking away,” I say, voice breaking right down the middle. “You’re pushing me.”
“That’s not fair,” she whispers, shaking her head. “I just need a bit more time.”
“I can’t give you that,” I fire back, the truth ripping straight out of me. “Don’t you understand? You’re ripping my fucking heart out.”
She flinches like the words hit her physically, her arms wrapping around herself as she tries to swallow the sob climbing her throat.
“I’m not trying to hurt you,” she manages, voice shaking.
“But you are,” I say gently—painfully. “Every time you tell me you’re scared. Every time you pull back. Every time you look at me like I’m going to break you again. You don’t trust me with your heart, Bree. And I’m standing here handing you mine.”
She shakes her head as a sob slips from her lips, her eyes shining, wide and wrecked. Her breathing turns uneven, like she’s trying to hold herself together and failing.
“I love you, Aubrey Jenkins,” I say—steady, certain, no hesitation. “But if you’re never going to believe in us… then loving you is not enough to save me.”
Her eyes widen, panic flooding them like rising water. “Trent—”
“I’m not walking away,” I tell her, even as I take a step back. “But I can’t keep standing still while you decide if I’m worth the risk.”
She reaches a hand toward me… but it falls short, trembling.
“Please,” she whispers. “Don’t go.”
And that—that—is the first real crack in her wall.
“I have to,” I breathe, the words breaking in my throat.
Her chin quivers. “Please,” she repeats, smaller this time. A plea. A confession. A wound.
I step forward one last time and pull her into me, her body collapsing against my chest like she’s been holding herself up for far too long. My own tears spilling as I press a soft kiss to the top of her head.
For a heartbeat, I let myself hold her. Let myself imagine a world where this moment fixes everything.
It doesn’t.
I pull back.
Her fingers clutch the air where I was, but I’m already moving—already turning away—already breaking both of us.
“Aubrey…” I whisper, voice torn apart. “I love you.”
Then I walk out of her house, the sound of her quiet, shattering sobs chasing me into the night.