Chapter 10
James
Isipped my iced coffee, savoring the bittersweet flavor as Trevor talked about his workout goals. That topic seemed to be particularly interesting to him.
“And that’s when I realized that progressive overload was the key,” he said, flexing his forearm unconsciously. “You can’t just keep doing the same weight every week and expect results.”
I nodded, watching his lips move. He had a nice genuine smile, even if the words coming out of his mouth weren’t exactly riveting. I wondered if he could tell I was only half-listening, or if he cared.
“What about you?” Trevor asked suddenly, leaning forward. “Do you work out at all?”
The question caught me off guard. I set my coffee down too quickly, and a drop splashed onto the table between us.
“Not really,” I admitted, grabbing a napkin to wipe it up. “I mean, I walk a lot. Does that count?”
He laughed. Not mockingly, but warmly, like I’d said something charming instead of pathetic. “Walking’s great. Underrated, actually. A lot of people don’t realize how important it is for recovery. You can get a lot of work done just by putting in more steps every day.”
There it was again. That kindness. The way he didn’t make me feel small for not living at the gym like he did.
My last ex would have made a comment about my sedentary lifestyle, would have suggested I take better care of myself.
But Trevor just smiled and took another sip of his protein shake, which he’d ordered in place of actual food.
“So, what do you do for fun?” I asked, trying to steer us toward safer territory. “Besides the gym, I mean.”
Trevor’s brow furrowed slightly, and for a moment I worried I’d insulted him. Then his face brightened.
“I actually really like cooking,” he said. “Meal prep, mostly, but I’ve been trying to get more creative with it. Last week I made these turkey meatballs with a homemade marinara that turned out pretty good.”
I blinked. That was... not what I’d expected. “Really? That’s cool. I’m sorta terrible in the kitchen.”
“I could teach you sometime,” he offered, and there was something hopeful in his eyes that made my chest tighten. “If you wanted, I mean. No pressure.”
The napkin in my hand had become a damp, twisted thing. I set it down and forced myself to meet his gaze. He meant it. This wasn’t some line or a way to get me back to his apartment. He genuinely wanted to spend more time with me, doing something he enjoyed.
“I’d like that,” I said, and was surprised to find I meant it.
Trevor’s smile widened, and he reached across the table, his fingers brushing mine for just a second before pulling back. The touch was brief, tentative, but it sent a small thrill through me anyway.
“Cool,” he said, and there was a boyish quality to the way he said it that made him seem younger than his twenty-eight years. “Maybe this Sunday?”
I thought about the quiet apartment waiting for me, and the way I’d spent the last three months convincing myself I was better off alone. Spending time with someone sounded kind of nice.
Then I remembered my mother.
“I can’t Sunday,” I grumbled, letting out a long sigh. “My mom wants me to come over for dinner. My stepbrother is gonna be there, and she’s guilt-tripping me about having a family dinner.”
“No worries,” Trevor smiled, but I could tell he was disappointed. “Has your stepbrother been out of town or something?”
Ugh. This was not the subject I wanted to land on with Trevor. But it was my fault we’d ended up there in the first place.
“No. He’s actually living with me right now.”
“I thought you lived alone?”
“I did,” I groaned. “Until last week. His girlfriend kicked him out of their place, and he showed up on my doorstep looking like a kicked puppy.”
Trevor nodded. “That’s really cool of you to help your brother out like that.”
“Stepbrother,” I corrected. “And I’ve regretted every single day since.”
He looked confused.
“Look, I don’t want to trauma dump on you or anything,” I said, cutting him off before he could ask.
“But Kent and I don’t get along. We never have.
When I came out in high school, he was a real asshole about it.
We haven’t talked in years and then he just showed up, asking for a place to stay.
I tried to say no, but I’m a pushover.” I took a sip of my drink.
“So there, now you know way too much about me. Good thing it’s the first date so you can still back out. ”
To my surprise, Trevor reached across the table and took my hand. “Why would I want to back out? There’s nothing wrong with helping family. I think it’s kinda sweet.”
I squeezed his hand, gratitude welling up inside me. I had no idea this guy I’d been riding like a rodeo bull for a week was capable of a coherent thought, much less in possession of a decent personality. If I wasn’t careful, I was going to start feeling something for him.
I took another sip of my coffee, trying to think of something to say when the entrance door to my left dinged. For some reason, I glanced over and nearly dropped my drink on the floor.
Kent. Fucking Kent was standing there.
My heart lurched into my throat. Of all the coffee shops in this city, he had to walk into this one? Right now?
He hadn’t seen me yet. He was looking at his phone, that same distracted way he always did, like the world around him was just background noise.
He wore a faded band t-shirt I vaguely recognized from high school and jeans that had seen better days.
His hair was messier than usual, sticking up in the back like he’d just rolled out of bed.
I had about three seconds to make a decision. Duck down and hope he didn’t notice me? Pretend I hadn’t seen him? Or acknowledge his existence like a normal human being?
“You okay?” Trevor asked, his hand still in mine.
Kent looked up from his phone, scanning the room. Our eyes met.
Shit.
His expression shifted through several emotions in rapid succession—surprise, confusion, then irritation. He raised his hand in an awkward half-wave, but I could see the twitch at the corner of his eye. He was not happy.
I pulled my hand back from Trevor’s and gave Kent the smallest nod possible, hoping he’d take the hint and leave me alone. This was my date. My life outside the apartment. He didn’t get to intrude on this too.
But of course, because the universe hated me, Kent started walking toward our table.
“Friend of yours?” Trevor asked, glancing between us.
“Stepbrother,” I muttered, watching Kent approach with all the enthusiasm of someone watching a car crash in slow motion.
“Oh!” Trevor’s face lit up. “The one staying with you?”
Before I could answer, Kent was standing at our table, looking deeply uncomfortable. Up close, I could see a shower and some food had done nothing to get rid of the dark circles under his eyes. He still looked exhausted from his drunken escapades the night before.
“Hey,” Kent said, standing there stiffly. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”
“Yeah, well. Here I am.” I kept my voice flat, hoping he’d pick up on the fact that I did not want this conversation to be happening.
Trevor, ever the golden retriever in human form, extended his hand. “I’m Trevor. You must be Kent.”
Kent shook his hand, gritting his teeth as he squeezed. “Yeah. Hi.” His gaze flicked to me, then back to Trevor. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt your—”
“Date,” I supplied coldly. “You’re interrupting our date.” I gave my iced coffee a shake, like a rattlesnake about to strike. “Bye Kent.”
Kent’s jaw tightened. He didn’t move.
“I just need to grab a coffee,” he said, his tone matching mine for coldness. “I’ll be out of your hair in a minute.”
“Great,” I said, turning my attention back to Trevor, who was watching this exchange with the cautious interest of someone witnessing a nature documentary about hostile wildlife.
But Kent didn’t leave. He just stood there, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.
“Was there something else?” I asked through clenched teeth.
“Actually, yeah.” He rubbed the back of his neck, a nervous gesture I remembered from when we were kids. “I, uh, I forgot my key. I locked myself out by accident.”
Of course. Of course this was happening right now.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I muttered, digging into my pocket. My fingers found my key and I slapped it onto the table. “Here. Don’t lose it. I’ll be home later.”
Kent picked it up, his fingers brushing the table where mine had just been. “Thanks,” he said quietly. Then, to Trevor, “Nice to meet you.”
Trevor gave him a friendly nod. “You too, man.”
I watched Kent walk toward the counter, my whole body tense. This was exactly why I’d wanted to keep my life separate from him. He had this way of contaminating everything, just by existing in the same space as me.
“He seems nice,” Trevor offered.
I shot him a look. “You got all that from a thirty-second interaction?”
“I mean, he was polite.” Trevor shrugged. “And he looked kinda rough. Like he’s going through something.”
“He’s got a hangover because he’s stupid,” I said, more bitterly than I intended. I took a breath, trying to reset. “Sorry. I just... I wasn’t expecting to see him here.”
Trevor’s expression softened. “It’s okay. Family stuff is complicated.”
I wanted to tell him that Kent wasn’t really family, that we’d been forced together by our parents’ bad decisions, that I didn’t owe him anything. But Trevor was looking at me with those kind eyes again, and I didn’t want to come across as more damaged than I already had.
“So,” I said, desperate to change the subject. “Tell me more about these turkey meatballs.”
His face lit up. “Well, I found three different recipes and I couldn’t decide which would be better, so I just made all three. And weirdly, they’re all—”
“Sorry to interrupt again,” Kent said, suddenly appearing at my side with a coffee in his hand now.
“But I just got a call from my boss. Looks like he wants me to come in for a meeting.” He held up my apartment key.
“So I won’t be around later to let you in.
Do you want to come back with me now so I can get my key before I leave? ”
I stared at Kent for a long moment, fury building in my belly. He was doing this on purpose. He had to be. There was no way everything was lining up just right so that he could cut my date short with Trevor.
“I’m busy right now, Kent,” I began. “I’ll just—”
“It’s alright,” Trevor interrupted. “Really. We can hang out a bit later if you want. I don’t want you to get locked out of your apartment.”
Goddamn it. Kent was ruining everything.
I stood up, my chair screeching against the floor loudly. “Let’s go then,” I barked at Kent.
He looked far too pleased with himself. “I’m sorry,” he said, trying to save face. But I could hear in his tone that he was faking it.
I started toward the door when I suddenly stopped, struck by an idea. Before Kent could say anything, I turned around, hauled Trevor to his feet, and kissed him right there in the middle of the coffee shop.
Trevor made a small, surprised sound against my mouth, but then his hands found my waist and he kissed me back. It was brief, just long enough to make a point, but when I pulled away, his cheeks were flushed and he was grinning like an idiot.
“I’ll text you,” I said, trying to sound casual even though my heart was hammering.
“Yeah. Definitely.” Trevor was still smiling as I grabbed my coffee and headed for the door.
Kent followed me out onto the sidewalk, and I could feel the tension radiating off him like heat. Neither of us spoke as we walked toward my apartment. The silence stretched between us, thick and uncomfortable, until finally he broke it.
“That was quite a show back there.”
I kept my eyes forward. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Really mature, James.”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” I snapped, whirling to face him. “Did I embarrass you? Was that uncomfortable for you to watch? Because you just completely sabotaged my date, so forgive me if I don’t give a shit about your feelings right now.”
Kent stopped walking. “I didn’t sabotage anything. I actually do have a meeting with my boss.”
“Sure you do.”
“I’m serious.” He pulled out his phone and shoved it toward me. There on the screen was a text from someone named Derek, asking Kent to come in at four o’clock. The timestamp showed it had arrived five minutes ago.
I stared at the phone, feeling some of my anger deflate. “Oh.”
“Yeah. Oh.” Kent pocketed his phone and started walking again. “But don’t let that stop you from thinking the worst of me. You’re really good at that.”
The accusation stung more than I wanted to admit. I caught up to him, matching his pace. “Can you blame me? You weren’t exactly welcoming when I came out. You made my life hell for months.”
“I was nineteen and stupid.”
“And now you’re what? Twenty-five and enlightened?”
Kent’s jaw clenched. “I’m trying to apologize, but you won’t let me get a word in edgewise. You’ve decided I’m still that asshole and nothing I do is going to change your mind.”
“You haven’t apologized for anything,” I shot back. “You showed up at my apartment, demanded a place to stay, and have been making yourself at home in my space without so much as a thank you.”
“I thanked you!”
“When?”
He opened his mouth, then closed it again. We’d reached my building, and I punched in the door code harder than necessary. The lock clicked open and I yanked the door wide, holding it for Kent even though I wanted to slam it in his face.
We rode the elevator in silence. When we got to my apartment, Kent unlocked the door and immediately went to the kitchen counter where he picked up a single key on a plain metal ring.
“Here,” he said, handing my key back. “Thanks for letting me borrow yours.” Then he stepped past me, back toward the door. He stopped short, forcing himself to take a deep breath before he glanced back at me. “And thank you for letting me stay here.”
He was angry, that was easy to see. But the way he thanked me was weirdly… genuine.
“You’re welcome,” I replied.
The door shut behind him, and I was left standing there, trying to figure out if I hated him more or less than I did two hours ago.