Chapter 17
Kenzie
Idid not have Kiss my Roommate on my Do It Scared list, but I really should have because the spike of anxiety careening through my veins as I bring my lips toward Trevor’s is nearly incapacitating.
It seemed easier at the sports bar because he’d initiated.
Sure, I tempted him, but he took that first step.
This time, I’m the one putting everything on the line.
I’ve never been the one to lean in first.
It’s terrifying.
Trevor watches me, his eyes falling half-closed as I shift until I can feel his breath on my skin. The second our lips brush—lightly, gently—a sigh escapes him. It sounds like relief braided with awe.
I’m not a person who inspires awe. Most of the time, I’m overlooked. I’m functional and necessary, like the math I complete to make people’s lives easier, but I’m rarely admired. Even with Aaron—
No. Don’t bring him into this. The admonishment rings loud through my head.
Already, this simple kiss with Trevor feels more significant than anything I’ve experienced with anyone else. A strong pulse feels like it’s vibrating through me—a distinct before and after. I lean back slightly to get my bearings, and Trevor makes a low, disappointed sound.
That unexpected sense of power zips down my arms. I’ve never in my life felt so desirable while wearing a simple white tee and shorts, my hair unstyled around my shoulders.
I set another chaste kiss on his lips, testing the limits of my newfound prowess.
Trevor responds with a masculine grunt I like entirely too much.
Before I have a chance to think, Trevor pulls me across his lap sideways, sending Banks skittering.
“Sorry, Banks,” Trevor murmurs while cupping my face with both hands.
He doesn’t sound the least bit apologetic for displacing our cat.
I half-expect Trevor to devour me with the way he’s looking at me, but he strokes a thumb across my cheek, exhaling a puff of breath when my lips fall apart. He looks like he wants to say something but then changes his mind, replacing words with an intensity I feel crackling between our bodies.
Trevor brings his lips to the edge of my mouth, placing a soft kiss there before skirting his lips across mine.
My pulse thuds at the base of my throat, and suddenly, I’m done with teasing touches.
Sinking my nails into his shoulder, I slide my other hand behind Trevor’s head to bring his lips to mine.
I barely give him a second to adjust before deepening the kiss.
If his groan is any indication, he doesn’t mind my impatience.
Everything is frantic in a fraction of a second.
Trevor’s hands run down my back, over my hip, tucking me even closer.
I’ve never kissed anyone with this kind of helpless urgency, and if Trevor’s erratic breathing is any indication, neither has he.
Broken sentences slip from his lips, sending liquid heat pooling low in my belly.
“I can’t believe—”
“I’ve wanted—”
“So long—”
Then Trevor slows the kiss, and everything I’ve ever known vacates my brain.
I thought I understood the fundamental properties of the world, of myself, but this moment with someone I know so well but never truly saw is calling me a fool.
His mouth moves with quiet certainty, unhurried, and the faint scrape of his lower lip against mine sends shivers down my spine.
I’ve never felt so wholly consumed and cherished in the same breath.
When Trevor finally breaks away, sighing my name and pressing his forehead to mine, I’m structurally rearranged.
It doesn’t make sense how even the air I breathe seems sweeter now.
An energy I’ve never experienced resonates in odd places—between my collarbones, behind my knees, at the tips of my fingers.
I lean back to look at him, running my tingling fingertips across the sharp edge of his jaw.
Trevor watches me as I try to calculate why this is so different from any kiss I’d had before.
That is, until I push my fingers through the front of his hair.
Then his head dips back against the top of the couch, surrendering.
“Trevor?” I ask, continuing to play with his silky locks.
There’s something so unguarded about his slackened cheeks, about the strong muscles of his neck elongated and loose. It sends a bloom of affection beaming through my body.
“Hmm?”
“What were you trying to say, earlier, when we were kissing?”
Trevor lifts his head, focusing on me with an intensity that makes my breath hitch. “We should talk about that, actually.”
I bite the inside of my lip. “Okay.”
His mouth pops open before he closes it, reconsidering. In the seconds stretching between us, I fear the worst. He’s not regretting the kiss, is he? I’m about to shift off his lap, to run to my bedroom and hide in shame, when Trevor’s large sigh draws my attention.
“I like you. A lot. For a long time.” He lifts one hand to rub the back of his neck, the slightest tinge of pink highlighting his cheekbones. “Wow. I sound like a robot.”
His hand drops as a laugh tumbles out of him, and I can’t help but smile. I’ve always liked that Trevor doesn’t take himself too seriously.
“What I’m trying to say is”—he draws in another deep breath—“I like you more than an employee or roommate. I have since the start. I never said anything because I was your boss, and it would have been unprofessional. Then you moved in, which was incredible because I got to spend more time with you and get to know you better, but it also made things so much worse.”
“Worse?”
He nods, his gaze sliding from my eyes to the hollow of my throat.
“Because I was your older brother, right? Someone to pal around with, but not someone you’d consider romantically.
It was its own kind of torture. Though, I had no idea what was coming”—he swallows roughly—“how hard it would be to watch you fall for another man.”
My lungs tighten to the point of pain. “Oh.”
He frowns, his jaw tensing. “But that was nothing compared to seeing you shattered afterward. I still want to punch Aaron every time I walk into the clubhouse. Every. Single. Time. Not only for the lies he told and how he hurt you, but for not realizing what he had.”
I blink, unable to speak for several long seconds.
Trevor mistakes my silence, ducking his chin before effortlessly shifting me back onto the couch. “And you’re coming from a breakup, and this was probably just a release for you or…” His eyes squeeze closed as he winces. “…a mistake because I know you don’t see me—”
I grab his wrist when he stands. “Wait.”
Trevor could easily pull out of my grasp, but he stills as I stand, his gaze fixed on the windows.
“It’s okay.” The soft way he whispers it, like I’d never consider choosing him, like he’s used to being let down, again and again, breaks something fundamental in my soul.
“I’d need to go slow.”
His head jerks, almost as if he’s afraid to look, but his gaze eventually finds mine.
The guarded look in his eyes shatters what’s left of me. Trevor is never guarded. He’s open honesty, joyous laughter, and caring thoughtfulness.
I wet my lips. “You’re right. I just went through a breakup.” Right now, I’m more confused than heartbroken about it, but I don’t know how to articulate that. “So if anything were to change between us, I’d need…time to process it.”
Trevor is silent for so long I’m almost certain he’ll backtrack.
“I can go slow.”
A relieved exhale tumbles from my tight lungs.
“I can be molasses on a cold day. A glacier sliding downhill. A snail on a leisurely stroll.” His hand flexes beneath my touch. “Whatever you need, Kenzie.”
My lips tick upward because I believe him wholeheartedly.
Our shared smile slips into something heated when Trevor flips his hand and interlaces our fingers. Despite being the one who just set a boundary, I’m about to rise on my tiptoes when Jet cries out.
Trevor chuckles, squeezing my fingers before releasing them. “Roommates for the rest of the day?”
Something inside me wants to scream over the loss of contact, but I nod.
When Trevor walks away to free Jet from her room, I wait for remorse or worry or a myriad of negative emotions to hijack the moment, but nothing comes.
Instead, my socked feet pad toward the person who’s always been there for me.
A blush of happiness shimmies down my arms because even if we’re only roommates for the rest of the day, we’re still spending it together.