Trent
Warmth settles around me as I wake, slow and unhurried. It takes a moment to register how good it feels. I can’t remember the last time I slept this deeply, without waking halfway through or bracing for the day before it even started.
I stay still, letting myself come back properly, and when I stretch, the warmth beside me shifts. The weight of another body registers all at once, and my breath catches as I lower my gaze.
Aubrey is curled into me.
Her leg is draped over my waist, keeping me pinned in place, like she moved at some point in the night and never thought twice about it.
One hand rests against my chest, fingers loose and warm.
Her head is tucked beneath my chin, her hair brushing my throat.
She’s completely surrounded by me—my arm around her back, my body curved around hers—and she’s sleeping like she trusts it.
My heart pounds so hard it almost hurts.
We went to bed on opposite sides of the mattress.
I remember it clearly—us lying stiff and careful, a wide stretch of white sheets between us like a line we weren’t supposed to cross.
We’d talked. Really talked. She’d said she wanted to try being friends again, and I’d agreed, even though the word felt too small for everything sitting in my chest.
Friends don’t wake up like this.
I don’t move. I don’t even breathe properly. Every muscle locks as the fear hits that if I shift even a fraction, she’ll wake up and pull away. She’ll apologize, give me that careful smile, and retreat back into the awkward, polite distance we’ve been living in for days.
I can’t do that yet.
So I stay exactly where I am and let myself feel it—her warmth, the steady rhythm of her breathing, the faint twitch of her thumb against my chest like she’s holding on even in her sleep. She looks peaceful like this, the tension she carries when she’s awake completely gone.
For a moment, it feels like before. Like nothing broke. Like we never lost each other.
I know it won’t last. I know when she wakes up, things will go back to being careful and restrained and safe.
But just for now…
I let myself stay right here.
Just a little longer.
It doesn’t take long for the bubble to burst.
Just like I knew she would, Aubrey retreats. She puts space between us, acting like she didn’t wake up tangled in my arms. Like it didn’t mean anything. And even though every instinct in me wants to challenge it—to question this version of friendship she says she wants—I stay quiet.
It costs me more than she knows.
We move around the hotel room in silence after that, getting ready to leave without looking at each other for too long. When the front desk calls to say the mechanic is ready, we gather our things and head downstairs.
My truck was towed to a garage less than an hour away. Turns out the battery connection was corroded—something simple. It didn't take long to fix, and soon enough we were back on the road, heading home like the weekend didn’t just carve something out of me.
As we cross the Mayridge Bridge, I can’t help wishing things had gone differently.
Aubrey made herself clear. What she wants now is friendship. No blurred lines. No almosts. Just… friendship.
To say I’m gutted doesn’t even come close.
What she hasn’t factored in is that when it comes to us, there’s no such thing as just friends. There’s too much history between us. Too many memories. Too many feelings that never really went away. And waking up with her in my arms this morning only proved that.
Still—if friendship is what she wants, then I’ll give it to her. I’ll be the best damn friend she’s ever had.
And I’ll wait.
Patiently.
Until she remembers that we’re meant to be together.
When we pull into my driveway, Aubrey’s car is still parked where she left it days ago. She shifts the truck into park, and for a moment, neither of us say a word. The silence stretches between us, heavy with everything we’re not ready to let go of.
Finally, I decide to break it. “I know me coming along wasn’t the plan, and being stranded in Pinecrest wasn’t either,” I say, taking a breath to steady myself before continuing.
“But I can’t say I’m sorry about it. I’ve missed you.
From the moment things ended between us, I knew I’d made huge a mistake.
This weekend has given me a chance to be with you again.
You asked for us to try to be friends — and I’ll respect that.
But just know this: I’ll always be here, hoping that one day I get another chance to be the man you deserved all along. ”
Aubrey doesn’t say anything, but she doesn’t have to. I didn’t need a response—I just needed her to hear me.
I have no intention of giving her up. I’ll wait on the sidelines if that’s what it takes, until she finds her way back to me. And when she does, I’ll be ready—holding on with both hands.
Leaning forward, I press a kiss to her forehead. I linger there for a moment, just breathing her in, needing a few more seconds before I let go.
“Leave the truck here,” I say quietly. “Clay, Kade, and Brandon are coming over later. I’ll get one of them to move it for me.”
Aubrey nods, and we both climb out of the truck. I make my way around slowly as she drops the keys into my palm, and I slip them into my pocket. Without a word, Aubrey walks toward her car. I stay where I am, leaning against the truck, watching her the whole way.
Just as she opens the door, she glances back and smiles. “Thanks for this weekend,” she says softly before ducking into the driver’s seat.
The engine starts, and a moment later, she’s reversing down the driveway. I stand there, rooted to the spot, watching as she drives away—the sound of her car fading long before the ache in my chest does.
“So how was it?” Clay whispers, leaning toward me with his elbows on his knees, looking like a schoolgirl gossiping in class.
“How was what?” I ask, pretending I have no idea what’s he’s talking about.
“The weekend with you and Aubrey,” he says, eyes gleaming.
“Did you manage to win her back? I assume that was your plan, right? I mean, why else would you go? Did you plan the whole truck breakdown thing too? Because if you did, that’s genius.
Given the way she’s been avoiding you, it makes total sense. But I imagine she was pissed—”
“Will you shut the fuck up? Her brothers are in my kitchen,” I hiss, cutting him off before he can dig himself in any deeper. My voice stays low, but sharp enough to make him blink.
“Well, just answer quickly then,” he says, raising a brow, clearly unwilling to drop it.
“It was fine,” I reply, forcing my tone to sound casual. “No, I didn’t plan for the truck to break down or for us to share a room, but once she calmed down, things were… good.” I drag my hand through my hair, pretending not to notice his grin widening.
“Wait—hold up.” Clay straightens, eyes wide. “You two shared a room?” His grin stretches into something wicked. “Now that’s new information. And I have no idea how to respond to that.”
Mentally kicking myself for letting that slip, I clench my jaw and lean forward, my glare enough to make most people back off — but not Clay. “You could start by not responding at all. To any of it.”
“I mean…” He shrugs, still grinning. “I kind of want to respond, though. So many questions, and yet not enough privacy to ask them.”
“Clay.” My voice drops to a warning growl. “Drop it.”
Clay grins, leaning back in his chair like he’s enjoying every second of getting under my skin. “Just blink twice if you two ended up banging.”
“Say shit like that again and I’ll cut your fucking tongue out with a spoon,” I snap, glaring at him.
He snorts. “I don’t think spoons can cut, can they?”
“I promise you I will make sure it does—and it’ll be fucking painful.” I lean forward, lowering my voice. “Now shut up and don’t mention her again tonight.”
“Yeesh, so touchy,” he says, lifting his hands in mock surrender, a smirk still playing on his face.
“Who’s touchy?” Kade asks as he and Brandon stroll back into the living room.
“Trent, obviously,” Clay says, gesturing dramatically down at himself before swinging his arm toward me. I just glare, my scowl deep enough to curdle milk. Inside, I’m already plotting ways to make him regret being such a pain in the ass.
“Yeah, well, that’s nothing new,” Kade chuckles as he and Brandon bring the pizza boxes into the living room and place them on the coffee table.
Leaning forward, I grab a slice and take a bite, the tangy barbecue sauce mixing with melted cheese and pepperoni in the best way.
Before long, the conversation drifts to work—and honestly, I’m not mad about it.
I never thought I’d say this, and I’ll probably regret even thinking it the second I’m back there, but I actually miss it.
The long days, the dirt under my nails, the banter with the guys.
Even the boring stuff—keeping track of supplies, making sure everything runs on schedule.
When Kade and Brandon took over from their dad, I didn’t really think about what that meant for me.
I was just glad to have steady work, good pay, and people I got along with.
But when they made me foreman… yeah, I was proud.
I’d worked my ass off for that. Long hours, early mornings, giving it everything I had.
Up until the accident, I’d never taken a sick day in my life. I was ready to prove myself even more—to them, sure, but mostly to me. And it meant a hell of a lot that Brandon and Kade trusted me to run the sites while they handled the business side.
“The kitchen reno on Silverdale Drive is nearly wrapped up—maybe another week,” Kade says, a proud grin tugging at his mouth. “Then we’ve got the biggest project Jenkins Construction’s ever taken on lined up next.”
“Bigger than the school rebuild we did a few months back?” I ask.
“Way bigger,” he says. “Some developers bought a patch of land a few towns over—they’re planning to put up about fifteen houses, maybe more.
I met with the guy last week. Seems solid, keen to work with us, and the money’s good.
We’d be idiots to pass it up. Obviously, we’ll run all the background checks first, make sure everything’s legit.
But once that’s done, it’s go time. We’re probably looking at an eighteen-to-twenty-four-month build. ”
Background checks are a new rule since Liv’s psycho ex pretended to be a developer wanting to rebuild a place just outside Elson, but really, he was using it to get close to her.
Before that, we never questioned a client’s motives.
But after Liv nearly drowned, and the scaffolding around that house collapsed—with me on it, thanks to that same lunatic—Kade and Brandon don’t take chances anymore.
“That’s incredible,” I say, proud of my friends and the legacy they’re carrying on. Their dad built Jenkins Construction from nothing, and now they’re taking it even further. He might be retired, but I already know how proud this will make him.
Still, there’s a twist in my gut knowing I won’t be part of it. I don’t know when the doctor will allow me back to work, considering I’m still very much in the thick of physical therapy.
Kade studies me for a second, the grin on his face softening. “Hey,” he says quietly, “you’ll be back on site before you know it, man.”
I nod, letting the words sink in. A small flicker of hope pushes back the knot in my chest. Maybe he’s right. I just need to be patient; listen to the advice I’m given by the doctors and physical therapists and fingers crossed I’ll be back in time to be a part of this project.