Book10-2
There’s a moment when I think he’s not talking about Christmas break, and my traitor heart picks up its pace at the thought. “I’ll go back to school with Brad.” I nod.
He takes a step forward and I take a step back, feeling the edge of the doorframe hit my shoulder. “About upstairs,” he says softly. “I wasn’t lying. I’m willing to help you with anything while I’m here.”
He reaches out, and his hand is on my hip. Every one of my nerves is vibrating. I look down, and I see his pants are still straining, maybe even more than before. There’s a smile in his voice but I can’t drag my eyes away from his pants, imagining what his cock would look like were it not currently trying to ruin his jeans. “I think you’d like my kind of help, Stella.”
Chills run down my arms, and he takes a step closer. I should tell him to stop, that this can’t happen, but I don’t want to do either of those things. “Trevor…” I say, and nothing comes out. I have no idea what to say, and my body wants to pull him closer, let him touch me more.
Like he’s reading my mind, the hand on my hip drifts to my belt, teasing my zipper and dipping lower. “How wet are you for me?” he asks softly, his hand inching closer to being between my legs. “What am I going to find when I touch you there?”
There may as well be no fabric between us the way the drag of his fingers is sending shivers running through me. It’s been far too long since someone touched me-even just this barest contact has me drowning in feeling. I’m not sure what he’ll find when his hand reaches me, and I hope that I haven’t soaked through my pants. And then his fingers are between my legs and the movement sends a zing of pleasure through me. His thumb presses inward, running directly over my clit and my entire body jumps. Trevor smiles, continuing to make small circles, and my head falls back. God, this is exactly what I wanted. I’m not entirely sure that I’m not hallucinating this, but for the moment, I’m enjoying it.
He pulls his hand away, instead choosing to undo my pants. My hips press forward into his hand, more than eager for his fingers to find me without any barrier. His other hand slips up behind my neck, and suddenly I can’t look anywhere but at him-just the way he wants it. His fingers slide down my stomach and are slipping inside my underwear when the doorbell rings.
And suddenly the world comes crashing down. “Shit.” I push Trevor away from me, buttoning up my pants as fast as I can. That didn’t just happen. I didn’t just let that happen. My son could have come down the stairs and seen his best friend coming onto me. What would he think about me then? I straighten my clothing and answer the door at the same time that Brad comes clattering down the stairs.
“Uncle B!” Brad says. “How are you?” He envelops my brother in a hug, and ushers him and his wife inside. I see one of my sisters pulling up into the driveway and wave, closing the door to keep out the cold.
Shit. I haven’t even started heating up the food yet. It’s all cooked, but right now it’s completely cold. When I turn, everyone has gone to the kitchen except for Trevor, still staring at me with that smile on his face. The smile that says he knows exactly what he does to me, and he likes it. “Umm…thank you for the help,” I say.
“Anytime.” I know he means it, too.
Damn it. I have a problem.
I let my embarrassment fade as my family arrives and I throw myself into making sure everyone’s food is in the right place and everything is being heated and that there’s enough place settings. With the addition of Trevor, it’s definitely a full table, but we’ll make do. Plus, we’ve done this so often that it falls into an easy routine, even with the addition of a tenth person. My brother, Bradley, and his wife, June, make sure that everyone has a drink at the table, and make sure their twin sons, Daniel and Mason, are setting the table perfectly. My sisters help me in the kitchen, though Annalise is excused due to the fact that she’s seven months pregnant. Instead we give her a stool and just listen as Maria regales us with her most recent post-divorce escapades.
Anna’s husband Richard is always on rush duty. The nickname we’ve given to frantically driving to the store to pick up whatever we’ve forgotten. This time it’s ice. He takes Trevor with him, and I’m relieved. I can’t seem to think straight when he’s in the same room. Exhibit A being the fact that I almost let him get me off in my living room. I should have made up a reason for Richard to buy batteries, because I’m going to need them. I get the feeling that my vibrator and I are going to be very good friends this winter break.
Brad does whatever else we need, bringing dishes to and from the kitchen, washing a pan I forgot we needed, and being a good sport about it in spite of it being his first day home. I tap him on the shoulder. “I promise I’ll let you do nothing for at least two days.”
“It’s all right, Mom, really. I don’t mind.”
How I got a kid as good as this one, I’ll never know.
The front door opens and I feel the blast of cold air even from the kitchen. Richard comes in followed by Trevor, who’s carrying the ice. I can’t help but notice the way he’s handling giant bags of ice as if they weigh nothing. His eyes find mine, and I look away. I have to stop. I focus on Maria, who’s in the middle of telling a story about her date last week.
“-I swear to god he had his credit cards alphabetized.”
Anna laughs. “Maria, how could you possibly know that?”
“He was an accountant. He was practically wearing a pocket protector. Hell, I’d be willing to put a lot of money on the fact that that man alphabetized his wallet.”
“So you don’t actually know?” I ask.
“Well, no,” Maria says. “But if you’d been there and seen him you’d say it too.”
I shove a cucumber and a peeler into her hands. “So no second date?”
“Yeah, no,” she says, attacking the cucumber. My sister has always been a master peeler. I think she can peel a cucumber in fifteen seconds. We may have had competitions when we were younger.
“What about you?” Anna says, and I feel the dread settle in my stomach.
“Yes,” Maria says, handing me back the peeled cucumber to slice. “How is your romantic life?”
In the corner of my eye I see Trevor’s head snap up, suddenly far more interested in our conversation than putting ice in the coolers. I force my eyes down and focus on cutting the cucumber. I will not look at him. I will not. “It’s fine.”
Anna snorts. “Right. ‘Fine.’ Does fine mean that you actually went on a date?”
I look at her and pointedly roll my eyes. “It means, Anna, that I’m perfectly content with my life the way it is.”
“When was the last time you actually went on a date?” Maria asks. Her voice is light, playful, but I’ve been through this with them before.
Sweeping the cucumbers off the cutting board into the salad, I clear my throat. “None of your business.” It’s been more than six months, and that date was terrible, but if I tell them they’ll never leave me alone.
“You know we’re only joking with you, right?” Anna says. “You’re our baby sister. It’s our job to pester, and after Jackson-”
“Right,” I say, swallowing the embarrassment that’s building in my gut. If they knew how much their joking stuck with me after they left…
“Speaking of baby,” Anna says. “Come with me, Stella. I brought you a skirt. It won’t fit me anymore, and it’s more your style than mine.”
Maria leans past me and grabs the salad bowl. “Go ahead,” she says softly. “I’ll finish in here.” We both know that if I don’t go with her and try on the skirt, we risk upsetting her. I love my sister, but pregnancy has put her on edge.Content from NôvelDr(a)ma.Org.
“Okay.”
Anna grabs one of her bags and follows me into my bedroom. She tosses it on the bed and I take out the soft green skirt from the bag. It’s gathered on one side, and I have to admit it’s really pretty.
“If you do ever decide to go on a date, you could wear this,” Anna says.
“Would you stop?” I say. “Enough with the dating talk.”
She sighs. “Fine. We just want you to be happy.”
I slip off my pants and into the skirt. “I can be happy without dating, Anna.”
She presses her lips together, and I can just feel another lecture coming on. “It’s just that you haven’t really been with anyone since Jackson. And now that Brad is out of the house, you could finally put more time into having a relationship.”
I sigh. My entire family is like Yenta from Fiddler on the Roof. Jackson left when I was pregnant with Brad, and that leaves a mark. I didn’t want to bring someone into our lives that would treat us just as badly as he did. So no, I haven’t really been with anyone seriously. But that doesn’t mean that as soon as Brad leaves the house I’m going to jump on the first guy I see. I’ve been alone a long time. I’m used to it. I have a good life, and it’s nothing to complain about. “If it’s meant to happen, it will happen, Anna.”
The skirt really does look good. I like it. But the black top I have on is too dark. I pull a lightweight white sweater out of the closet and put it on. Perfect. “It’s good to see you in something other than black.” Anna shoots me a wink in the mirror.
“This wasn’t your skirt, was it?”
“Merry early Christmas.”
I sigh. “If this was just your way of getting me to go out, then I don’t-”
She holds up a hand. “No. I saw it, and I knew it would look great on you.”
“Okay.” I give her a hug as best as I can around her baby bump. “Thank you. I’ll do my best not to spill something on it tonight.”
Maria’s voice floats in from the kitchen telling us everything is ready to eat, so I help my sister into the dining room. Everyone is already seated, waiting for us. Bradley is at one end of the table, and my empty seat is at the other. I was right, it is a little cramped, but nothing we can’t deal with.
And then my heart stops-because my son is seated on one side of me, and Trevor is on the other.
My heart restarts and kicks into a higher gear. Was this a coincidence due to the way the table was set? Or did Trevor intentionally try to sit next to me? If he did try…why?
I had forced what happened earlier to the back of my mind, because there’s no way that really happened, right? Trevor has no reason to want this-to want me. It doesn’t make sense unless it’s all in my head. The seating arrangement is a coincidence. Nothing more.
I clear my throat and sit down, and his leg is pressed against mine because we have less room. I can feel him glance at me, and he pulls his leg back with a small smile. Suddenly I can breathe again. He knows how much I’m affected by him, and I reach for my wine. Because if I’m going to be blushing the whole night I may as well have people think it’s because I’m buzzed.