Stay A Little Longer

by Jess Bryant

  Trent wasn’t here. He’d left with Lemon and Shane and he hadn’t come back. Not yet. The little voice in the back of his head argued that he’d probably left town for good after the shit Lance pulled this morning but reasonably he knew that wasn’t true. The rental car was still parked on the street and he’d hated the rush of relief he felt when he got home from the shooting range to see it still parked there.

  He had no right to feel relieved that Trent had stayed. Not after his bullshit this morning. All but throwing Trent out, telling him he didn’t want anyone to know he’d been there, pretending not to know him. Pretty much everything he’d said and done should have sent Trent running because it was glaringly obvious in the light of day what he’d left out in the dark of night.

  He’d told Trent he was gay. He’d said he was like him. But what he hadn’t said was that he was hiding too. That he was still hiding. That he was in the closet and he had no intention of coming out, not now not ever.

  And why did that one omission feel more like a lie than anything had in years? Why did he hate the idea of lying to Trent? Of losing Trent? When he didn’t even know the guy? Was he just that damn lonely that one orgasm and some cuddling could make him this needy?

  Headlights cut through the twilight and his heart thumped in his chest. This part of the trailer park was nearly empty. Either someone was lost or... Shane's truck slid to a stop on the street and Lance quit breathing as the back door opened and Trent stepped out.

  God he looked good enough to eat. His longish hair pushed back off his forehead, glinting gold and brown and bronze in the sunset light. Those blue eyes glittering and that wide, white smile making him glow. He’d changed into a simply navy t-shirt and jeans and both hugged his big, muscular body as if they’d been custom made. Hell, maybe they had. The clothes showed off his long legs, thin hips, wide shoulders and bulging biceps.

  And yes, the answer was yes, apparently one orgasm and a good nights sleep in those muscular arms could in fact turn Lance’s world upside down. Because he wanted to rush towards Trent. He wanted to kiss him, wanted the right to kiss him wherever and whenever he wanted.

  Instead, he stood stock still as Trent said his goodbyes to Shane and Lemon. He waved as his friend gave a friendly honk. And then he watched as the happy couple pulled away from the curb, swinging a U-turn and heading the other direction, disappearing into the night and leaving Trent standing on the curb.

  Slowly the other man turned and their eyes met across the distance. The smile he’d been wearing when he stepped out of the truck faded and a pain like Lance had never known ripped through his chest. No. No. That was all wrong. He wanted to be the one making Trent smile, not frown.

  “Hey.”

  Trent headed up the short driveway, hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans and shoulders up tight, “Hey.”

  Lance winced when he didn’t say more. Wouldn’t even look at him. Trent trudged towards the other trailer without looking back at him and that sharp sting turned into a dull ache in his chest. Trent wasn’t going to say a word, wasn’t going to yell at him or tell him he was an asshole. He was just going to ignore him and that seemed so much worse.

  He watched, helplessly, as Trent opened the door of the other trailer. His back was to him now. Walking away from him, which he deserved, but if he was never going to speak to him again, Lance couldn’t leave it at that.

  “I’m sorry.”

  Trent paused, his hand still on the door, one foot on the step, and tilted his head to look over his shoulder, “What?”

  “I’m sorry.” Lance repeated, his throat feeling raw.

  Trent released his grip on the door and stepped back down onto the ground, he turned to face him slowly, “You’re sorry? For what?”

  “Not telling you. I should have told you before… well, before anything happened. I should have told you I’m not out.”

  He held his breath, waiting for something that never came. Trent simply sighed heavily and shut the door to the other trailer behind him. He moved closer instead of further away, which Lance wanted to take as a good sign but couldn’t bring himself to. Not when Trent still wasn’t meeting his eyes.

  “It’s okay.” He finally shrugged.

  “No. It’s not. I’m sorry.”

  “Look.” Trent finally glanced up, “It’s not exactly like I asked any questions last night before hauling you into my lap.”

  Lance felt heat sizzle through him at the memory and hoped he wasn’t blushing, “It’s not like I objected.”

  Trent’s eyes glittered in the soft light and a flicker of a smile touched his lips, “No. You didn’t.”

  “I should have told you though so… I’m sorry.”

  “It’s okay.” Trent shrugged again, “I get it, maybe better than anyone else ever could. It’s a small town. People talk. You have your reasons and they’re just as valid as mine were. I’m not going to judge you for not being out. That’d be pretty damn hypocritical of me. But I am out now, by choice or not, so I just figured… you don’t need me hanging around you, making it harder to keep your secret so… I’ll keep my distance.”

  Lance had to take a moment to suck in a breath because… damn. Trent had just hit him right in the gut. He didn’t hate him. He didn’t judge him. He’d been ignoring him because he thought it was the right thing to do, the only thing to do and what Lance would want. But the words clawing up his throat completely contradicted what he knew he should say, what he knew he should want and for once, he didn’t hold the truth back.

  “That’s not what I want.”

  Trent’s head tilted slightly, surprise painting is handsome face, “What isn’t?”

  “You… keeping your distance? That’s not what I want.”

  A heavy sigh filled the air and Trent moved a little closer, “What do you want, Lance?”

  “I…” This time the words got stuck in his throat and he couldn’t force them out no matter how hard he tried. Self-preservation and years of experience told him it was impossible. He couldn’t say it. Shouldn’t say it.

  He couldn’t tell this gorgeous man that he wanted him, that he wanted to spend time with him, wanted to kiss him and touch him, wanted him in his bed and in his life. The words wouldn’t come and he made a noise that didn’t sound human, an embarrassing noise of defeat. He grit his teeth and hung his head, knowing he didn’t deserve any of that. Not when he couldn’t promise anything in return, didn’t have anything to give. Couldn’t even say the damn words.

  “Hey.” That deep, rich voice was soft and close, so damn close that the touch that came a second later didn’t even surprise him. It did send a shudder of awareness through him and he fought a whimper. Trent lifted his chin with one hand and pinned his gaze as soon as it met his own. “How about you just tell me the truth? One truth for right now? Something simple and easy and we’ll go from there?”

  The out was more than he could have asked for. The second chance more than he deserved. Lance scoured his brain for something he could admit, without giving away too much, and he finally found the simplest of his desires. The one that was blatantly obvious even if he hadn’t intended it that way.

  “I want to have dinner with you.”

  Trent’s lips quirked and his eyes moved to the grill. Two steaks. Lance was grilling two steaks. Not one. As if he’d hoped for this moment even unconsciously.

  “I’d love to have dinner with you.” Trent’s thumb brushed his lower lip and Lance sucked in a breath of awareness tinted with man and musk, cologne and soap, “But I want something in return.”

  “O-Okay.”

  “One kiss.”

  Lance’s breath stuttered out and his heart kicked in his chest. His knee-jerk reaction should have been to pull away, or at least to glance around. They were outside, in the wide open. Anyone that came by could see them. If it was anyone else he’d have said hell no, not here and not now, but this was Trent. And when he spoke again, his voice low and husky, his blue eyes fixated on Lanc
e’s mouth, he knew that he wasn’t going to deny him.

  “I wanted to kiss you this morning, in front of Lemon and Shane. You were wearing those fucking man-magnet sweats and I wanted to kiss you, wanted you so bad I could taste it. I’ve wanted your taste back in mouth since the moment I brushed my teeth. So if we’re gonna eat together, I want to taste you again before I taste your cooking.”

  It was a damn miracle his knees didn’t buckle. A feat of monumental proportions that he didn’t just launch himself across the small space separating them and take the kiss. After that little speech, those flame-igniting words, the last thing Lance wanted was to simply eat with the man. Hell, he wanted to eat him.

  But Trent had asked, nicely, for a kiss. One kiss. He’d been very clear about that. Not a make out session. Not a down and dirty grind and fuck. A kiss. So Lance held himself completely still and simply nodded.

  Trent’s lips twitched again and then his mouth was on Lance’s. Soft and sweet and… Oh God, he groaned as Trent’s taste punched him in the gut. Strawberries and cream. Trent didn’t just kiss him, he tasted him. Licking at his bottom lip, enticing his mouth into opening so he could slide his tongue in. He kept it light and teasing though, small flicks instead of all out possession. And when Lance all but curled into him, he drew back, ending the kiss and meeting his eyes again.

  “Mmm.” Trent leaned back in and brushed their lips together once more, “Been missing that taste all day.”

  Lance shivered and the words fell out of his mouth before he could overthink them, “I missed you.”

  Trent’s lips twitched again and then a full smile graced his handsome face, “Good. I missed you too.”

  “You did?”

  Lance could feel his cheeks heat with embarrassment that the question had slipped out. The words too. All things he shouldn’t have said. They showed his doubts, his inexperience, his complete and utter inability to keep his head and his heart on the same page. Because even if it shouldn’t be, his heart was involved where Trent was concerned.

  He really was a gigantic fucking idiot and he was racing headlong into his first broken heart with no safety net whatsoever.

  “I did. Everywhere we went today, I wished you were there with me, was hoping I’d run into you so I could invite you to join us.” Trent nodded, his eyes warm, “I understand why you couldn’t but now that we’re here, together, just the two of us… let’s have dinner.”

  Lance nodded. That sounded good. Dinner was good. He could cool down a little. They could talk. Get to know each other better. It was win win. Just so long as he didn’t burn the steaks.

  “You know you’ll have to let me go for me to finish grilling?” He smirked when Trent didn’t move away from him.

  “Smartass.” Trent kissed him again, a quick peck on the lips before releasing him.

  Lance moved back to the grill before he gave into the urge to tug Trent back for another kiss and another, “How do you like your steak?”

  “Medium rare but I think you’re verging on well-done at this point so don’t worry about it.”

  “Smartass.” Lance returned the endearment as he flipped the steaks, “You want a beer?”

  “God yes. Please tell me as a true Texan that you have Shiner.”

  “Of course. It’s in the fridge. Grab me one while you’re in there.” He motioned to his trailer and watched as Trent disappeared inside.

  Was it strange how easily he accepted Trent into his space? He was so careful about the people he invited into his home. Careful because there were things nosy neighbors, relatives and coworkers would find if they went digging.

  But there was no reason so be careful with Trent because he already knew Lance’s secret. Knew and hadn’t judged him. Hadn’t pushed him away. Was here, with him, having dinner with him, bringing him a beer and kissing him in the twilight.

  “Mmm. Thanks.” He muttered when Trent slid an arm around him from behind, offering the beer and dragging his lips over Lance’s neck as he did so.

  “Thank you for the beer.” Trent pulled away after another light kiss, “I can’t remember the last time I had Shiner. Damn, I missed good beer.”

  Lance raised an eyebrow, “You can’t get Shiner in Nashville?”

  “I can’t be seen drinking beer that doesn’t come from my sponsors.” Trent rolled his eyes, “Looks bad when I won’t drink their shitty water beer but I’ll deposit their checks into my bank account, ya know?”

  He hummed his agreement even though the very idea of being paid to drink a particular brand of beer was ridiculous to him. That was Trent’s life though. Even the underwear he wore was brand name. Lance knew because he’d seen the billboards just as clearly as he’d seen the briefs Trent was wearing last night. They were the same ones he’d had his hand in and…

  He had to change his line of thinking so he cleared his throat, “What’d you guys do today?”

  “Had a Trent Thorne Gay Pride Parade.” He raised his eyebrows and Trent laughed, “You think I’m joking but I’m not. Lemon paraded me through town like some kind of sideshow. We had breakfast at the diner where she proceeded to tell anyone that would listen about my sob story then we walked all over town so she could introduce me to people in every shop and store. We had lunch at the exact same diner and then spent the afternoon doing pretty much the same thing.”

  Lance fought a shiver. That sounded absolutely godawful. Being marched through town and forced to talk to strangers about his life and his sexuality? That sounded like his version of hell.

  “It wasn’t so bad.” Trent must have seen his face because he shrugged, “I’m used to the stares and the people taking liberties. It was a little weird when people asked me if the rumors were true and I actually got to say yes, but they were all pretty nice about it.”

  “To your face.”

  Trent winced, “Yeah, well, it’s more than I got from some people.”

  Lance plated the steaks and flipped the grill off, contemplating what to say to that. He had so many questions he didn’t know where to start. Or if he was even allowed to ask. This thing between them, getting to know each other, it didn’t necessarily come with a free pass to dig into Trent’s personal life.

  “Why’re you frowning?”

  He rubbed his jaw sheepishly, “Just wondering if you’re sick of people nosing into your personal life.”

  “Lance.” Trent tugged the two chairs at his small patio table closer together and patted one, “Come sit down and have dinner with me and I’ll tell you whatever you want to know.”

  “I don’t want to push.”

  “You’re not pushing. I invited you in. My only rule is that turnabout is fair play. You ask, you better be willing to answer.”

  Lance met his serious blue gaze. How was this not a dream? He had Trent Thorne sitting on his patio, ready to share dinner with him and offering him an all-expenses paid trip into his head. And here Lance was, foolishly hoping that it might mean Trent’s heart was just as involved as his, in whatever this was.

  “Deal.”

  Trent grinned at him, “Then fire away, Deputy. I’m ready and willing to be interrogated if you are.”

  Chapter Nine

  Lance gifted him with that boyish grin, dimples and all, and it took everything in him for Trent not to simply drag him into his lap again. He wanted to. So bad. But he didn’t.

  He’d been telling the truth earlier. He’d spent all day wishing that he wasn’t playing third wheel to Lemon and Shane. He’d spent all day wishing that it was Lance showing him around the sweet, little, Texas town. Wishing that they lived in a world where nobody would care or even look twice if he held Lance’s hand while they walked down Main Street.

  He’d missed him and how fucked up was that? They’d barely had a conversation. They’d given each other pleasure. And the odds were definitely not in their favor for anything good to come of this… whatever this was.

  But Trent didn’t care.

  He didn’t care that he wa
s out. Didn’t care that Lance wasn’t. Didn’t want to think about how messy and complicated this could get. Definitely wasn’t thinking about what it would mean if he went to bed with Lance again when he’d never slept with the same man twice. Didn’t like that he wanted it to mean so much more than what it probably did.

  The way his heart had leapt at the sound of Lance’s voice calling him back was… more. It had all been more. Everything with Lance was more.

  From the moment he woke up and saw those darkly mysterious eyes and that sexy as sin body, he’d been a goner. From the second Lance responded to him, eyes wide and dilated, breath choppy and needy, he’d known that this guy fit him too perfectly. From that first moan, to the last sigh, to those damn dimples, he’d felt Lance slipping beneath his armor.

  Spending more time with him would only make it more impossible to eventually leave him but for now, Trent was staying and the only thing he wanted was to spend every moment he had with this man.

  This man that was so fucking adorable and sexy all at the same time. Blushing and stammering at one turn and arrogant and charming at the next. Trent needed to know more about him, everything about him, and he fully intended to question him just as Lance obviously had questions for him.

  “Lance?”

  “Hmm?”

  “You want me to get you another beer?”

  Lance bit his bottom lip but shook his head, “No, I’m good if you are.”

  “I’m good.”

  Trent didn’t need any liquid courage. Not with Lance. Something about this man made him want to divulge his every secret. Dangerous. But he liked it, like the feeling, liked Lance. He felt like he was standing on the edge of a cliff and with just the slightest step forward he’d plunge over into the abyss. Besides, if this night went the way he hoped it would, he didn’t want alcohol playing any role in the decisions either of them made.

  He watched as Lance retrieved napkins and silverware, glasses of tea and water. He offered to help but Lance shook him off so he stayed put. He thought the other man might need a few more minutes to get his thoughts straight so he stayed quiet until Lance finally, finally, put the plated food on the table and sat down beside him.