by Gia Riley
Once inside, I set my bag down on the kitchen table and take a look around. The trailer’s as sparsely decorated as it was the last time I was here with generic furniture and next to nothing on the counters. Other than a little bit of dust on top of the coffee table, it’s clean. I check the bathroom for soap and toilet paper, and there’s even a tube of toothpaste on the edge of the sink. All of these things give me hope that Trey will be back. But his bed doesn’t look like it’s been slept in, and the dull ache in my chest returns. Thoughts of him sleeping someplace else with another woman—a woman his age who’s old enough to give him what he needs—weasel their way into my heart.
When I pull back the covers and rest my head on his pillow, I get a whiff of his cologne and feel a little better. Surely, if I can still smell it, he was here not long ago. Being wrapped up in his scent is the closest I’ve felt to him since he held my hand at the hospital and told me he’d be back for me. He wouldn’t have said that if he hadn’t meant it.
But a half hour of waiting turns into an hour, and then the worrying’s all for nothing. My favorite sound pulls in the driveway, and then I hear the jingle of keys and his boots against the linoleum as he walks back down the narrow hallway, toward the bedroom.
It’s so quiet, I can hear the teeth of his zipper part as he opens his leather jacket and sheds it. When his footsteps stop, he’s standing in the doorway, his eyes raking over my body.
I want to jump out of bed and into his arms, like I’ve done so many times before, but seeing Trey after all these weeks feels different. The energy quickly shifts from want to need as he takes careful steps toward me.
When he’s standing in front of me, I tilt my head back and tuck one of my fingers into the front pocket of his jeans. “I missed you,” I whisper.
I expect the same in return, but I don’t get it.
Instead, his voice is tough, like he’s talking to one of his clients and not his girl. “You shouldn’t be here,” he says. “It’s not safe anymore.”
“When I texted you, I told you I was coming. I figured, when you didn’t respond, you were okay with it.”
“What if I hadn’t shown? You’d have been here all alone, and anyone could have gotten to you, Winnie.”
“But that didn’t happen. You came, just like I knew you would.”
He’s nervous. Trey’s never been nervous around me. Confident, yes. Scared, no.
“Next time, I’ll meet you wherever you want me to. Someplace safer if you don’t want me here.”
His brows rise toward his hairline, and I’ve never done that either. Surprising Trey is hard.
“You want a next time?” he asks. “Even after what happened here?”
“Nothing happened here. All the bad stuff happened across the street and at The Whip. I’m happy here, Trey. But I don’t want a next time. I want forever.”
He closes his eyes and pulls me until I’m standing. I wrap my arms around his neck, and he tightly holds me around my waist. His squeeze is as hard as mine.
God, I’ve missed him.
“Are they good to you? At the home?”
I pull back far enough to see his face and cup the back of his neck with my hands. His skin’s so soft and smooth, and he’s tan from riding his bike.
“Cindy and Doug are strict, but living there is good so far. I have food and a place to sleep, so I can’t really complain. The hardest parts are not being able to come and go when I want and not seeing you.”
“We knew that would be a challenge, no matter where you went.”
“I know.”
I don’t think he’d be able to live with himself if I were in another unhappy home and he couldn’t do anything about it.
“You get along with the other kids?”
I hate when he calls them kids. It makes me feel young and makes him seem so much older than he really is.
“They’re fine. I go to school with one of them.”
“How jealous is Jasper?”
“How’d you know it was a guy?”
“Look at you, Winn. You’re gorgeous. There’s always going to be a guy.”
This time, I know I’m blushing. It’s there, splattered across my face for him to see.
“The only guy I want is standing right in front of me. Jasper and Dray are just friends.”
Trey swallows and says, “I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to hearing you say those words.”
“I’ll say them until you believe me. Just treat me like you would if I wasn’t Winnie. Treat me like the other women you’ve been with.”
“If I did that, I’d hate myself. You’re special, Winn. And I want you. God, do I want you, but we have to be patient.”
“Why?”
I run my hands across his shoulders and down his arms. He shivers when I get to his hips, so I lightly tickle my fingertips beneath the band of his jeans, hoping for even more of a reaction. I get one.
“Only we’ll know the truth, and we won’t tell anyone else. It’ll be our secret for a couple of more months.”
“You deserve to be more than a secret.”
“Let me decide what I deserve, okay? If I wasn’t okay with it, I wouldn’t be here. You know that.”
“I do. You’re the most determined, stubborn girl when you want to be.”
“Are you seeing someone else?” I don’t know why I ask him. Maybe because my biggest fear in life is time. I’m afraid all the waiting will make me lose Trey.
“What made you ask that?”
“This place looks nothing like your apartment in the city. And I’m not across the street anymore. There’s nobody for you to watch and no reason for you to stay here.”
He brushes his lips over mine and sucks the bottom one into his mouth. “You’re my reason for everything, Winn. I don’t always sleep here. Sometimes, I spend a couple of hours here just to feel closer to you, and other times, I stay away because I can still feel you across the street. Everything in the trailer park reminds me of where you’ve been and who hurt you. Being here is a double-edged sword. But I couldn’t get rid of it because of moments like these.”
His answer gives me goose bumps, but he didn’t answer the question, not entirely.
So, I ask it in a different way, the most direct way I can think of, and I decide I’ll be okay with whatever response I get, no matter how bad it hurts to hear. “Are you sleeping with anyone, Trey?”
His eyes change from adoring to stormy, and he grabs my face and crashes his lips against mine. It’s the most unforgiving kiss I’ve ever been given. It’s the best kiss I’ve ever had.
My scalp prickles when his fingers work their way through my hair, and we get spun around until I’m pressed up against the closet door. I jump a little when he lifts me under my ass, and then I wrap my legs around his waist. The gentle grind of his hips sets me on fire. Suddenly, I can’t get close enough to Trey.
The little groans and whimpers that sneak out of me only make him move faster until we’re spun around again, and I’m flat on my back on the bed. Trey hovers over me and looks at me like he’s never looked at me before. If I’d known I’d get that kind of reaction, I’d have asked him a long time ago.
“There’s nobody else,” he says. “Just you, Winn.”
I believe every syllable that comes out of his mouth. “Touch me, Trey. Just this once, break your rules.”
Other than the time we showered together, Trey’s never tried to push the limits or venture into the gray areas—those foggy areas where touching becomes taking, and then it leads to giving. I want him to go there more than anything, so I try to make it easier for him. I decide to make the first decision, and I pop the button on his jeans. He lets me pull the zipper down, and then I slide my hand inside, running my palm up and down his length.
“Winn, you need to stop. What you’re doing is wrong.”
That’s where he’s wrong. Nothing has ever felt as good in my hand as him. The only way it could get better is if he was touching me at the s
ame time, so I take his open palm and press it between my legs.
At first, he doesn’t move. He just cups me and breathes hard into the crook of my neck. If I were anyone else, he wouldn’t hold back.
“Don’t make me a mistake, Trey. Just touch me like I want you to.”
“You’re not a mistake, Winn. You’re perfect. But, if you regret this, if you regret us, I won’t be able to live with myself.”
“No regrets,” I whisper.
My phone chimes from my pocket, and Trey stops kissing me.
“Check it.”
“Cindy doesn’t have my number. She doesn’t know about the phone. It’s probably just Jasper.”
I pull Trey closer and kiss the edge of his mouth. He groans, and his hand moves without me asking. His fingers inch toward my waistband, and then they skim across the sensitive skin beneath my belly button.
Another text, and then another follows that one. The goofy ringtone Jasper uses for when he calls starts playing, and it’s impossible to ignore.
“Answer it,” Trey says with a hint of annoyance.
I’m annoyed, too, because I don’t want this to end.
“Only if you don’t stop.”
“Answer it,” he says again.
I grab the phone and say, “Hello?”
Trey sits up, and I grab him.
Please, I mouth.
“Winnie? You there?”
It’s not Jasper.
“How’d you get my number, Dray?”
That gets Trey’s attention. He lays me down and kisses my neck hard, sucking my skin into his mouth. His fingers pinch my nipple, and my hips buck from the sting of pain and then the pleasure that follows. I like jealous Trey. He doesn’t make me beg.
“Jasper’s called me twice, Winnie. I have no idea how he even got my number, but he said you weren’t answering his texts. He asked to talk to you, and it slipped out that you weren’t here. I’m sorry.”
“What’d you tell him?”
“I told him you were with Cindy, but I’m not sure he bought it. I just wanted you to know in case you run into him. Wherever you are.”
“Thanks, Dray.”
“Call Cindy soon. Don’t make me look bad.”
“I will,” I tell him. “I promise.”
And then I hang up without saying good-bye because Trey’s hand sneaks down my pants, and he circles my clit. The phone slides out of my hand from the little bit of pressure.
“Who was that?” he asks.
“Dray. From the home. The one I told you I go to school with. He’s covering for me.”
“Do I need to worry about him?”
“Not even a little.”
Dray might be one of the most popular kids at school, but he has nothing on Trey. Trey’s the only one who can touch me and mean it. The only one who makes it hard for me to breathe just from a simple look and an unexpected touch.
“I’ll make you feel good, and then I have to take you home, Winn. Okay?”
All I can do is nod. Trey presses harder on my clit and then rubs in faster circles. I ride his hand and press his mouth against mine. It’s the most he’s ever given me and still probably as PG as he’s ever been with a woman.
I want to be more for him.
I need to give him what anyone else would.
But Trey won’t let me.
Afterward, he slides his hand out of my pants and barely looks at me. He walks into the bathroom and closes the door. I hear the water run, and then he either kicks the wall or punches the door—I’m not sure which.
I’m still shaking, but I get up and stand on the other side of the door. Pressing my hands against the wood, I whisper his name. Then, I say, “Trey,” again, louder this time. “Let me in.”
The doorknob turns, and he’s standing in front of me, looking as sexy as he’s ever looked.
“Don’t regret me,” I tell him.
“This guilt, Winn. What I just did to you is against the law. Don’t you get that? If anyone ever found out…if you slipped just once—”
“You’d go to jail. I know. But I’ll never tell, Trey. I’ll be your secret.”
He reaches for me and pulls me against his chest. Then, he kisses the top of my head and runs his hands down my back and over my butt. “My job is to protect you.”
“No, your job is to love me.”
Fifteen
Jasper
I’m steps from Trey’s door, trying to listen for signs that Winnie’s inside.
When my brother called, telling me Winnie had just left the parking lot at The Whip, I knew I had to find her. I ran two laps around the trailer park and then one around the block at The Whip. There was no sign of Winnie, and I wasn’t sure where to look next until Trey’s bike sped past. I couldn’t run fast enough to keep up with him, but I had a feeling he was headed to his trailer. And, if he was there, chances were, Winnie was, too.
From the driveway, I can’t see much, so I walk around back and get a better view of the bedroom. I think I see two shadows, and then I hear a thud. Winnie is inside. She has to be. Nobody else ever goes inside with Trey.
Panicking, I start making calls to get my hands on Dray’s number, but I don’t have much choice. Finally, after three attempts, I weasel Dray’s number away from his tutor. She’s in my math class, and I’m pretty sure she has a crush on me.
Dray is cool when I call. He has no idea I am huddled in the corner of Trey’s yard, trying not to get stung by one of the bees flying around my head.
I tell him I need him to call Winnie for me.
All he says is, “You’ve got it bad, Jasper.”
I don’t argue. Because I do have it bad for Winnie. And I care that she is inside with Trey, all alone.
Dray agrees to help me out and call her, but I don’t know if it does any good.
After waiting another hour, Winnie leaves the trailer with Trey, hand in hand. They get on his bike, and I watch as she wraps her arms around his waist. He squeezes her thigh and then slides his helmet over his head.
I’m not stupid. I know that squeeze is more than a sense of security. Winnie is already holding on, and I’m not sure I could ever get her to let go of Trey.
I want her.
He has her.
And I have no idea what to do about that. All I know is that it stings because I helped Trey out when he needed me. I was there for Winnie when she had nobody else. I don’t think it even matters.
Sixteen
Winnie
Trey drops me off two blocks from Sunshine Place, and I climb off the back of his motorcycle, wishing we had more time. The stretch of silence that passes between us makes saying good-bye harder. I don’t like having to plan our time together, and I hate feeling like I’m being watched every second of the day. It’s weird when people care.
“Thank you for meeting me,” I tell Trey. It seems like the right thing to say even though I just want to kiss him and beg him to take me back home with him—wherever home is these days.
He gives me one of his crooked smiles, and I’m close to climbing back on the bike. We could get pretty far away from Sunshine Place by morning. And I’d do anything to feel his hands on me again. And I can see in Trey’s eyes how much he wants that, too.
Especially when he says, “You don’t need to thank me. I always want to see you.”
“Tomorrow? Same place and time?”
He messes with the zipper on his jacket. Leather has never looked so good. “We can’t make it a habit, Winn. You have to be careful.”
Careful isn’t in my vocabulary. Not when it comes to Trey. I’m all in, and I’ll sneak out and then sneak back in if I have to. Cindy and Doug can’t keep me away from him.
“Then, I guess I’ll be your secret and your habit.”
A laugh gets caught in his throat, and then he shakes his head. A few longer pieces of hair flop onto his forehead, and he blows them away. Watching him is as sexy as touching him.
“Don’t look at me like that.”
“Like what?”
He wraps his hands around the throttle and squeezes until his gloves stretch across his knuckles. “Like you want me to bend you over and spank you.”
My muscles tighten, and I think I might melt into the sidewalk if I stand here much longer. I can practically feel the bite of the leather against my bare skin. “I think I’d like that.”
“You’re trouble. And I need to go before I do something that’ll get me arrested.”
I like being trouble. His trouble. Mostly, I like the way he makes me feel—like I’m important, I matter, I’m worth his time and attention, and I’m special. I’ve never felt those things before.
“Tomorrow?” I ask him again. I can’t leave until I have plans set in stone or else I won’t be able to sleep.
He thinks about it for a second and then says, “Okay. The trailer after school. But, if you can’t get there without getting noticed, I want you to go straight home. Don’t risk getting caught for me.”
The taste of victory is sweet. “I won’t.”
“Promise me, Winn.”
“I promise.”
I’d risk it all for Trey. He knows that, and I think that’s why he’s so scared. I’m just as scared though because being with him means more to me than my new life. My life isn’t real without him in it.
“See you tomorrow.”
Trey speeds away in a cloud of dust, kicking up some gravel, and I wait for it to settle before I turn and walk toward the house, almost wishing I were going to Tess’s trailer. What’s wrong with me? I have a good home with all the bells and whistles. For every meal, there’s food on the table, which I didn’t have to cook. And I have a warm bed at night without bugs or torn sheets. I should be thanking my lucky stars, and all I want is to be someplace else instead.
I tell myself it’ll get better. That, eventually, I’ll look forward to walking into the home and actually feel like I belong there.
Time.
