Chapter Seven

Charlie

T rent’s apartment was Spartan, with only a couch in the living room, a TV standing on the floor, and several boxes lined against the wall. The kitchen had a standard Mr. Coffee, so I zoned in on that.

“Do you want coffee?” Trent asked, but he was already taking out two mugs from an otherwise empty cabinet.

“Yeah.” I wasn’t ready for this evening to end, and this was the best excuse.

Trent bent over to get filters from a bottom drawer. I doubted he was posing on purpose, but the curve of his ass and thick thighs in such a blatant display sent a wave of arousal through me.

“Good. Then you can stay longer.” He straightened up and gave me that charming smile of his, showing off his dimples. “Sorry about the state of the place. Living room furniture shopping is on my to-do list. But the bed I got is comfy and I have everything I need in the bedroom.” He stopped with a scoop full of coffee above the filter and looked at me. “I didn’t mean you should—That wasn’t an invitation.” He dumped the ground coffee in and clicked the coffeemaker on. “Unless you’re interested. I would like that. A lot.” He squeezed his head in his hands. “I said too much.”

I was smiling at his adorable fumbling, but my stomach sank at his distress. “Hey, it’s okay. Let’s talk about it. We’ll go sit on the couch—it looks comfy too.” And the bedroom sounded worth a tour. I had to tread carefully, or I’d end up pulling him by the hair to his bed like a caveman to have my wicked way with him.

I lowered his hands and held onto them, listening to the music of percolating coffee, and seeing his shoulders relax. After Trent doused his coffee with milk and I added creamer to mine, we ventured into the living room.

His accidental-on-purpose invitation to his bedroom played on a loop in my mind. Denying my attraction to him was pointless, but fooling around with him carried the risk of destroying our friendship.

“Did you enjoy the game?” Trent held his mug in both hands as if warming them on a chilly day. How fun would it be to sit together under blankets on a porch and look at the rain? Very.

“I loved watching you enjoying it more than the action on the court itself.” Honesty was the way to go, and I’d be shit at pretending I’d known what had been going on.

“What? Really?”

“Yup. Your enthusiasm and energy were positively infectious. And I can’t remember when I laughed so much. Your commentary was priceless.” I loved how passionate Trent was about basketball. It mimicked the intense interest I had for music, so I understood his excitement.

“Most of them I repeated from commentators I heard over the years. Sometimes they’re hilarious.” He leaned back on the couch, throwing one massive arm over the backrest.

“Well, it didn’t hurt that the players were hot. The jerseys are a good look for their guns.” I squeezed Trent’s biceps, and he flexed it. The fucker. I’ve never been into gym culture or muscled men, but Trent was turning something on in me. Nah. He was turning the entirety of me on.

The coffee was a slice of heaven after the exciting outing, but it was doing nothing to wake me up. Our mismatched empty mugs stood next to each other on the tiny table, making it easy to imagine cozy mornings together after spending the night trying to break Trent’s nice bed.

“Scoot over.” I pulled my feet up and nudged Trent to give me more room on the couch.

Instead of moving further, he stretched on it and patted the sliver of space next to him. His large frame in a relaxed pose was something out of a fashion magazine. Or one of those where movie stars talk about how they got ripped for a role.

I swallowed. The air crackling between us blurred friendship and attraction that I could no longer deny existed. He was on the precipice of a new beginning, so probably wasn’t looking for a relationship and neither was I. So whatever we did would have no lingering expectations. Right?

“I’ll fall off.” My mouth said one thing, but my body was already moving towards him.

“Not if you I hold you.” Trent’s low voice was packed with sweetness that I wanted to lick off his lips.

Maybe it was the beer, or possibly the man with whom I could be fully myself, but I laid next to him, my chest against his, my head on his biceps.

“You’re so warm I’ll fall asleep.” I was so close to his neck, it wouldn’t take much for me to kiss the skin above his pulse.

“Then do.”

“I should go home.” Lies.

Trent pulled me closer. “It’s so late, it’s early. I’d love for you to stay. Unless you’re not comfortable.”

A murmur of contentment left me, and I snuggled into him. He was looking at my lips, licking his own.

He was easy to read. Tempting. Friends could fool around. It didn’t have to be a big deal. Trent wanted to experiment, and I was willing to indulge him. Yes, that was it.

I nudged his nose with mine. “You have kissable lips.”

“Prove it.” Trent’s voice was a mere whisper.

I did. The kiss was like our getting to know each other again—slow but intense, developing from innocent to passionate. He might be curious about many things, but he sure as fuck was an experienced kisser. Heat coiled in my abdomen as I cupped his cheek, feeling the stubble beneath my hand and on my face. Trent’s citrusy cologne was faint, but I inhaled it as I swirled my tongue over his. We’d struck a chord that first day at Randy’s and the note was still playing, growing louder. His lips tasting of strawberry chapstick were a sweet promise of carnal pleasures he had to offer.

He wrapped his strong hand around my waist and pulled me closer, leaving not an inch between our bodies, and showing me how much he was enjoying the kiss. His bulge dug into my thigh, and it took everything in me not to grind on it.

Not until I was sure he knew what he was getting into with me.

What if we were naked? Would Trent still react the same?

I was willing to take a risk and find out.

My packer was pressing against my t-dick, reminding me how good it felt last night to rub it to the thought of Trent. I had come twice thinking of our first kiss, of the way Trent looked at me as if I was a rockstar. If the soft intensity of Trent’s kiss was anything to go by, landing in bed with him would be exquisite.

I slid my hand to his nape, and he mirrored me by placing his hand on my lower back. If I moved again, he’d follow, but as much as we were horny, we shouldn’t move further. Not tonight. Trent got spooked once before, and if we decided to explore our connection further, I’d rather be sure he was ready.

I angled my hips away, and Trent loosened his grip, reading my body language like he was fluent in it already. He’d be a dream to play with in the bedroom…

As the kiss was slowing down, the pull of sleep became more intense. My heavy eyelids refused to open as my mind drifted off into an impossible reality where I’d never have to leave Trent—we stayed friends, and went through teenage experiences together. But it was never meant to happen.

Trent’s warm body against mine and his gentle hold were the safe comfort I didn’t know I so desperately needed. Our lips lost contact, but we remained intertwined as we slipped into the land of dreams.