Page 20 of Fear of Intimacy

“My parents were alcoholics,” Trevor said after a moment. “They weren’t around much, and when they were, they were too hammered to do much.”

I stayed quiet, letting him talk. I knew that sometimes people simply needed someone to listen without receiving any pity back. I also knew firsthand how annoying that could be—people feeling sorry for you.

“My mom would get sober once in a while, long enough to remember she had a son and get some groceries, before she fell off the wagon again.”

“How old were you?” I asked softly, peeking up at him. His jaw was tense, and he was staring straight ahead, hands stuffed in his pockets.

“Eight.”

My chest squeezed painfully. He was so young and had to deal with absent parents who relied heavily on alcohol to get them through. I didn’t miss the underlying meaning of his words. That he had to fend for himself when his parents were under the influence. Just the thought of that made me want to embrace him in a hug and never let go. No child, letalone one that young, should have to take care of himself and his parents.

“So yeah, I know a thing or two.”

I suddenly saw Trevor in a different light. Yes, he was still the cocky playboy hockey player but knowing a little bit of his childhood, I could tell there was a lot more than met the eye with him.

When Trevor’s gaze met mine, something seemed to pass between us. I wasn’t sure what it was but instinct told me that wouldn’t be the last time I felt it.

8

TASHA

“How can you even think that?” I scoffed.

“Because it’s true.” Trevor shot back.

“It’s the furthest from the truth.” I countered.

“Doritos are the best chips.” Trevor said. I looked at him like snakes were coming out of his ears.

“Doritos? Out of all the chips out there you choose them?” I retorted, the idea of Doritos being the best chip made my face crinkle.

“And you think Fritos are the best?” Trevor sent me a look of his own. One that told me he didn’t agree.

“The chili cheesetwistFritos, first of all. And second, they are better than Doritos.”

“What’s so wrong with them?”

“They’re just so…” I tried to come up with a better word. “Plain.”

“I can’t even look at you right now,” he said dramatically, turning his body in the other direction.

“I didn’t say they were disgusting, just plain.”

“So, that means you thinkI’mplain.” Trevor flung back.

“I mean…”

“I am not plain!” He turned around to gape at me, eyes wide in fake horror. I barely had time to look at his feet before he kicked a huge chunk of sand at me, hitting my dress in the process.

“Trevor!” I had already cleaned the stuff out of places that I didn’t even understand how it got there. I didn’t want to do it again.

“What?” He looked at me innocently, but the teasing smirk on his face was anything but.

“If you get sand in my freshly washed hair, you will feel a world of pain,” I threatened, narrowing my eyes at him.

“Oh, really?” I watched him closely as he shifted in his spot on the log near the bonfire. I didn’t trust him for one single second.

“Trevor,” I warned. I watched as he bent to the side, grabbing a handful of the coarse but tiny grains. It was the kind that stuck to everything it touched.

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