Page 11 of Craving Venom

Trevor smiles at my half-hearted “Yeah, maybe,” as though he’s convinced I’m secretly dying to conquer a mountain with him. Meanwhile, I’m focused on the fries between us, reaching for one and dipping it in ketchup.

“You’ve got to try these,” I say, pointing to the basket. “They’re, like, the only thing keeping me awake right now.”

“Awake? Am I boring you already?” Trevor teases, but there’s no bite to it.

“Not boring,” I say through a bite of fry, “just... I didn’t sleep much last night.” Which isn’t entirely a lie.

Trevor grabs a fry, laughing softly. “Fair enough. Late-night study session?”

I shrug, not offering more, and we let the conversation settle into something lighter. It’s nice, easy even, and for a moment, I stop overthinking. Trevor’s not pushy, just filling the air with enough chatter to make me forget how conflicted I feel.

I’m halfway through another fry when I feel a tiny blob of ketchup sticking to the corner of my mouth.

Of course, Trevor notices.

“Uh, you’ve got a little…” He gestures vaguely at his own face.

“Where?” I swipe at my cheek, missing by a mile.

“No, other side. Hold on.” His hand is already moving toward my face before I can process what’s happening.

Trevor’s thumb brushes against the corner of my mouth, as he wipes away the ketchup. The moment stretches as his touch lingers a second longer than necessary.

“There,” he says, his voice softer now, almost teasing. “Got it.”

“Thanks.” I grab a napkin, busying myself with wiping the same spot.

But Trevor doesn’t pull back. He’s still close, close enough that I can smell the faint mint of his gum and the rain lingering on his jacket. His eyes flicker between mine, searching for something.

I know what’s coming. It’s written all over his face—the way his gaze softens, how his lips part just slightly. I could stop him, lean back, laugh it off, but instead, I just... stay there.

And then, his lips meet mine.

It’s tentative at first, a soft brush that feels like a question more than anything else. My mind scrambles to catch up, torn between leaning into the kiss or pulling away. For a fleeting moment, I let myself stay in it, let myself feel the warmth of his lips and the easy sincerity behind the gesture.

Then, like a switch flipping, Zane’s name explodes in my mind. His story. The dark pull of everything he represents. It crashes over me like cold water, snapping me out of the moment.

I pull back abruptly and my hand presses against Trevor’s chest to put some space between us.

“Faith? Did I—”

“No, it’s not you,” I cut him off. “I just... I’m sorry, Trevor. I shouldn’t have let that happen.”

He sits back, and raises his hands slightly. “Hey, it’s okay. You don’t have to apologize.”

“I do,” I insist, grabbing my coat and avoiding his gaze. “You’re... really nice. I mean it. But I’m not in the right headspace for this.”

“I understand. If you ever want to talk or... anything, I’m here.”

“Thanks,” I say quickly. “I’ll see you around.”

I don’t know where I’m going until my knuckles rap softly against Tria’s door. My brain’s a mess. Trevor’s kiss, the way it made my stomach flutter, the way it didn’t compare to the storm Zane stirs in me. I need sense. Sanity. Tria always has both.

I twist the knob, push the door open and stop dead in my tracks.

“Oh—holy shit,” I blurt, stumbling back a step.

Tria’s on top of Xaden. Naked.

---