Page 42 of Stay A Little Longer
Chapter Twelve
“I have to go to work.”
“You didn’t have to work for the last two days.”
“Because I was off duty. I go back on duty today.” Lance smiled at the man still lounging in his bed through the mirror as he buttoned up his shirt.
They’d had this discussion twice already.
The first time when he’d tried to get out of bed and Trent had acted as if it was a personal affront. He’d explained that the only reason they’d been able to spend the previous day together was that he’d been off duty but he had to go back to work today. Trent had asked him to take a vacation day and he’d been responsible, held his ground and gotten out of bed.
The second time was when Trent followed him into the shower and stopped trying totalkhim into coming back to bed. Instead he’d seduced him with touches that weakened Lance’s willpower and sucked his brain out through his dick. Which had led to stumbling backwards into bed and letting Trent fuck him boneless.
Now he was running late, rushing to get his uniform on without Trent pulling it back off, and resisting the urge to simply crawl back into his bed with the sexiest man in the world.
He was responsible. He was mature. He was an adult. He would not call in a fake sick day just to spend another whole day in bed. He wouldn’t. Not even if yesterday had been the best day of his life.
Waking up to Trent kissing his body, stroking and petting him had been nice. Hearing how badly Trent wanted him had been amazing. Actually, letting go, letting himself give in to what we wanted, what he needed, admitting that he was Trent’s and he wanted Trent to be his had been… freeing.
And he knew it was wrong, knew it would mess with his head to think it, let alone say it but what they’d done hadn’t been fucking.
Trent had made love to him yesterday. Repeatedly. So many times Lance was a little sore actually but in all the best ways. He’d made love to another man, a first for him, and he’d opened himself up too. They’d spent yesterday talking in between their bouts of adventurous sex against nearly every surface of the trailer.
Trent had told him what had happened to send him running to Fate. Told him all about Heath, who Lance had despised instantly. Not just because he’d outted Trent but because hearing Trent say another man’s name, hearing him say he’d stupidly mistaken infatuation with love, had made Lance jealous. Insanely jealous, actually. Which probably should have worried him, but only convinced him even more that this thing between them was more than the infatuation Trent had mistaken it for the first time around.
Lance had opened up to Trent too. He’d gone into more detail about his womanizing past. He’d explained who Maddie was and what she’d meant to him. The way he’d hurt her rather than drag her further into his mess even though some part of him had been tempted to ask her to marry him, because he did love her but mostly because it would keep his cover forever.
He’d been certain Trent would judge him. Lord knew he’d been judging himself for it for years. But instead Trent had pulled him into his arms, told him that he understood, and reminded him that he’d let Maddie go even if he’d handled it badly.
They’d shared stories about their families.
Trent telling him about his childhood with his twin brother, Trevor, and how close they’d been. Inseparable. About how his mom had driven him to all of his guitar lessons and how his dad had attended every performance he’d managed to book, even letting him play in bars by being his chaperone when he was underage. And then he’d told him about that dinner, about how his entire life had all fallen apart with just a few little words, about how his dad had gotten the shotgun out and put it to his chest to force him out of the house.
Lance still couldn’t believe a father could do that to their own son. He hated Trent’s father and he didn’t care if the old bastard was dead. If he wasn’t, Lance would have killed him himself for being a homophobic idiot that had scarred his son for life and left him without any real family to support or encourage him.
When Trent had asked if that was why Lance never told his own family, he’d been embarrassed to say that no, he didn’t think his own family would react so badly. They wouldn’t disown him but they would be disappointed. He knew that.
But really, at that point, he’d also had to acknowledge that he already had disappointed them. By being the town man whore, a known liar and cheater. He’d let them down by lying about who he was and he’d admitted to Trent what he’d never admitted to anyone, that if he told them the truth, that he was gay, that they’d be more disappointed by how he’d handled it than by the news itself.
They’d talked, really talked, in ways that Lance had never talked to anyone. About their pasts. About the present. But he hadn’t missed the fact that neither of them had tread into talk of the future.
He knew why he hadn’t. Because he was scared. Scared of the way his heart reacted to this man. Scared of how Trent would react if Lance said the things he was thinking. Scared of what he would have to do to keep him in his life.
Yesterday, Trent had made him promise they were on the same page. That they belonged to each other. That they’d talk and work this out and give it a chance. But Lance didn’t know how anything that was built on a lie could have a chance and as long as he was in the closet, that’s what it was. A lie. A secret. And no relationship could survive that.
More than that though, he was scared that the reason Trent had made no mention of the future was because he didn’t want one. Not with Lance anyways. He was scared that to Trent this was all just a way to forget what was happening in his real life. A vacation even. A few stolen days in the middle of nowhere with a stranger that he would forget all about when he went back to Nashville.
“Babe?”
Lance glanced up and realized he’d been so lost in thought that he hadn’t noticed Trent come up behind him. Trent was watching him in the mirror, his brows furrowed slightly and a worried look on his face. Lance met his gaze in the mirror without turning around and Trent slid his arms around his chest, resting his chin on Lance’s shoulder.
“You didn’t answer my question.” He nuzzled at Lance’s ear.
“Sorry. I was…”
“Worrying.” Trent smiled softly and raised a hand, pressing a finger to Lance’s forehead, “You get this cute little line right here when you’re worrying about something.”
“No, I don’t.” He nudged Trent’s hand away with a scoff because his heart leapt at the idea of the other man noticing something so miniscule about him.
