Page 66 of What We May Be

Charlie shook her head. “Not anymore. He’s going to be in DC too.”

Rachel gasped and reached for her hand. “For real?”

“Okay, look,” Maggie said, and Charlie prepared herself for the assault. Only it wasn’t the attack she’d expected. “I’ve kept my mouth shut for years. I don’t know what happened. I don’t know why Sean left and stayed away or why you and Trevor never went after him. I’ve respected your wishes to keep that to yourself, and I still mean to, but from what I’ve seen the past few days, that man is still in love with you.” Her eyes cut to Sean by the row of pool tables, his hand grazing the small of Trevor’s back. “And with your best friend.”

“I thought you wanted me to go for it with Trevor?”

“I did. I do. But you’re afraid that won’t work without Sean. Well, Sean’s back, and it looks like he means to stick with you two this time, and more than anything, I want you to be happy.”

Rachel squeezed her hand. “Me too.”

Charlie smiled, thankful for the support of her friends, but then her face fell as she thought about the hard truths she, Trevor, and Sean still needed to talk about. Including the ones connected to the case.

“Charlie?” Rachel called, reading the rapid decline in her mood.

“Sorry, I had another thought about the case.”

“Stop that,” Maggie chided. “Time to switch that brain of yours off for the night.”

Charlie went through the motions again, clinking her water glass against theirs, as she snuck a glance across the bar to where Sean and Trevor were focused on their game of pool, their fingers loosely entwined beneath the table’s rail. She hoped like hell the truth wouldn’t break all their hearts.

* * *

Same as she’d done Sunday morning, Charlie parked her car between Sean’s bike and Trevor’s truck. Only this time she was in front of the Sand Dollar, not the station, and she was staring at room twelve with both eager anticipation and dread. The future was within their grasp, but they had to tackle the past first. Not a small feat, and rehashing painful past events would not be easy.

The room door opened, and Trevor stood over the threshold, backlit by the lamplight. Hair down, barefoot, in jeans and a tee, he looked like home, like comfort. Those life-altering events of the past would be easier to recount with her best friend by her side. Her best friend who was on the verge of becoming something more again. Eagerness twisted with dread. She ached to love him again romantically, but she was terrified of losing anyone else she loved.

He tilted his head, beckoning her inside. When she didn’t move to get out of the car, he pushed off the door and crossed the walkway to where she was parked. He propped an elbow on the corner of her windshield. “You want me to get in the car?” He eyed the passenger seat on the other side of her. “We can leave right now if you’re not ready for this or if you don’t want it.”

Her gaze flicked in the direction of his feet. “You’re barefoot.” Then back to his face, all the beautiful angles thrown into sharp relief by the moonlight overhead and the shadows cast from behind. “And you want this.”

“I do, but you will always come first, Charlotte.” His serious-as-a-heart-attack expression gave way to a smirk. “Shoes or not.”

She leaned her head back and laughed at the moon and stars above, a little of the tension leaving her. “I want this too,” she admitted. “So much it scares me.”

He pried one of her hands off the wheel—not all the tension was gone—and linked their fingers together, setting them on the open window. “Talk to me.”

“We have to tell him about Mom. I think it’s relevant to the case.” She skated her thumb along the side of his as she recalled Sean’s words from the cemetery the other night, recalled where she’d found him. “I think he might already know.” No surprised jerk, no wide eyes, no inhaled breath. “You’re not surprised,” she said.

“I think it might have to do with why he stayed away,” Trevor said, surprising her. He stroked a thumb across her palm, calming the flare of nerves. “Either way, we have to talk about it, case or not. No more secrets.”

“What if it pushes him away again?” she said, putting words to her fear.

“I don’t think it will, but if it does, we move on.”

“How with all of us in DC?”

Trevor chuckled and slid along the outside of the door, closer to where she was leaned back against the headrest. “It’s DC, Charlie. Not Hanover. It’s a big fucking town. What other excuse you got?”

She closed her hand around his and drew him down, his forearms resting on the window ledge, his face only a few scant inches from her own. The kiss in the locker room today wasn’t enough, neither were the kisses earlier that month or all the kisses of ten years ago. “I want this, Trevor. I don’t want to lose what this might be.”

He leaned forward and their mouths met, glided together as if it were the most natural thing in the world. More of that comfort, more of that sense of home. Her lips parted, and Trevor’s tongue dipped inside, taking his time and kissing her so thoroughly, so perfectly, she had to close her eyes and catch her breath when they finally parted.

His fingers twisted in her hair, and his lips rained soft kisses across her face. “I want this too, Charlie, and I will fight for us this time.”

With that knowledge, Charlie’s eagerness overcame the fear, and she climbed out of the car. Hand still clasped in Trevor’s, she tugged him toward room twelve. Toward the other person who would make that sense of home complete. “Let’s go fight for him too.”

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