Exes and O's (The Influencer, #2)(93)

Trevor gives her a cocksure smile. “Miss Rapunzel, are you gonna let down your hair for me or what?”

Angie giggles and points in my direction. “Nah. But Belle might.”

He swallows, tentative when he spots the pi?ata and accompanying cast-iron skillet in my hands. “Erm, I’m not so sure. Belle may prefer to bash my face in with cookware.”

I raise my free hand to proclaim innocence. “I’m not in a violent mood, lucky for you.”

He laughs. “That’s a relief.”

I’m not sure where to go from here, but under Payton and Angie’s watchful eyes, I’m feeling hella uncomfortable and paranoid they’ll sense the rift between us. Maybe it’s best to avoid him until the party is over. “Sorry, I’ve gotta set up the pi?ata,” I say, gathering the sides of my dress to walk away.

Trevor’s fingers clasp my wrist before I can make my escape. “Wait.”

When I stop, he releases my wrist, running a hand over the back of his neck.

I study him, waiting.

“God, I’m really fucking bad at this.” His honey eyes meet mine, sincere and earnest.

I can’t help but laugh. “Which part?”

He lifts both palms to the ceiling as Payton shuffles Angie away to greet guests, granting us some privacy in front of the cardboard tower. “All of it. I’m trying to grand gesture you. For the second time. And I’m trying not to make an ass of myself.”

I wait for him to continue.

“I’m so sorry for ruining your night last night. That was never my intention. I had this whole perfect surprise planned out and it just . . . went to shit.”

“It’s okay, Trevor. Really. I understand.”

He clears his throat over the squeal of some of the kids who have just entered, in awe at the décor. “I never should have walked away from you. But after all the hours I listened to you talk about how amazing Daniel is . . . I thought I could never compete. Especially after seeing you two together. I know how special Valentine’s Day is to you. I guess I just thought it must mean Daniel is really special to you too. If he was exactly the kind of guy you were looking for, I didn’t want to be in the way of that.”

“For the record, you have nothing to worry about with Daniel. I love him as a friend, but it doesn’t even compare to what I feel for you. And I know it’s hard to believe after all my exes—”

“No, I was a dick for using that against you.”

“To be fair, I get it. You were kind of right. I bounced between them all so fast because the truth is, I didn’t love any of them anymore. I just convinced myself I did, mostly because I was trying to avoid my feelings for you,” I admit, moving out of the way as Angie runs past me to greet more guests.

“I know. I’m a tool for doubting that.” He gives a helpless shrug. “It’s just, I’ve seen the way you are with guys you like. Sending multi-paragraph texts. You sent me one-word answers while I was gone, and I thought you—”

“You thought I didn’t care?” I’m tempted to laugh in his face when he nods. I think about the hours I spent clutching my phone, willing him to text me. “Don’t forget, you’re the one who told me to rein my text game in. I was trying not to freak you out and send you running far away, as you would say.”

He winces. “My advice was dead wrong. I love your long-winded texts. I just never thought you’d actually take my advice.”

My corset makes digesting this new information more challenging than it should be. How do historical romance heroines keep their cool? I fidget, managing to regulate my breathing, replaying his words. I interpreted his lack of communication to mean he didn’t care. And he assumed the same.

Grandma Flo’s words echo through my head. You have a lot to learn about relationships if you think all problems can be solved with a single conversation.

He continues. “Anyway, I wanted to apologize again for my part in all of this. I know I’ve messed with your head the past few months, and I take full responsibility. And I know asking you to move slow didn’t help.”

“I’m sorry too. And for the record, I have no problem with moving slow.”

The corners of his lips tug upward, deepening into a brief smile. “I think we tossed out moving slow on Friday night, didn’t we?”

“Technically.”

His incendiary look locks me in place. “Tara, I’ve had it bad for you for months. You. Are. Everything. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I was scared because I couldn’t stop second-guessing whether you were real and whether you were going to leave too. I’ve always had issues expressing how I feel, especially after my mom passed. After everything, with my family and Angie, the thought of losing someone else I care about was too much. Shutting people out was easier. I just got so comfortable with that reality. And when you moved in . . .”

I let him continue his train of thought.

“You wanted to get to know me. You wanted to know everything about me. And for the first time, I wanted to let someone in. And when I did, it scared the shit out of me. But the time away gave me some clarity.”

“On what?”

“It made me realize I missed you so fucking much. I was so miserable without you, I got sent home early because I was basically useless out there. I needed to come home and tell you that I want all the things you want. That I’m capable of giving you everything. And I don’t want to go slow, because I can barely breathe when I think about living my life without you. I want to complain while you watch Disney movies. I want to alphabetize your books. I want to read with you at night. I want to tolerate your mess. I want . . .” He lets out a weak half laugh. “I want a family. One day. I want to do literally anything as long as it means being with you, because I am so in love with you, I don’t know what to do with myself.”