#Rev (GearShark #2)(6)

“Sure.”

Before he left, I felt his eyes again. I looked up, unable to ignore the silent call.

It was hard to remember all the reasons I broke it off with him when he looked at me like this. It was hard to justify my reasons.

It was definitely hard to love someone.

But with Drew, it was impossible to stop.





Drew

Never in a million years.

That’s how often I thought life would lead me here.

Since the minute I was conceived, my life was planned out for me. Hell, it might as well have been back in the day when parents arranged their children’s lives before they were even grown based on land agreements, family obligations, and money.

Even though I never really fought the ideals my parents upheld, I never really liked them either. Even so, if asked what I actually wanted from my life, my answer wouldn’t have resembled this.

However.

Even admitting life was nothing like I ever planned or thought I wanted…

I learned something tonight.

I learned why I never really fought what my parents always pushed me toward. Up until now, there was never anything I cared enough about to fight for.

Then I met Trent.

I fell in love with my best friend.

It’s a good damn thing I was a fighter.

I’d fight for him.

I’d fight for me.

I’d fight for us.

Downstairs, I tossed the now-warm cold-pack and reached into the freezer for an icepack. It would probably stay cooler longer. I didn’t mind coming down and changing them out as often as needed, but every time I did that, I had to walk out of the room.

As angry with Trent as I was right now for breaking things off between us and with the guys who jumped him, anger wasn’t all I felt. My insides were rattled.

Worried.

Scared.

I could literally feel some of my joints vibrating beneath my skin. It left me slightly unsteady, off balance. It was sort of like chugging a giant Slurpee and chasing it with a king-size candy bar. But instead of a sugar rush, I was having an emotional rush. My body was buzzed, reacting physically to all the angst of tonight.

I wanted to be with Trent, to be able to look at him whenever I needed to reassure myself he was here and okay. I wanted the constant reassurance he wasn’t gone from my life, that we were still tethered together despite what he declared.

A guy knew he loved someone when all he could think about was being in the same room with them, even knowing they didn’t want him there.

He wants you there, my subconscious whispered. Trent might say he didn’t, but I knew different. I saw it in his eyes when I stood in the doorway of the room. I felt it deep inside.

“How’s the hand?” Ivy asked, stepping into the kitchen.

“It’s fine,” I replied, pulling out a towel to wrap around the icepack. The scrapes and cuts from putting my hand through the wall were the last thing on my mind. “Thanks for bandaging me up.”

“You’re gonna fight for him, right?”

I followed the abrupt change in conversation with ease and abandoned the task in front of me. My gaze swung around to pin my sister with a steady look. “You think I wouldn’t?”

Her elbows were resting on the island and her chin was in her hands. Perched on the top of her head was a high ponytail that was slightly crooked, and rogue strands of blond hair framed her face. “I think I want you to know I want you to.”

I felt my lips curve up into a half smile. “Well, if you want me to.”

My attempt to somehow lighten this entire night, my thoughts, this conversation was not received.

“It’s been really hard for you, huh?” She straightened from the counter and stepped forward, toward me.

I’d been silent a long time. Never spoke about what I was and wasn’t feeling. Never let on that maybe I was struggling with feelings no one else knew about.

Except, according to the fam, everyone knew.

Everyone saw the invisible pull between T and me. They felt the ripples in the air between us.

All this time, I’d felt alone; I had no one to talk to.

I wasn’t alone. Neither was Trent.

I shrugged. “It’s been hard, but it’s also been really easy.”

“Love is easy and hard at the same time,” Ivy mused.

I nodded. Love was a conundrum, a paradox. Loving Trent was incredibly easy. I did it without thought, without effort. But everything that came with those automatic feelings—that’s where the effort came in.

“You’re really okay with this?” I asked. My sister had already given T and me her blessing. But maybe I needed some reassurance.

“With you being in love? I’m more than okay with it.”

I pursed my lips and gave her a look. While I appreciated her pragmatic view, I didn’t want it right then. I wanted a real conversation.

She made a rude sound and hopped up on the island to sit. “I was surprised when I first noticed the way your relationship with him developed. But the more I thought of it, the more I watched you both, it seemed so obvious.”

I started to say something, but she held up her hand and gave me a be quiet look. “The right kind of love is supposed to bring out the best in people. It adds to your life, fills in all those gaps you didn’t even realize were there. Trent does that for you, doesn’t he?” She tilted her head to the side and watched me.