Until Trevor (Until #2)

“Crap!” I mumble. The flowers are from Bill; not that Bill isn’t a nice guy, but the thing is, he just does nothing for me. When I hired him to find my brother, I tried to make things clear that this was going to be a completely professional relationship; but he is constantly asking me out, or flirting in a way that makes it clear that he’s interested.

Bill was my first. All my life I have been reading romance novels. Those stupid books ruined me. I’ve always wanted that fire that every book I ever read talks about. There was no fire with Bill; and afterwards, I thought that the fire described in books was a whole bunch of made up mumbo-jumbo until I was with Trevor. Then I found out that not only is it real, it is consuming. Unfortunately, only he could give me that feeling, but I'm not the only one to give that feeling to him. The women in town are constantly talking about him or his brothers, and the amount of women they go through. Well, all except Asher. He was just as bad as them until he met November; she turned his ass upside-down. Now they’re one of those couples who are constantly touching or whispering to each other, completely head-over-heels in love; and now that they have their daughter, they are even more in love. I couldn’t be happier for them. But naturally, I'm jealous. Who wouldn’t be? Really, what woman wouldn’t want one of the hottest men this side of the Mississippi banging down your door, confessing his undying love, while begging to take care of you, and then giving you a perfect family?

“Well, who are they from?” my mom asks, and I look up at her hopeful face. I know that she thinks I need to find a man. She had me at twenty, and was with my dad for two years before that.

“Bill,” I say, wondering if I should give him a shot. I'm sure thousands, no millions, of women are in relationships with people who don’t cause them to catch fire with just a look.

“Oh,” she says, her face falling. “I thought they were from Trevor; he is such a nice boy.” I shake my head; my mom has no idea the kind of guy Trevor really is.

“I'm going to unbox the new shipment and stock the shelves. Let me know when you’re going for lunch and I’ll come watch the front for you,” I say, kissing her cheek.

“Okay, honey,” she says, sliding my hair behind my ear and kissing my forehead.

I am in the back room going through the new shipment, when my mom comes back to tell me she is going to lunch. I make my way to the front of the store, carrying some stuff to put on display, when the bell over the door goes off. I turn my head to see Trevor standing near the cash register. I raise an eyebrow at him, wondering what the heck he’s doing here.

“You got time to talk?” he asks, while looking around. I take a deep breath, let it out, and shrug my shoulders. “I talked to Mike this morning, and he told me what happened with your brother.” I feel my chest squeeze. I didn’t want anyone to know about what my brother did. “Why didn’t you tell me about it?”

“Seriously?” I ask, glaring at him.

“Shit, I know I fucked up. I just—” He stops talking and runs his hands over his head. When his eyes come back to me, they look confused. “You’re you; I care about you.”

“You, Trevor Mayson, are full of it.”

“What?”

“You don’t care about me, Trevor,” I say, turning my back on him, going back to putting out the new stock.

“We were good together,” he says next to me. I look over at him, my eyebrows drawing together.

“What are you talking about? We were never together.” I shake my head. “We hung out. I had considered you a friend; then we got drunk, fooled around, and you showed me that I was nothing but just another woman, just like all the others.” I blow a piece of hair out of my face, feeling myself turn red from embarrassment. “Now if you would just leave and not talk to me any more like you did before, that would be great,” I say, turning around to finish what I was doing.

“Why’s this Bill sending you flowers?” I look over and see him standing in front of the flowers, looking at the card.

“What’s with you?” I walk over and snatch the card out of his hand.

“You’re coming with me to go see July Saturday when you get off.” I look at him like he has lost his damn mind. He shrugs. “I already told Asher that you would be there.” “Well, then, I guess you have to call and tell him that you were confused,” I snap, just as the shop door opens and my mom walks in.

“Oh! Trevor, honey, so nice to see you,” she greets, and he bends low to kiss her cheek.

“You too, Mrs. Hayes. I was just coming to remind Liz about our plans for the weekend.”

“Plans?” my mom asks.

“We’re going to see July, then to dinner afterwards,” Trevor tells my mother. Her face lights up like a Christmas tree, and she looks over at me smiling.

“Oh, that’s wonderful,” she claps—yes, claps—and I want to grab Trevor’s ear and haul him out of the store.

“Thanks for the reminder. I’ll text you if something comes up and I can’t make it.” I say, walking to the door and opening it.

“If you can’t make it, then I’ll just pick you up after,” he says, running his fingers through my hair. “Just don’t forget your overnight bag,” he says, leaning closer. I know my jaw hit the floor. I look over at my mom and she’s beaming. I can see the sun shining from inside her. I look back at Trevor, ready to kick his ass for making my mom think that there is something between us that isn’t there. Then I feel his mouth on mine. I try to pull away, but his hand is in my hair at the back of my neck, holding me in place. He licks my bottom lip, then bites it softly. My hands had gone to his chest to shove him away, when I feel his other hand at the underside of my breast; my mouth opens, his tongue touches mine, and his taste fills my mouth. My brain is no longer in control. I kiss him back, one hand fisting his shirt, the other at the back of his head, his hair scraping against my palm. His mouth leaves mine; pulling me deeper into him, I feel his lips near my ear. “I forgot how much I love your mouth baby,” he groans, and I feel heat hit my face. Not only did I just do that in front of my mom, but he has the power; all he has to do is touch me and I’m his. “I’ll see you Saturday,” he says, pulling away. My brain is total mush; all I can do is nod. He says goodbye to my mom and leaves the store, with me standing right where he left me.

“I'm surprised that this place didn’t catch fire when he kissed you,” my mom says, beaming at me. I bite my lip, asking myself, not for the first time, what just happened.

“Um…”

“I mean, I'm your mom, but it looked like that boy knew how to kiss.”

“I ugh...”

“I know that he’s got a reputation with the ladies, but seeing him work, well, now I know they’re not just rumors,” she says, fanning herself.

I take a deep breath, closing my eyes. “Mom, please don’t get all excited, okay? Trust me when I tell you that nothing is going to come from this.”

“If you say so, honey,” she mumbles, going behind the counter. I walk to the back room of the shop, close the door, and scream at the top of my lungs, trying to get all the frustration I was feeling at that moment out. Once I’m done, I go back to stocking the shelves, trying to keep myself busy enough to forget about Trevor and his kiss. This doesn’t work, so I call Bambi, hoping that she can make me forget about Trevor. Unfortunately, she wants to talk about him, why he was there, and what happened when I left the club. I explain the best I can without telling her too much. Then I call November, and she also wants to talk about Trevor, and how he called Asher and told him that we would be there Saturday to spend some time with July. It was like the world is against me. Nothing helped me forget about him; even after I get home, I can still feel his mouth and hands on me.

“Do you want a beer?” Bill asks, coming to stand next to me. He called me this morning and asked if I wanted to go to a bonfire with him. Normally, I would avoid things like this because the women I went to school with act like they are still in high school. Being twenty–five, I think that it’s a little crazy to still whisper and talk crap about people behind their backs, then play best friends when they are standing in front of you. In school, I was a nerd…a big one. I had braces, my hair was short, and I dressed like a boy. When my dad passed away, my mom checked out; I know she tried, but it was hard enough for her to get out of bed most days. I think she figured that we didn’t need her, and that we were old enough to get up and go to school; and let’s not forget: cook for ourselves, do our laundry, or clean up after ourselves. Things weren’t easy, but I never wanted to be the one to rattle our fragile existence; so instead of telling my mom that I needed clothes, I would borrow my brother’s; instead of saying I needed a haircut, I would just take the scissors, and cut my hair short enough that I didn’t have to think about it.

My whole high school life, people called me Liz the Lez, Lezzy Liz, or some other stupid nickname that rhymed with Liz. In school, I had one friend; her name was Cassy, and when she moved senior year, I was on my own. Tim had gone off to Seattle to school, and my mom was working part time at a bar. When she wasn’t working, she was sleeping. I think that was one of the worst years of my life. Then on graduation day, when I walked across the stage, I looked down and saw my mom. She was looking at me, her eyes blood shot, and I could see regret written all over her face. After graduation, we went home; she ordered pizza and made me a cake. We pigged out, and she told me that she was sorry for not being there for me, but that she would make it up to me every day from then on. She stuck to her promise, and I truly couldn’t ask for a better mom. She helped me find myself, while finding out who she was without my dad.

“So do you want one?” Bill asks again, and I look over at him and shake my head. I’m tipsy already, and want to go home. It doesn’t help that I never wanted to be here to begin with. But standing out in the cool night air in a tank top, listening to some girl talk about how she’s going to try and trap one of the Mayson boys by getting knocked up, and that she doesn’t care which one it is, just as long as one of them is her baby-daddy, I know I need to go home. “Here, take my hoodie,” Bill says, taking off his red college hoodie and putting it over my head. “You look so cute,” he says, leaning in like he’s going to try to kiss me, so I lean back.

“I’ll be back,” I mumble, looking away from him and towards where my car’s parked.

“Do you want me to come with you?”

“No, its fine. I’ll be right back,” I say, leaving the warmth of the bonfire, heading in the direction of my car. I have no idea what I'm doing, but hiding seems smart at this point. “Me and my stupid, stupid brain, thinking that I could go out with Bill and forget about Trevor. Ha! That’s a joke, if I ever heard one. Oh no, what if it’s like, some weird virus, and I'm like, addicted to him? I mean, that girl was going to trap him, or any Mayson by having a baby. What if I become crazy and try to do that too?”