Confess

“What am I supposed to wash my hands with now?” he asks.

I nod my head toward the cabinet. “There’s liquid soap in there,” I tell him. I look down at the soaps in my hands. “These aren’t for guests.”

He closes the door in my face, and I walk the soaps to my room, feeling a little ridiculous.

I have serious issues.

I set the soap down on my nightstand and pick up my phone. I have several missed text messages, and only one of them is from my mother. I scroll through them and they’re all from Owen. I start at the bottom and work my way up.

Call me.

Are you okay?

It’s important.

Meat dress.

Please call me.

If you don’t respond to my text in five minutes, I’m coming over.

I immediately text him back.

Don’t come over, Trey is here. I’m fine.

I hit send and then type him another message.

Are you okay?

He pings me back immediately.

Someone broke into my studio tonight. They destroyed everything.

My hand flies up to my mouth, and I gasp.

He took your confession, Auburn.

My heart is in my throat, and I quickly glance up to make sure Trey isn’t standing at my door. I don’t want him to see my reaction right now, or he’ll want to know who I’m texting. I quickly send Owen another message.

Did you call the police?

His response comes through just as I hear the door to the bathroom open.

And tell them what, Auburn? To come clean up their mess?

I read the text twice.

Their mess?

I immediately hit delete on all the messages. I set the phone down and try to appear casual, but Owen’s last message is playing over and over in my head. He thinks Trey did this?

I want to say that Owen is wrong. I want to say that Trey wouldn’t be capable of doing something like what was done to Owen, but I don’t know what or who to believe anymore.

Trey appears in the doorway and I study his eyes, trying to get a clue from them, but he gives me nothing but a wall.

I smile at him. “You’re back early.”

He doesn’t smile back. My heart is trying to climb through the walls of my chest, and not in a good way.

He walks into my room and sits down on my bed. He kicks his shoes off and knocks them onto the floor. “What ever happened to that cat?” he asks. “What’d you say his name was? Sparkles?”

I swallow. Why is he asking about Owen’s cat?

“Ran away,” I say calmly. “Emory was devastated for a week.”

He nods, working his jaw back and forth. He reaches a hand up and grabs my arm. I look down at it just as he pulls me to him. I fall against his chest, stiff as a board. He wraps his arm around me and kisses the top of my head. “I missed you, so I came back early.”

He’s being nice. Too nice. My guard stays up.

“Guess what?” he says.

“What?”

His hand moves to my hair and he runs his fingers through it. “I found a house today.”

I pull away from his chest and look up at him, just as he tucks a lock of hair behind my ear. “I didn’t realize you were looking for another house.”

He smiles. “I thought I might get something a little bigger. Now that mom has moved back, I figured I could let her have that house, since it was hers to begin with. It’s probably better if we had more privacy, anyway. The house I’m looking at has a fenced-in backyard. It’s on Bishop, near the park. It’s a really good neighborhood.”

I don’t say anything, because it sounds like he means he found us a house today. The thought of that terrifies me.

“Mom went with me to look at it. She really liked it. She said AJ would love it there.”

I can’t imagine Lydia saying AJ would love anything that isn’t hers. “She really said that?”

Trey nods, and I find myself imagining what that would be like. Actually being able to live in the same house with AJ, in a good neighborhood with a backyard. And once again the thought makes its way into my head that it could be worth it. I’ll never love Trey like I loved Adam, and I’ll never feel the connection with him that I have with Owen, but Adam and Owen can’t give me the one thing in my life that I need. Only Trey can do that.

“What are you saying, Trey?”

He smiles down at me, and I realize in this moment that maybe Owen was wrong. If Trey were responsible for destroying Owen’s studio, he wouldn’t be here saying the things he’s saying right now. He would be livid, because he would know that confession was from me.

“I’m saying this isn’t a game to me, Auburn. I love AJ and I need to know that you’re in this with me. That we’re in this together.”

He shifts until he’s on top of me, and then he leans forward and kisses me. We’ve been dating for over two months now and I’ve never let him do anything but kiss me. I’m still not ready to go further than this, but I know he is. And I know his patience has been wearing thin.

He groans and his tongue dives deeper into my mouth. I squeeze my eyes shut and hate that I’m forcing myself to pretend I’m okay with this. But internally, I’m just stalling, giving myself a moment to think about what move I need to make next, because Owen’s texts are still in the back of my mind. Not to mention the fact that Owen may very well be on his way here.

Trey’s hands become needier as they grope and pull at me. His mouth moves roughly from mine, and he begins to kiss me all over as one of his hands works the buttons on my shirt.

I want to tell him to stop, but it’s all happening so fast, I can’t find a point at which to push him away. His hand is unbuttoning my jeans, and he’s working his fingers inside my underwear when I can’t take a second more of this. I dig my heels into my mattress and push him away as I attempt to scoot up on the bed.

He pulls away for a few seconds and looks at me, but words fail to come out of my mouth. When I say nothing, his mouth is immediately on mine again with even more force. He didn’t get a verbal no, so I guess that means yes to him.

I press against his chest. “Trey, stop.”

He immediately stops kissing me and presses his face into the pillow. He groans, frustrated, and I don’t know what to say next. I just made him angry.

His hand is still in my jeans, and even though I’m not kissing him, he continues to slide his hand further until I have to physically push his hand away. He presses his palm into the bed beside me and lifts up until his face is just inches from mine. His eyes are full of anger, but it’s not the anger that scares me.