Trevor looked over her shoulder and out the window, the glorious view a complete one-eighty from the small house he’d grown up in. The side of his house practically butted another home. When Trevor looked out his bedroom window, he could see the O’Reillys’ back porch, so he’d had to keep his shades shut tight. Maybe that explained why he’d been drawn to this view, he realized now.
Lissa remained quiet, obviously waiting for him to continue. She stood alone, wearing his big shirt, as lovely and vulnerable as he’d ever seen her. But she still wasn’t looking at him.
Well, this wasn’t any easier for him, but it had to be done before they could ever move forward. If they could ever move forward.
“Do you remember what was bothering you that day?” she asked him.
He’d never told her.
He expelled a harsh breath. “Brad was giving me shit in the locker room, telling the guys I bought you a piece of junk at Sears and it was just a matter of time until you’d be sick of my poverty and back with him.”
Though Lissa also lived on the “wrong” side of Serendipity, with her gorgeous face and luscious body, Brad had always seen her first as a prize, then as a challenge.
She turned around, eyes wide and angry. “That son of a bitch. Why didn’t you tell me?”
He rolled his stiff shoulders, managing a shrug. “Because it was the same song, different refrain. The guy was a broken record and I have to admit that after a while, it got to me.”
The man Trevor was now knew how stupid he’d been, but back then, he’d been humiliated and overwhelmed. “I guess I just needed to get away from the pressure for a little while.” He stepped up beside her and pulled her into his arms. “I never meant I needed to get away from you, but I let it happen.” She tipped her head back, leaning against his chest. “I figured out what an ass I’d been and tried to call you all weekend.”
“But I didn’t take your calls because I’d already ...” Her voice trailed off, both of them knowing the end of that sentence.
“Melissa Mayhue’s parents were away and she had a party. I was upset and Brad and his friends were there. He passed me drinks and I took them. Can’t blame him for that,” she said, too much self-hatred in her voice. “And when I went to get my things to go home, he offered to drive me.”
He stiffened, drawing on everything in him not to get angry and pull away so he could smash something and pretend it was her ex. The bastard had preyed on her vulnerability and taken advantage of her being upset that night. Then she’d gotten pregnant. Neither of them had been old enough or mature enough to understand it back then. It was still hard enough to accept now.
As much as he wished things had played out differently, he couldn’t change the past. And it drove him crazy knowing that though Trevor thought Banks had done the right thing, in reality he’d merely given the Banks family the best public face while privately making Lissa as miserable as possible.
“I’m sorry,” she said in a broken voice.
r /> “I know you are.” He turned her around, forcing her to look at him. “And so am I, sweetheart. So am I.”
She sniffed. “Really?”
He nodded. “We share the blame for what happened. Hell, I realize now I bear most of it. If I hadn’t agreed to split up, you’d never have been with him.” Trevor knew that now as well as he knew his own name.
Her eyes shone with surprise and gratitude. “Thank you for that,” she said, yet she moved out of his embrace.
In front of his eyes, she mentally and emotionally pulled herself together, internalizing the emotions she’d allowed to surface. “I’m glad we finally talked about this. I’m glad we had ... closure.”
Trevor blinked in shock at her stark words and suddenly cool tone. He’d thought he needed closure, too. No longer. Yet somehow she’d decided they’d wrapped things up between them in a nice bow.
But as far as he was concerned, things were even messier now than they’d been before. Because Trevor knew what meaningless sex was like—and what he and Lissa shared was a hell of a lot more. No way was he willing to let her just walk out of his life as if last night meant nothing.
“I don’t know where you got the idea that last night was about closure,” he said, folding his arms across his chest as he faced her down. “News flash, sweetheart. We’re not close to over.”
Lissa blew out a long breath and stared at him as if he’d gone mad. “So ... what? We’re going to be together for another twenty-four hours, torture ourselves with what could have been ... and then what? I’ll go back to Serendipity, to my daughter—to Brad’s daughter,” she said bluntly. “And you’ll stay here. Why prolong the agony?”
He couldn’t deny she had a point. When it came to obstacles, they had plenty. Nor could he say he was ready to deal with everything her real life had to offer, including her daughter, her ex, and Serendipity.
“I don’t have all the answers,” he told her honestly. “The only thing I do know is that if it’s going to hurt that much to walk away, it means there’s something meaningful there to begin with.” He held out his hands and waited, holding his breath.
“Damn it, Trevor,” she muttered, and walked into his waiting arms.
He held her close and suddenly her stomach growled. He heard as well as felt the vibration and laughed.
“I’m hungry,” she said.
“Let’s go out and get breakfast.”