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I handed the camera back, swallowing down the sudden lump that had taken up residence in my throat.

“Are you ready to go?” Trent asked. “Or do you want to stay a little while longer?”

We’d already been gone from the penthouse for a while, I was chilled, and while the tree was pretty I didn’t see the sense in staring at it any longer.

“I’m ready to head back,” I answered, wiggling my chilled fingers. The black mittens did little to warm them, so I shoved them in the depths of my coat’s pockets.

Trent hailed cab and we headed back to the penthouse. He dropped us off at the front of the building and we entered that way. I hadn’t seen the lobby area yet, and I was stunned. Everything was so shiny and expensive looking. I didn’t want to know how much their penthouse must cost.

“You’ve got a little drool there,” Trent joked, wiping my lip for affect.

“This place is so amazing,” I gasped, turning around and around to take in everything.

“I like it here,” Trent shrugged. “The city vibe has always suited me, but I’d have a hard time leaving home. It’s nice to have this place to get away to, though.”

“How many other places do you have like this?” I questioned as we waited for an elevator.

“A few,” he answered vaguely.

“Something tells me it’s more than a few,” I laughed, stepping into the elevator.

He pulled out the key again, inserting it in the slot and twisting. “So maybe it is more than a few,” he shrugged casually. “I can’t tell you what they are, because I have to have something to keep you interested.”

“You know I don’t care about your money, Trent,” I said seriously, “or how many cars and houses you own. None of that matters to me.”

“I know,” he cupped my cheek, lowering his mouth to mine. “It’s one of the reasons why I—”

The elevator doors opened into the penthouse and I grabbed his hand, pulling him after me. “About that shower?” I smiled seductively, and what he had been about to say was forgotten.

???

There was a library in the penthouse. Every wall was covered with shelves filled with books of every genre. On one wall there was a window with a built-in bench seat covered in a fluffy white cushion and pillows. I had grabbed a blanket from the family room and I draped it over my legs as I looked out the window, brushing the wet strands of my hair.

Trent was making us dinner. I’d offered to help, but

he’d declined, telling me to relax.

Since I hadn’t gotten much of a tour yesterday, I had taken it upon myself to look around the penthouse. When I’d come across this room, I’d been delighted. I’d always found comfort in a library. It made me sad to know I wasn’t going to be working at the library anymore. I probably wouldn’t be welcome there to study either. It looked like I’d be stuck studying at the University’s library. I’d have to come up with something creative to tell Tatum as to why I was fired. She was my friend, but I wouldn’t be able to bring myself to tell her the truth.

Luckily, I’d gotten a few days of work in at Trace’s car shop before Trent and I left. It certainly wasn’t the library, but it was nice. He was easy to work for and he paid well, so I had nothing to complain about. The guys that worked for him in the shop could get a little rowdy, but he was quick to shut them down and order them back to work. For being so young, Trace was handling being a business owner very well.

I tapped my fingers on top of my knees and laid the hairbrush aside, letting the long damp strands hang down my back.

I was overcome by a sudden sadness, knowing that in a matter of days we’d have to return home and this bubble surrounding me would burst. Being here alone with Trent made it all too easy for me to hope for a future with him—a future that I knew could never be. I vowed that when we got back home I’d end things. I’d walk away before it got messy. When he dropped me off, I’d lie and tell him that this week with him had shown me that my interest wasn’t there. I’d lie, because it was easier. They always say the truth can set you free. In my case, the truth was my prison.

One day, when I was older and wiser, I would find him and explain to him why we would’ve never worked out.

It wasn’t that day yet though, and for now, I’d enjoy myself.

A patter on the open library door had me looking up. Trent stood in the doorway, his dark hair had dried from our shower and he was shirtless, just those same low hanging sweatpants on his hips.

“Why am I not surprised to find you here?” He grinned crookedly, crossing his arms over his chest as he leaned against the door.

“I like this room,” I forced a smile, wrapping my arms around my knees. “It’s…peaceful. I find it so easy to seek comfort in books,” I murmured, looking around at the packed shelves, “the books…they can’t hurt me, not the way people can.”

Trent frowned at my words. “Rowan,” he whispered my name as he took a step into the room, “I know there’s a lot you’re not telling me.” He crouched in front of me, looking into my eyes. “I understand what it’s like not to want to talk about certain things, so I’ve respected your space, but I want you to know that I’m here anytime you need to talk to someone.”

“I know.”


Tags: Micalea Smeltzer Trace + Olivia Romance