“Not really.” I’m too flustered by his nearness to lie.
“Are you and Garrett dating?” he asks.
When I shake my head, he says, “You know he’s into you, don’t you?”
I squint at him. “What do you mean? What makes you say that?”
“The way he looks at you. The way he acts. The fact that he accompanied you to a male revue show when he clearly has no interest in the show itself.”
“We’re friends,” I say.
“Huh uh,” he says, shaking his head. “He doesn’t look at you the way a person looks at a friend.”
I set my glass down and let this all sink in. Of course, Trevor has only witnessed us together for a short time, but last night, when we first met, he was very intuitive. And I’ve had my own questions about why Garrett would go to the club with me, but I really did just think he was being a good friend.
When I don’t say anything, Trevor says, “You like him, too, don’t you?”
“And what makes you say that?”
“You know I don’t need to answer that,” Trevor says. “You already know how you feel.”
I keep myself busy and avoid his eyes by tidying up things on the counter that were already in their places.
“Want me to leave you two alone?” he asks. When I shake my head, he grins, looking satisfied with himself. “That’s because you’re attracted to me, too.”
8
Garrett
Before I left the room, Autumn had been sitting in a chair, but now she’s on the couch next to Trevor. Not close, but close enough.
“I brought another beer out for you anyway,” she says, gesturing to the second bottle that’s now next to my first.
“Thanks.”
There’s also music on now, too, and I wonder if I should do the noble thing and leave the two of them alone, but it occurs to me that she wouldn’t have brought another beer for me if she wanted me to go.
“I was just asking Autumn if the two of you ever dated,” Trevor says, reminding me of another one of his qualities that I had forgotten about: He’s blunt.
“It’s against our company’s rules,” I say, avoiding Autumn’s eyes.
“But you like each other, don’t you? It’s obvious,” Trevor says.
When Autumn doesn’t immediately object to his statement, I risk a glance in her direction. She’s looking back at me with wide eyes. She’s startled, but not irritated or disgusted.
And I wouldn’t expect her to be disgusted. We’re friends, so I assume I don’t completely repulse her, but I’ve never gotten the idea that she could be interested in me like I am in her.
Neither she nor I say anything, and good old Trevor just keeps going. “You should at least kiss. See if there’s anything there.”
More silence follows, and then I nearly fall out of my chair when Autumn says, “I wouldn’t be opposed to that.”
She wouldn’t be opposed to it. Sure, it’s not exactly an expression of burning passion, but in this context, it is consent, agreement, an invitation to “see if there’s anything there” as Trevor said.
I meet her eyes again, and the two of us stare at each other for a good ten seconds. I try to read what she’s thinking, but her thoughts may as well be in Greek, because I have no fucking clue how she’s feeling except that she “wouldn’t be opposed.” It may be the best chance I’ll ever get, so I decide to go for it.
Without another word, but while keeping my eyes on her to make sure her expression doesn’t tell me no, I get up and move to sit beside her. When she doesn’t pull back, I risk a hand on her shoulder, smoothing back her silky golden hair. She lets out a small breath as I lean in closer, and the light still seems to be green, so I brush my lips gently to hers.
I pause, hopeful, but wondering how far to push things, when her lips brush against mine.