Pretending She's His: A Hard Feelings Novella (11 page)

“Can you promise me that?” he asked again, desperation mixed with joy humming in his voice.

She nodded. “I promise. I’ll take good care of him.”

He pressed his thin lips to her forehead, adding another line to the list of things that connected Trevor to his dad.

“Good,” he said. “You know, I always wanted a daughter.”

And the floodgates opened. Dammit. She fell in love with that old man in that moment. Eva understood now how Meagan had formed such a strong bond with him—he didn’t give you any other choice. He forced you to care and held you there until it was the only thing you wanted to do. Just like Trev.

“Fuck, Dad. What the hell are you saying to her? I’ve never seen this woman cry before,” Trev said from behind her. She felt his strong arms pull her from his father’s embrace and she instantly turned and fell into his waiting arms, brushing her cheeks along his T-shirt to wipe away the tears that had fallen.

“It’s okay, baby,” she said tilting her face up to look at him.

His brows narrowed in question, but she just rose onto her tiptoes and kissed him. It was a quick, sweet kiss—over within a few heartbeats, but it was enough to let Trevor know the game plan. They were pretending she was his—again.

***

Trevor opened the truck door and Eva hopped in. “Thanks for that,” he said before shutting the door behind her.

Jogging around to the driver’s side, he slid in and started the engine.

“Hey, I owed you one,” she replied.

He looked at her, really looked at her. She was beautiful, and not just because she was a fucking knockout—but because she cared for him enough to pretend. “Well, you made my dad one happy man today.”

They had spent the entire day with his parents in the hospital. They ordered his dad’s favorite pizza and sat around and told stories about when Trevor was a kid, and Eva even threw in a couple of stories from back when they’d first met.

She’d let him rub her leg, kiss her neck, and hold her against him. She’d ad-libbed her own affection—running her hands along the short hair at the nape of his neck, lacing her arm through his, and crawling onto his lap on the sofa. They’d put on a pretty good act together. If Trevor didn’t know any better he would have believed it himself.

“I love your dad. I wish I had met him a long time ago. He is funny as hell. And your mom—I may like her better than my own mother.”

He pulled out onto the road and headed toward Eva’s motel. “Yeah, they’re pretty great,” he said fondly. “I’m glad you got to meet my dad while he was my dad.” He cleared his throat. “While he was having a good day.”

She looked at him, her expression slack, and smiled a sad smile. “Me too.”

They drove the rest of the way in silence. It was easy. But being around Eva was always easy. She didn’t expect anything or need anything. She knew when to step up and when to back off. She was a pretty damn good friend to have around, especially now.

“Are you sure you don’t want to stay at my parent’s house with me?” he asked, hopeful. He would kill to have her next to him tonight. He wanted to hold her—that’s it. He wanted to feel her small body melt into his as he molded himself around her. But how the fuck was he supposed to tell her that without sounding like a complete fucking pussy? If she was Meagan, he would break down and beg her to stay with him while he rummaged through the hell that was hoarding the space in his mind. But with Eva—he didn’t want her to see him vulnerable like that. Things were different with Eva. He wanted to protect her from his heartache.

“I don’t know, Trev.” She hesitated. Their roles had returned to their pre-acting state. He could keep it casual. He wouldn’t allow things to become awkward between them—even though it was damn near unbearable not to touch her.

“No big deal, Red. Just wanted to offer,” he lied as he pulled up to the motel. “Think you can suffer through another day of pretending to be with me? I’d really love for you to come back to the hospital with me tomorrow,” he admitted, letting a tiny fragment of his vulnerability slip through the cracks, but he didn’t give a shit at that moment. He just wanted to make sure she would be with him tomorrow. He needed her.

“If you come bringing coffee and donuts, I will do pretty much anything you ask.”

He grinned and lifted his brows and she shook her head at him. “Within reason, Trev.”

“Hey, can’t blame a man for thinking it.”

“Yeah, yeah,” she said, rolling her eyes at him as she opened the door. His hand reached out and grabbed onto hers before he had a moment to decide against it. She turned away from the door and her eyes fell to their joined hands then flashed across his face. She smiled, and the guilt and pain that was hidden in that smile tore at his heart, taking with it a layer that was already hanging on by a thread.

“Trev?” she asked, releasing his hand before she slid her foot back inside the cab of the truck and shut the door. “Scratch the donuts. I’m in the mood for a home-cooked breakfast in the morning.”

He smiled and shifted the gear into drive, pulling out of the motel parking lot. Relief flooded him, and the fact that he felt comfort in the simple knowledge of being in the close proximity of this woman should have had him questioning every thought, every desire that was leaving the crevices of his mind, and flashing to the forefront. But he wouldn’t. Not tonight. Tonight he just needed her near him.

“Oh, and Trev?”

Shifting his head to look at her, he cocked a brow. “Yeah?”

“You’re spooning me.”

Without answering, he smiled and looked back at the stretch of road before them.

Tonight, he would hold her.

Chapter Nine

Leaving the hospital the next day was a little hard for Eva, so she couldn’t imagine how Trevor felt. She had lied to probably the sweetest man she had ever known. But that wasn’t even what bothered her. She would lie one hundred times over again if it made him smile. What made her sad was that she knew she would probably never see him again.

“I need something to drink. Something strong and hard, and preferably on the rocks with salt and an extra shot of Patrón,” she said, leaning her head back against the headrest as Trevor pulled out onto the road.

He laughed, turning the radio station. “Yes, ma’am,” he replied, his voice attempting to regain the ease and contentment it usually carried. But it was forced.

She smiled at him then faced the window, staring out at the blurred landscape, wishing she could somehow absorb his heartache. She wanted to wrap him in her arms and soak up every last ounce of sorrow he carried and wring it out of him.

Trevor’s dad tunneled himself into her heart in two days’ time, chipping away a part for himself that would never be replaced, making the sadness sting. But it hurt even more because it stung Trevor. It was breaking him little by little. And for the first time, someone else’s pain was her own. Because for the first time, her heart belonged to someone else. It belonged to Trevor.

“You’ve got that look, Red.” Trevor’s voice broke through her thoughts and she rolled away from the window to face him.

“How do you know what look I had? You couldn’t even see me.”

Dropping his hand from the wheel, he reached over and grabbed her knee, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Because I know you. You okay?” he asked, somehow knowing what had been raking through her mind. At least some of it.

She nodded. “Are you?”

He glanced back at the road quickly then his eyes fell back to hers. Sad, sincere eyes held her gaze and it felt as if he was burrowing into her soul. It formed a deep throb—a battered ache in her chest—seeing the pain in his eyes.

“I am. Because you’re here with me.”

***

Eva was relieved when he pulled into a small hole-in-the-wall bar. She wasn’t in the mood for large crowds and she hoped this was pretty low-key. But she was way off.

When they walked into the bar, it went back for as far as she could see. It was jam-packed with people, and there wasn’t an open seat in the house that she could find.

“Trevor, let’s go somewhere else,” she suggested.

“What? Why? This place is great. I met the owner last year, he’s a good guy. He’ll set us up at a table, and they’ve got live music on Tuesday nights.”

She got a little inkling that he needed the noise, the bodies, the intensity of the environment to distract his mind. And she could appreciate that. So she nodded and followed him to the bar that ran the entire length of the right side of the room.

She had planned on ordering a margarita, but 99.9 percent of her experience drinking margaritas at a bar like this completely sucked. She didn’t know what it was, but they never fucking made them right. “I’ll take Guinness draft—tall,” she said, raising her voice so he could hear her over the loud music.

“You and Meg and your Guinness. Love you women,” he said, already cheering up a bit.

“I’m gonna go pee, I’ll be right back,” she said walking backward in the opposite direction.

“All right, I’ll wait here for you.”

She hurried to the restroom and cursed under her breath when she saw the line to the ladies’ room extending out the damn door.
Fuck it.

She pushed the men’s room door open with her shoulder and walked it.

“Yeah, I know, I’ve got a vagina. Keep your dick in your hands, I just need to pee and I’ll be out of your territory,” she said to the two men pissing in the urinal when they looked at her like she was an idiot.

Kicking the stall open with her foot, she cringed thinking about the number of nasty, hairy asses that had sat on that toilet seat. Eva didn’t get squeamish, and she could get past pretty much anything. But let’s face it, sometimes men were just fucking disgusting.

Reaching in her purse, she grabbed her hand sanitizer and squirted almost the complete contents of the bottle onto the seat before wiping it off with toilet paper. She squatted over the seat—not taking any chances.

“Thanks, boys,” she said into the mirror, washing her hands as the new set of guys at the urinal looked confused as hell seeing a woman come out of the stall.

Walking out of the bathroom, Eva shoved her way back through the crowd of people that ranged from barely twenty-one to old enough to be her grandparents. Country bars were good for a mixed crowd.

Eva could see the bar up ahead, but she got pulled back by some ass-hat with grabby hands. “Get the hell off,” she hissed, lowering her tank top that had ridden up a little on her stomach from the swarm of bodies pressing against her.

“Aw, dance with me.”

“Aw,” she mocked. “Go to hell.” Then she pressed her palms to his chest and pushed him back, not hard enough to knock him on his ass, but hard enough to send out a warning. God, she really needed that drink now.

“Hey,” she said, coming up behind Trevor.

“Hey, beautiful. Here’s your beer”—he slid a tall glass in front of her then placed a shot of clear liquid down next to it—“and a shot.” Lifting his own shot glass, he said, “Here’s to one hell of a weekend. And the award for best actress goes to Eva Riley.”

She lifted the chilled shot glass to her mouth and rolled the edge along her bottom lip before tilting her head back and tipping the smooth liquid down her throat. Trevor didn’t mean anything by his words, as a matter of fact, he was just trying to lighten the mood. It was harmless. So why did she feel like curling into the fetal position on the floor and listening to Alanis Morissette on repeat?

“Does that make you best supporting actor?” she asked, playing along. Hell, she had been playing along this whole time—why not a little more?

“Nah,” he said, swinging his arm around her and leading her to an open table close to the dance floor. “I’m not much of an actor.”

He could’ve fooled her.

Sitting down in the seat he pulled out for her, Eva set her beer and her purse down on the table.

“So what time does your flight leave tomorrow?” he asked, sitting down across from her. He was back to the Trevor she had known for years. Her friend. Just like it used to be before this weekend had to come along and mess with her head—and her heart. Problem was, she didn’t want it to be like it was. She liked the side of Trevor that he only showed her when he was pretending. She liked the side of herself that she was able to see when he was pretending she was his. She knew she had to tell him, she just didn’t know how.

And as much as she didn’t want things to go back to the way they were between them, she was afraid that if she told him, things would never be the same.

“Red?” he asked when she didn’t reply.

She blinked, pushing her sappy-sad-story thoughts to the back of her mind. “Sorry, what?”

“What time does your flight leave tomorrow?”

“One.”

His eyes shifted around the room like he was hunting prey—searching for someone. “Good, I’ll take you out for breakfast before you head home.”

A tall blonde with boobs that were most definitely paid for in full walked by. Her low-rise jeans were tight and distressed, and her tank top better constituted a bra. Trevor reached out and wound his arm around her waist, pulling her back to the table and practically onto his lap.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he flirted, attempting to lay his charm on nice and thick. The blonde flushed and swooned—Eva threw up a little in her mouth. This was nothing she hadn’t seen before. This was Trevor being Trevor. But now she wanted to kick him in the balls, or slap blondie’s smile from her face. She would happily do both.

“Get us another round of Patrón, will ya? And a Guinness draft.” He paused to shift his glance to Eva, who hoped like hell her scowl was set in place. “You need another?” he asked.

Something inside her snapped as she watched the waitress run her perfectly manicured nails through the top of his hair. What was he doing? If he was attempting to make her jealous, he failed. If he was attempting to piss her off, he hit the nail on the head.

Scooting her chair back, she stood up. “I’m good, thanks,” she replied, then stormed off.

What had she been thinking?
Dammit!
He was Trevor. Her ladies’-man, slutty friend. She didn’t know why she thought anything of him other than that. She knew better than to let herself slip. She knew Trevor’s type inside and out—she knew herself. And she had known that if she let herself fall for the side of Trevor she’d gotten a glimpse of, someone would get hurt. Now she knew who that someone was. But it didn’t just hurt—it ached, like a permanent piece of her heart was now missing.