Caspian says, “I’m testing you.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
Bridget
Trevor sits beside me on the chaise, our hands intertwined. I don’t know what to make of what he’s just told me. I like Trevor more each day, and think I trust him. He’s everything Daniel isn’t. He’s responsible and calm and sensible and good for me. He’d dote on me if we were together; he’d send me cards on all the right days; he’d make me breakfast and wash my hair in the tub. He’d always be there when needed. Trevor is right down the middle, never too hot or cold. The kind of guy you can count on. A smart, reasonable man.
But this new thing? This fresh confession? It makes me rethink everything. Either I still trust Trevor’s judgment and accept that I might be wrong, or I reject him and hold fast to my beliefs. My sense of logic argues for the latter, but it’s so hard to doubt Trevor’s sincerity while he’s looking at me with those soft baby blues, my hand in his.
“I told you what happened, Trevor. I told you what they did to me.”
“It’s not how it is.”
He says it so simply. It’s such a stubborn refusal, I’m not sure if I should laugh or swoon. He’s ridiculously sweet. Almost naive.
“I’m hurt. You can’t believe how much I’m hurt.”
Trevor squeezes my hand. “Like anyone could ever hurt you.”
The last few minutes have been so quiet and spellbinding, it’s as if I’ve forgotten where we are and what’s happening outside. Lights descended with the canvas, and given the absence of sound from beyond — other than a light music track I don’t recognize and some subtle whispers — it’s been still. I’ve been lulled into feeling like we’re alone, in a tent in the middle of wilderness.
The drape panels part, and Daniel is standing not ten feet away. His eyes are wild, like I’ve never seen them. They don’t seem to know where to settle until they finally find my face. He stays there a moment and then looks at Trevor. I can see his mind trying to recalibrate, as if he came in expecting to see something other than what’s in front of his eyes. I see him relax from some kind of high alert, the feeling of threat draining from bloodshed to an ambient throb.
I look down, following his eyes, and see the intertwined fingers in my lap. The obedient part of me wants to take my hand from Trevor’s. But the disobedience has been in charge for a while, so I defiantly leave it.
“Get out,” Daniel says to Trevor.
“Daniel, what’s — ?”
“I love you like a brother, Trevor. But if you don’t leave right now, I’m going to hurt you. It’s not something I have any control over. I’m not in my right mind.”
I don’t think this is entirely hyperbolic. He’s breathing heavy. Tendons in his neck are standing taut. In between words to Trevor, he keeps staring at me like meat.
“What’s gotten into you?” Trevor asks.
Daniel’s eyes flick to me and then back.
“She has.”
Trevor looks like he might reply but then stands and gives me a look. With one final glance at Daniel and a knowing look at me, he exits the tent.
With my buffer departed, I’m immediately on the defensive. Switches are flipping inside me like programming, yet still I’m furious. It doesn’t matter if Daniel’s mere glance hardens my nipples. It doesn’t matter if the low timbre of his voice rattles my bones. It doesn’t matter if Caspian’s manipulations have been working since the start of this, building sensations inside me before, during, and now after my isolation with Trevor. I’m smarter than base sensation, and this is the man who betrayed me with one of my best friends.
“Now you get out,” I say, with words but not my body.
“I’m not with Jessica. I never was.”
“Bullshit.”
“Look at me, Bridget. Look at what you’ve done to me. There isn’t room for Jessica in my head. There isn’t room in me for anyone but you.”
A retort rises to my
CHAPTER EIGHT
Bridget
Trevor sits beside me on the chaise, our hands intertwined. I don’t know what to make of what he’s just told me. I like Trevor more each day, and think I trust him. He’s everything Daniel isn’t. He’s responsible and calm and sensible and good for me. He’d dote on me if we were together; he’d send me cards on all the right days; he’d make me breakfast and wash my hair in the tub. He’d always be there when needed. Trevor is right down the middle, never too hot or cold. The kind of guy you can count on. A smart, reasonable man.
But this new thing? This fresh confession? It makes me rethink everything. Either I still trust Trevor’s judgment and accept that I might be wrong, or I reject him and hold fast to my beliefs. My sense of logic argues for the latter, but it’s so hard to doubt Trevor’s sincerity while he’s looking at me with those soft baby blues, my hand in his.
“I told you what happened, Trevor. I told you what they did to me.”
“It’s not how it is.”
He says it so simply. It’s such a stubborn refusal, I’m not sure if I should laugh or swoon. He’s ridiculously sweet. Almost naive.
“I’m hurt. You can’t believe how much I’m hurt.”
Trevor squeezes my hand. “Like anyone could ever hurt you.”
The last few minutes have been so quiet and spellbinding, it’s as if I’ve forgotten where we are and what’s happening outside. Lights descended with the canvas, and given the absence of sound from beyond — other than a light music track I don’t recognize and some subtle whispers — it’s been still. I’ve been lulled into feeling like we’re alone, in a tent in the middle of wilderness.
The drape panels part, and Daniel is standing not ten feet away. His eyes are wild, like I’ve never seen them. They don’t seem to know where to settle until they finally find my face. He stays there a moment and then looks at Trevor. I can see his mind trying to recalibrate, as if he came in expecting to see something other than what’s in front of his eyes. I see him relax from some kind of high alert, the feeling of threat draining from bloodshed to an ambient throb.
I look down, following his eyes, and see the intertwined fingers in my lap. The obedient part of me wants to take my hand from Trevor’s. But the disobedience has been in charge for a while, so I defiantly leave it.
“Get out,” Daniel says to Trevor.
“Daniel, what’s — ?”
“I love you like a brother, Trevor. But if you don’t leave right now, I’m going to hurt you. It’s not something I have any control over. I’m not in my right mind.”
I don’t think this is entirely hyperbolic. He’s breathing heavy. Tendons in his neck are standing taut. In between words to Trevor, he keeps staring at me like meat.
“What’s gotten into you?” Trevor asks.
Daniel’s eyes flick to me and then back.
“She has.”
Trevor looks like he might reply but then stands and gives me a look. With one final glance at Daniel and a knowing look at me, he exits the tent.
With my buffer departed, I’m immediately on the defensive. Switches are flipping inside me like programming, yet still I’m furious. It doesn’t matter if Daniel’s mere glance hardens my nipples. It doesn’t matter if the low timbre of his voice rattles my bones. It doesn’t matter if Caspian’s manipulations have been working since the start of this, building sensations inside me before, during, and now after my isolation with Trevor. I’m smarter than base sensation, and this is the man who betrayed me with one of my best friends.
“Now you get out,” I say, with words but not my body.
“I’m not with Jessica. I never was.”
“Bullshit.”
“Look at me, Bridget. Look at what you’ve done to me. There isn’t room for Jessica in my head. There isn’t room in me for anyone but you.”
A retort rises to my
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