Page 60 of Common Grounds

“I’m not drunk either, baby,” Derek says. Trevor stiffens. I try not to gag.

“You only ever called me ‘baby’ when you’d had too much to drink,” I mutter. Derek doesn’t seem to have heard me, but Trevor’s gaze flashes to mine. I try to send a telepathic apology, but he furrows his brow. His foot finds mine under the table with a reassuring tap.

He’s not going anywhere. I’m more comforted by that than I expected to be. I give him a small, tense smile. The one he returns is soothing and genuine, and that previous warmth creeps back into my belly.

“I’m surprised you’re out tonight.” Derek obviously hasn’t gotten the hint that no one wants him here. “I could never get you to do anything on a weeknight when we were together.”

I scoff. “I was a different person then.” I’m saying this for Trevor’s benefit. I desperately hope he understands.

Derek leans in even closer to me, backing me into the corner of the booth. I hate how my shoulders are hunched as if I’m cowering, but I have no choice if I want to keep him from touching me.

“You were cold as fuck,” he sneers. I can smell the liquor on his breath.

“Hey, man,” Trevor’s voice is placating. “What are you after?”

Derek snorts and turns away from me to face Trevor. He hooks his thumb in my direction and chuckles, suddenly chummy. “She was so cold, I’m surprised her pussy wasn’t ice.” He laughs heartily at his own joke.

Trevor’s eyes darken as he stares Derek down. “Felt plenty warm to me,” he says.

I gasp. Trevor flinches ever so slightly as if he didn’t mean to say that aloud, but he quickly directs his attention to me. He flashes me his brilliant smile. I should be completely insulted by the way he defended me, but between the physical contact and this new confidence I’m seeing in him, my panties are soaked.

“What do you say, sreco?” he asks gently. “Should we get out of here?”

“Yes,” I breathe. I clear my throat and try again. “Yes,” I repeat with more solidity. I turn to Derek. “Move.”

Derek is stunned silent, his eyes bouncing back and forth between us. He slides out of the booth, and I’m finally free. I waste no time standing. Trevor is right behind me, his hand protectively on my lower back. I lean into it as we start walking toward the door. Trevor signals to where Mike and Vi are chatting at the bar. Vi sees us and smirks, then looks behind us and spots Derek. She’s out of her bar stool and on her way to me in half a second. Mike is on her tail, though I imagine he’s pretty clueless.

Trevor doesn’t rush me, but I can tell from the firm pressure he’s placing on my back that he wants out. We are out the door quickly with our friends on our heels.

“What was that asshole doing at your bar?” Violet asks in a huff.

I pinch the bridge of my nose, trying to regain some control of my breathing. “I don’t know, but he was drunk and embarrassing.”

“Ew,” Violet grimaces.

“What are we talking about?” Mike chimes in.

“I’ll explain later,” Trevor assures him. His hand hasn’t moved from my lower back, and I like it. A lot. He steps into my line of vision, blocking out everyone else. He doesn’t break contact when he drags his hand to my upper arm and gives it a gentle squeeze. He leans forward, searching my eyes. “Are you okay?”

I huff. “Yeah. Nothing I haven’t heard before.”

“That’s a damn crime.”

I shrug. All I can do right now is bask in the warmth of his intense focus.

“Do you want to go home?” he asks. “I can take you home if you want.”

Home? So I can sit and replay the whole encounter on repeat in my head while tossing and turning alone in my bed? No. I do not want that. I shake my head.

He looks around as if taking stock of our surroundings. “Let’s—”

The door opens behind us, and Derek stumbles out. He pauses when he sees us standing there, and an ugly sneer stretches slowly across his face.

“Friend, huh?” he asks. He walks over and claps Trevor on the shoulder as if they’ve been best friends for years. Trevor’s control snaps as he violently shrugs him off.

“Let me save you some time,” Derek continues, unfazed by Trevor’s seething. “She’s a pretty one, but if you’re looking for someone to warm your bed, I’d look elsewhere.”

“Back the fuck off, man,” Trevor grits out.

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