Page 26 of Only You and Me

“So, um, how have you been since we got home?” I ask. I take a seat at the table she’s already sitting at.

An irritated huff escapes Trina, and she finally turns her head to make eye contact with me. “How do you think? It’s not every day I find myself naked and married after a colossal drunken fiasco.”

I try not to let the animosity in her words hurt me, but it’s harsh. “Ouch, why don’t you tell me how you really feel?” I keep my tone teasing and light to lift some of the surrounding tension.

Trina glares at me, her nostrils flaring in anger. “Fine. I’ll do that. I don’t make mistakes like this, Ben. I’m very careful with my life. Yet a couple hours alone with you—for the first time in almost a decade—and look what happens. You and I don’t mix well. We’re like oil and water.”

My pulse quickens, and my skin instantly heats, but I tamp down my irritation. “I get that you’re upset. I’m frustrated with the situation we’re in as well. But I’d say the problem is that we mix too well, given the right circumstances.”

“Is this all a joke to you?” she hisses.

I let my chin drop to my chest and grasp my head in my hands, not bothering to look up when I answer this time. “No, Trina. It’s not a joke. But I also don’t think it’s doing either of us any good to toss hurtful comments out at each other. Contrary to what you might think, this is stressful for me, too.”

I glance up in time to see her grimace in response to my words before she averts her gaze from me. “Sorry,” she mutters. “I’m not trying to be mean. But I hate feeling out of control like this.”

My heart softens a little since I know her efforts to control what she can are likely her coping mechanism for how helpless she felt growing up. Hell, I’m not even sure she knows that’s why she does it.

“It’s okay. Why don’t you just tell me what you learned today?”

Trina spends the next five minutes recapping her conversation with the lady from Vegas.

“So, essentially, the only way to be sure is for us to wait the ten days and check back to see if an officiant files the license? But it might take up to sixty days to get into the system?”

Trina frowns and nods at me.“So, we can’t do anything to fix this until we know for sure… Maybe up to sixty days.”

“Okay. Well, maybe I should call next time since the lady was rude to?—”

“No. I’ll call. I need to hear it for myself.”

“Sure.” I stand and push my chair back. “You’re welcome to sit here as long as you’d like, but I need to get back to work.”

Trina rises from her seat, clearly eager to leave. “One more thing. I’m aware you’re close to your family, but I don’t want anyone to know about this. Okay?”

I get it. I don’t want anyone to find out either. Still, it irks me she felt the need to say it and a pinching sensation needles my chest, uncomfortably similar to that day years ago. The day when we began to tumble into our downfall with the first of several arguments about her not wanting to tell people we were together. Neither of us was mature enough to recognize it at the time.

I give her a curt nod and walk away.

As I drive back to the police station, I can’t get Trina off my mind. There are several moments from our relationship that are forever seared into my brain. That last night together, when I stormed out of her apartment over the same argument we kept having, the night at Pat’s Diner when I ruined everything, and the night I first learned dating me embarrassed her. That was the night she told me she didn’t want anyone to know about us.

I’m pretty sure today couldn’t be any more perfect. It’s been a few weeks since I first kissed Trina outside her apartment. We’ve spent every free evening together, usually cloistered away in her apartment, snuggling on the couch while we watch a movie or eating take out. A few times we’ve met at one of the wooded paths in our park system and taken walks.

Today, though, it’s gorgeous out—eighty-degrees at eight-thirty p.m. We found a secluded stretch of beach off the lake, and we’ve laid out a blanket on the sand. I’m supposed to be reading some material I wanted to brush up on before I start school the week after next. But I’m super distracted because I can’t take my eyes off Trina. She’s stunning, sitting cross-legged on the blanket, holding a sketch pad on her lap as she scratches out a drawing of the sun setting over the water. Wispy pieces of her long blonde hair have fallen from her ponytail and frame her face.

As I lay on my side, I place my book on the blanket and, before I can stop myself, I reach up and tuck a stray strand of her hair behind her ear. When she turns and smiles at me, I almost can’t breathe. She’s so beautiful.

I stare at her as she places her sketch pad on the blanket, out of our way, and lies down next to me. We lock eyes for several long moments before she leans in and places her soft lips on mine. It’s a struggle, but I use all of my willpower to let her set the pace of the kiss.

God, she’s so damn good at this for a woman who has only kissed three guys before me. I wish I could say the same, but I’ve kissed more girls than I can count and have been with four different women since I started having sex at sixteen. I’m not proud of it. In fact, I regret it. Trina and I have done nothing but kiss so far, and yet it’s more meaningful than anything I’ve experienced with anyone else.

I’m not sure how long we get lost in each other, but it must be a while because the sun has mostly set and there’s very little light left. There’s enough, though, that when Trina rolls onto her back, takes my hand, then places it under her shirt, I can see every detail of her face as I pull back from the kiss. My eyes search hers.

“Trina?” I don’t break eye contact with her.

“Please,” she whispers.

I lower my mouth back to hers and caress her plush lips with my own as I tenderly brush my trembling fingertips over the exposed skin of her upper abdomen and side. When she opens her mouth slightly on a moan, my tongue delves inside, exploring her and trying my damnedest to show her how much I care about her without words.

After a few more minutes, when I stroke the underside of her breast with the pad of my thumb, she loses any sense of hesitancy. Instead, she grabs the bottom of my shirt with both hands and pulls up frantically. When she’s gotten it as far off of me as she can, I sit up and remove it the rest of the way. Trina surprises me when she sits up herself and removes her tank top. My breath stutters in my chest at how pretty she looks in her lacy blue bra.

---