Page 28 of Stay A Little Longer
Chapter Nine
Lance gifted him with that boyish grin, dimples and all, and it took everything in him for Trent not to simply drag him into his lap again. He wanted to. So bad. But he didn’t.
He’d been telling thetruth earlier. He’d spent all day wishing that he wasn’t playing third wheel to Lemon and Shane. He’d spent all day wishing that it was Lance showing him around the sweet, little, Texas town. Wishing that they lived in a world where nobody would care or even look twice if he held Lance’s hand while they walked down Main Street.
He’d missed him and how fucked up was that? They’d barely had a conversation. They’d given each other pleasure. And the odds were definitely not in their favor for anything good to come of this… whatever this was.
But Trent didn’t care.
He didn’t care that he was out. Didn’t care that Lance wasn’t. Didn’t want to think about how messy and complicated this could get. Definitely wasn’t thinking about what it would mean if he went to bed with Lance again when he’d never slept with the same man twice. Didn’t like that he wanted it to mean so much more than what it probably did.
The way his heart had leapt at the sound of Lance’s voice calling him back was… more. It had all been more. Everything with Lance was more.
From the moment he woke up and saw those darkly mysterious eyes and that sexy as sin body, he’d been a goner. From the second Lance responded to him, eyes wide and dilated, breath choppy and needy, he’d known that this guy fit him too perfectly. From that first moan, to the last sigh, to those damn dimples, he’d felt Lance slipping beneath his armor.
Spending more time with him would only make it more impossible to eventually leave him but for now, Trent was staying and the only thing he wanted was to spend every moment he had with this man.
This man that was so fucking adorable and sexy all at the same time. Blushing and stammering at one turn and arrogant and charming at the next. Trent needed to know more about him, everything about him, and he fully intended to question him just as Lance obviously had questions for him.
“Lance?”
“Hmm?”
“You want me to get you another beer?”
Lance bit his bottom lip but shook his head, “No, I’m good if you are.”
“I’m good.”
Trent didn’t need any liquid courage. Not with Lance. Something about this man made him want to divulge his every secret. Dangerous. But he liked it, like the feeling, liked Lance. He felt like he was standing on the edge of a cliff and with just the slightest step forward he’d plunge over into the abyss. Besides, if this night went the way he hoped it would, he didn’t want alcohol playing any role in the decisions either of them made.
He watched as Lance retrieved napkins and silverware, glasses of tea and water. He offered to help but Lance shook him off so he stayed put. He thought the other man might need a few more minutes to get his thoughts straight so he stayed quiet until Lance finally, finally, put the plated food on the table and sat down beside him.
“This looks good.”
Lance snorted, his dimples flashing as he shot an amused glance at Trent from beneath his lashes, “No it doesn’t.”
He chuckled, “It does.”
“It’s a burned steak, Trent. No sides. No extras. No frills. It’s probably the worst meal you’ve ever had.”
He almost responded with another joke. He liked Lance’s strange sense of humor. He liked seeing that smirking smile on that handsome face and knowing he’d put it there. But since they were supposed to be talking, getting to know each other, he went the other direction and dropped the most traumatic truth of his life.
“Definitely not the worst.” He waited until Lance glanced back up at him before adding, “Unless you plan on pointing a gun at me for dessert?”
Lance’s dark eyes flashed with shock, horror and then sadness. He opened his mouth, closed it again without saying anything and Trent didn’t blame him. There wasn’t much to say to that.
“Eat.” He picked up his knife, “Eat and I’ll tell you about it.”
“You don’t have to.”
Trent gave into the urge and reached out to stroke his fingers over Lance’s stubbled jaw, “I want to. Now, eat.”
Lance nuzzled into his touch slightly and then pulled away with a blush. Trent grinned. So damn adorable. He loved that one touch made the man melt for him. Because he felt the same damn way.
“I was seventeen when I came out to my family.” He started once Lance picked up his utensils, “I don’t know what I thought was going to happen. My parents were always very conservative. Old-fashioned. But we were never a very religious family so I guess I thought they’d be shocked and then get over it.”
The memory made his chest feel tight. It made the fear he’d felt that night rush back to the surface. He noticed his hands were shaking and put his utensils back down. He took a deep breath as he pictured his father’s face turning beet red at the same time his mothers turned pale white. He let it out as he saw his brother’s face, the one that looked so much like his own, simply freeze in shock and horror.
