Shane and Trey[ Enemies to Lovers 01 ] (12 page)

“Hey, Shane.” “Ah, hey.” How did he know my name?

“You and Trey joining in on this floor party?” Probably not.I shrugged, and shuffled to pass him. “Leave your door open if you want to supply a room, or you can just take part.” I nodded, waving a hand to say,got it, now gotta go.“Start by going to the room with a big ‘one’ on it,” he called after me as I charged the rest of the way to my room.

I quickly covered my cut head with my hair, and inserted the key into the lock. Frigging, eh, why’d it have to make so much noise? Maybe I was lucky and he wouldn’t hear it over the music pumping through the halls. I opened the door, and —damn, Trey’d already moved from my bed. He stood with his back turned to me, but reflected in the window I could see him wiping tears from his face.

At that moment he looked up, staring at my reflection. The way our eyes connected, made my heart pound so hard I could hear it in my ears. Although we weren’t looking directly at each other, it was the most vulnerable, open look we’d shared. Barriers crashed down between us, and I was very aware as I stepped forward he was letting me closer. To the real him.

Not taking my gaze off his, I came up behind him, slipped my arms around his waist and hugged him. Our eye-contact broke, as I rested my good cheek in the middle of his shoulder blades (I was trying to avoid splotching him with blood). Feeling the way he shook under me, I held him tighter. Though it seemed that made it harder for him to get his breathing under control.

Wanting to say something, but having no idea what, I breathed heavily into his t-shirt and watched as goosebumps formed on his neck. Gods his body felt fine, hard and warm—so, so comfortable. Trey sniffed, and then turned around, quickly nudging my arms to his neck as he wrapped his around my middle and we continued to hold each other. I forced myself not to give in to the urge to link my legs around him, and kept the tips of my shoes the floor.

“Do you want to talk about it?” I said, and felt him shiver, but I wasn’t sure if it was at my suggestion, or at the way the words came out so close to his ear.

All too abruptly, he stepped away from me, and I saw properly his puffy red eyes. It made me want to grab him again and not let go, but—

“Shit man, you look awful.” Almost as soon as he’d said it, he’d grabbed a towel from his drawers and wet it with his water bottle.

“I’m fine, it’s just a scratch. And you’re not looking so great yourself.”

 

“What?” he said in mock offense. “Me, not look good? Liar.

Now, sit down and tilt your head.”
When I didn’t move right away, he grabbed my hand and led me to his bed. Firmly, but without hurting, he lifted my chin and dabbed the towel across my cut lip and forehead. I tried to grab it off him to do it myself, but he jerked his hand out of reach, and gave me a look that said:Don’t even think of trying that again.“Seriously, it’s just a scratch. I can clean it up myself.”

“It’s a bit more than a scratch; I can see that for myself. This is more an incision, a cut, a slash even.” He wiped more blood off my face, the hardness in his face had gone, replaced by—I gulped—could it be care? Worry? “Now, how the hell did you do this? I certainly hope, Uhhlirich didn’t allow this to happen.”

What was he on about—oh. “Um… yeah, about that.” I could have sworn Trey’s lips quivered on the verge of a grin, but he schooled his expression.

 

Du bist ein furchtbarer Lügner.“Okay, you know I lied. I was with Syd. Whatever, move on.”

A smile arched across his face, but soon dropped. He pressed the towel to my lip once more, although I was sur Ner ace more, e the blood had all been wiped off. “So how did this happen?”
“It’s no big deal. I just fell over a stupid brick.”

I expected him to laugh at me for that, or at least supply a small smile. It was stupid after all. Instead, his jaw hardened and I was pretty sure he shuddered. He chucked the towel to the floor. “You should be more careful!”

He lifted me from the bed and, with a quick thrust of one hand, turned me round. Huh?—what was this? Within the space of a few seconds I was back to facing him. “Other than your head,” he said, “you’re not hurt.”

“I could have told you that.”

He reddened, like the thought to ask me hadn’t crossed his mind. “Now, do you need a plaster on that?” He brushed the pad of his thumb under the cut on my forehead.
Before I could decline, Trey’s cell rang.

“Hello?...Oh, hey… yeah, sure, of course I will—am actually…Maybe see you next week?...I’d like that too. Ciao.”

He placed the phone on his side table and looked my injuries over once more. “That was June, calling to make sure I take care of you.”

“Didn’t know you two were talking again.” Why hadn’t she mentioned that?

 

“We have been. For the last week or so.” Right. Trey sunk into the pillows next to me on his bed. “Actually, she asked me to do the same with you.” He smiled, sweet and somewhat sad. “Oh, she did, did she?”

“Yeah.” “Is that why you held me just before?” Partly.“What was wrong, Trey?”

He flicked at a corner of a pillow, putting more and more energy behind it. “My aunt is depressed. She’s been in a wheelchair for years, but hates her life. And it’s just getting worse. Ma—it’s her sister—does a lot for her, but the constant work and stress is wearing her down.” He pummeled his fist into the bed. “I just feel useless, and responsible. I’ll have to see a way of helping out more.”

His use of the word ‘responsible’ in that sentence jarred me. I looked at him, at the hurt present in the planes of his face. “I’m very sorry for you and your family.”

“Thanks, man,” he said, jumping up from his bed. “Just gonna nip to the bathroom.”
What the…? The sudden end to the—what was it, opening up?—confused me. But then, maybe it was too hard to talk about? And, although what he’d mentioned was a big part in what was troubling him, I knew there was more to it. I’d heard that through the window.I’m feeling fucking awful, but thanks for asking.Yup, there were more issues than just his aunt. His mother and her reaction being one—what was that on about? Did everyone have family issues? And, let’s hazard a guess, two—his breakup with June and other…um, feelings around that.

Before I was aware of it, I’d taken off my shoes and grabbed my ‘blue baby’, feeling a new tune coming on. Words jumped at me and I dove for a pen and paper to write them down, stuffing them into my beside table drawer before Trey got back.

When he did, I was oh-so-innocently twiddling my thumbs and staring at the ceiling from my bed. Those pieces of lyrics just might have been R-rated. (Okay they definitely were).

“Were you playing?” he asked, and picked up the guitar I’d nestled between my legs. Then he handed it to me. “Play something to cheer me up?” His brow lifted slightly and with it a thrill zapped me all the way to my dick.

I sat up and took the guitar. The last song I’d played tonight only served to bum out big time. I didn’t feel like trying again. “What else would cheer you up?” Usually when I was down, I liked to curl up in bed and read, or put on a CD and turn it up loud and let the music feel for me.

Trey shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m jittery. I need to do something just to”—he sighed—“not think about things. Like go out dancing, or, I don’t know…”

An idea Nrchettery. I sparked in my head, half of me liked it because I knew Trey would like it, the other half insisted I not say anything. The first half won. “Well, how about the dorm-party thing? I could go offer our room?”

His face lit up like I’d bought him a puppy for his birthday or something. “Dude, you rock.”

I got up and placed the guitar on its stand. Man I hated that ‘dude’. I wanted the babe back. Where’d it go?Come back for me!

“But,” Trey said, coming from right behind me, “let’s not offer our room.”

 

“Why n—”

“Because I know how much you’d hate that,” he answered, and spun me around to his grinning face. “Instead, we are going to visit all the other rooms. And you are not to leave my side, got it?”

Well, the only reason I was going to any party was to cheer him up, so why would I run off? Okay, unless it was —ahhh—“I got it. I won’t come back to the room unless you’ve Okayed it.”

“Great. Now that we have that settled, let’s go.” “Hold on a tick, I need to shower first. Give me twenty, yeah?”

Forty minutes later, ah, yeah—the water was just so warm! —Trey led us to the room with a number ‘one’ on it. Seemed he knew exactly how these parties worked. The guy that’d talked to me before waved us over to him in the corner of the very cramped and sweaty room. There must have been close to fifty people, talking or shouting to one another. Trey cuffed my wrist and, as crowds melted to the side to accommodate his size and gorgeousness, pulled me through to the corner with ease. People kepthey man- ing him, and he replied to everyone by name.

“Hey Dave,” Trey said. “What’s the program?”

“Okay. There are four rooms. Take one or two or however many people you’re comfortable with to each room. You have five minutes a room. A bell goes off signaling for the change. We’re staggering, which is why it’s cramped in here. But the wait’s worth it. And at the other end there’s a room for dancing. You’ll know it by the strobe lighting.”

Trey nodded like he knew what the guy was on about. As Trey found out what was going on, a petite girl with fiery red hair and funky glasses came up to me. “Oh, you’re a hottie. Would you like to go a round with me?”

A round ofwhat? And,no.

After I managed to show enough lack of interest, she disappeared, and I focused back on Dave. “And if you have any problems. I can take you through the rooms myself and demonstrate, if you’d like?” Dave flashed Trey a warm smile and touched his arm. Hey, wait a—Get your hands off!Like, fuck, why couldn’t others be straight when you need them to be? I jerked Trey in my direction as Dave leaned even closer to him. I knew he wasn’t mine, and he could flirt with anyone he chose, but—but I’d be damned if anyone else got him!

Trey had a sneaky grin on his face, and pointedly moved in toward Dave and whispered in his ear. The blood drained from my face, and I felt sick. I didn’t want to witness this. I pushed my way (awkwardly) through the crowd and out of the room. Taking a deep breath, I tried to calm that iron hot prod of jealousy and hurt in my stomach. Yet how could I claim hurt? We didn’t have anything together. He’d done nothing wrong. I still wanted to kick something though. I eyed the wall; it looked solid enough not to cause any damage, but then doing that in my flip-flops might hurt.

I started to storm off down the hall, when Trey’s voice stopped me. “Where the hell are you going? Get your ass back here.”

I flipped him off and continued toward my room. A few steps later, a hand landed heavily on my shoulder. “Stop with this crap.” Trey handed me something. “Drink this. I scored it from Dave.”

Stupid Dave. I scowled and shook my head. “Fine, your loss.”

I made to leave again, but he tightened his grip. “D Nrchegain,on’t. Just go one round with me, okay?”

I gave in. For half an hour we sat leaning against the wall, watching as couples and groups moved from room to room when the bell sounded through the hall. Finally, it was our turn. I was glad because an end to this party was in sight. “So what is the deal with each room anyway?” I asked as Trey pushed me toward the first of the rooms which had a huge balloon attached to the door.
“Each room has a rule. You have to obey the rule when you’re in there.”

Inside, a large placard had been placed on a chair. ‘The Plank’ it’d been titled. I scanned the rule—actually it was more like directions, and shook my head. Trey was laughing.

“Great. You’re going to get soaked!” he said.

I perked up at that. Did he think he’d be able to hit me with more water balloons? “What? Hell no.” We both turned to the two opened windows (at opposite ends of a large room) with a thick plank of wood extending outside from them. Climbing up at the same time we each (unsteadily) made our way to the other end of plank—although, the thing reminded me more of a gymnasts beam, supported at the other end by the top of a truck. Who’d volunteered for that?

In the middle of each truck roof was a hose and a box of balloons. I grabbed a hose and filled up a balloon. Although Trey had moved slower over the plank, he had the advantage of being able to tie the damn things up. I gave up trying, just kept it pinched shut. I needed to move back into the middle of the plank and ready myself to dodge while keeping my balance and throw.

I eyed up the fifteen foot distance between us. This wouldn’t be so easy—Trey’s first balloon caught my ear, splashing water all down my side. Shit he had good aim. I tried whirling my balloon at him, praying it twisted enough so the water wouldn’t come out before it hit him. Massive failure. So, yeah, within the five minutes we had there, Trey managed to land four balloons (I avoided two—that was something, right?), and I hadn’t wet him a drop. All because I couldn’t freaking tie them up. Worse than getting halfsoaked, though, was Trey’s bounding laugh, echoing off all the cars just to mock me more.Arghhhh! Just you wait, Trey Brennan. I’m soooo getting you for this.

The bell sounded, and we made our way to the next room, Trey chuckling at me as I tried to squeeze the water from my t-shirt. I rammed into his side trying to knock him off balance, but he barely budged. It just made him laugh louder again. I pushed my way past him and entered the second room.

Anything commanded in this room, must be acted out.

Trey sat on one of the beds, and I moved to the other so we were practically a room apart. He watched me, shaking his head, and once I’d seated, came over to me. “What’s with the distance?”

I shrugged. “No reason.” He crouched to my level (he was in front of me) and cocked his head. “Good. Now take off your shirt.”

My mouth dropped open in surprise. “What? And nuh-uh, you have to go first. This whole thing is your idea.”

“Actually,” he said with a grin so delicious I wanted to lick it off, “it was your idea to come to the party. To cheer me up, remember?”

I was so glad we hadn’t turned on the lights in the room, because my face felt pretty hot. “And why my t-shirt?”

“Because,” he said, closing the gap between us to an inch, and placing his hands-large, warm ones—onto my sides. “I don’t want you to catch a cold.” With that he slid his hands to the edge of the t-shirt, and tugged. I lifted my arms for him, sucking in a breath as his knuckles grazed over my skin.