Page 12 of Before You (Reckless Love #2)

I’m self-sabotaging this, and I shouldn’t be.

Trent still fits the mold of our relationship, but I’m not even trying to fit when I should be.

I exhale, taking a second to collect myself, slipping back into the calmer, more rational version of myself.

“It’s fine,” I say, reaching for his hand to squeeze it briefly.

“Do you remember the day we went to the Hamptons?” I ask, staring up at Trent’s kind features, seeing my reflection in his dark lenses.

Everything was easier in the summer, or maybe it still could be, and I’m the one making things difficult.

“Which time? We spent more than a couple of weekends there,” he says, and I wish I could read Trent’s mind to know what’s going through his head.

“The day we went to the little ice cream shop by the marina.”

“Of course I remember. You got a mint chocolate chip cone. What about it?” he asks, and I thread our fingers together.

“It was just a really good day,” I say, remembering how easy everything was with him.

We walked along the beach, and Trent pushed my ice cream cone up when I went to take a bite.

Some of it went up my nose, and we laughed so hard, he snorted, getting really embarrassed after.

It was cute to see Trent get flustered compared to his usual confidence.

“It was a really good day, wasn’t it? We should do something like it soon,” he says, and I actually really like the idea of us going on a date. I think it’ll help things feel more normal than whatever’s going on with me right now.

“What about sometime this week?” I ask, my chest filling with hope, but I know when his smile dims we won’t be going this week.

“I’m sorry. We’re busy with the pep rally and the first game,” Trent says, dragging a hand through his usually styled short blond hair. Everything about him is curated, fitting into a perfect, pretty picture.

I try not to deflate, but really? I know football is important, but he doesn’t have any time to go get ice cream? “You don’t have an hour to spare? It doesn’t have to be for long, but I think it’d be fun.” I don’t care what we’re doing, but quality time matters to me.

“I wish I could. I don’t want to make any promises I can’t keep,” he says, shrugging.

“I’m not asking you to keep a promise, I’m asking you to go on a date with me?”

Trent tilts his head in confusion, but I don’t know what there is to be confused about? “I have football. You’re not seriously upset with me about this, are you?”

I drop his hand and take a step back. This has backfired majorly. “Trent, I’m not upset. I just want to spend time with you, but you’re telling me you can’t promise to see me for an hour this week to get ice cream?”

“Well, you’re obviously welcome to stay the night any time you want.

I love you, Marley, but I don’t have time this week,” Trent says, and I don’t know if it’s the combination of him telling me he loves me but doesn’t have time this week, or him telling me I can stay the night any time that hurts more.

Maybe it’s not fair for me to compare this to my parents’ relationship, but my dad as a CEO always made a point to be home for dinner.

He might’ve had to return to the office after or work from his home office, but he made time, even when he had none to spare.

How could my father do all of that, but Trent can’t get ice cream this week?

“I think I’ll just stay at my apartment this week,” I say quietly, once again avoiding Trent telling me he loves me.

His jaw drops as an irritated scoff escapes his mouth. “Why are you acting like this?” Trent asks, an edge to his voice, putting a bad taste in my mouth. So he didn’t seem to care about not being able to see me all week, but me reaffirming I wouldn’t be staying the night with him is upsetting?

“You really don’t see anything wrong with what you said?

I’m asking you to carve out a small fraction of your week to go get ice cream with me, and your response was I can stay the night.

I’m your girlfriend, not some means to ‘getting laid’ as you like to put it,” I say, standing up for myself, and he reels back as if I’ve struck him.

“I’ve never said you were a means to getting laid.” Trent’s entire demeanor has changed, but if it walks like a duck, and it talks like a duck . . . the dots weren’t hard to connect with what his implication was for saying I can stay the night.

I cross my arms defiantly over my chest, and Trent shakes his head at me.

“I think we need to take a breather and talk about this later before one of us says something we regret,” he says, and as much as I don’t want to take a breather right now, he’s probably right.

“Fine,” I agree, and Trent steps closer to press a kiss to my cheek.

“I’ll call you later.”

I say nothing as Trent shoves his hands in his pockets, walking away, and my head is spinning. Seriously, what the fuck just happened?

Moving to sit on the bench a few feet away, I pull my phone out, my hands shaking. I should call Bria or Kaden, but for some awful reason, I press JJ’s number.

He answers immediately. “Your knight in shining armor, how may I be of service?” his deep voice asks, and the absurdity of it causes laughter to bubble from me, my frustration subsiding.

“Please tell me that’s not how you answer the phone.”

JJ chuckles. “No, who do you think I am? What’s up?”

Shit, I shouldn’t have called JJ. I know better—especially because he’s Trent’s roommate—but I think he’s also the only person who could make me smile right now. There’s nothing wrong with it because we’re just friends.

“Are you busy?” I ask before I can talk myself out of it.

“Never too busy for you,” he says, and if only he knew what a shot to the heart that is.

I look around, gauging how far I am from the nearest parking lot. Beaumont is not friendly for students who commute, most of the buildings on campus are only accessible by walking, but it’s not too far. “Any chance you could come pick me up? I’m by the lion fountain.”

“I’m leaving now. Am I rescuing you from an evil dragon?” he teases, and I wonder if JJ knows the weight he’s taking off my shoulders right now.

“You’re so weird, but yes, in a way you are rescuing me.” He’ll be rescuing me from myself because I’m the evil dragon, not Trent.

“Anyone I need to beat up? You know my muscles are huge from how much food I eat, so I think I could take anyone.”

“I do know how much you eat, but I’m not sure I can confirm the size of your muscles without inflating your ego,” I retort, shaking my head as I stand up to head toward the lot.

“You don’t need to beat anyone up. I could just use a friend right now,” I say quietly, hoping he doesn’t think I’m selfish for calling him.

“One friend coming right up,” JJ says without missing a beat.

“Great. I guess I’ll see you in a few then.” I smile in relief, because maybe JJ and I can successfully be friends.

“Wait, Marley,” he says, and I keep the phone up to my ear.

“Yeah?”

“Thanks for calling me.”

A smile forms on my face. “Thanks for making time for me.”