Page 28 of Heartbreak Honey

Now

It’s been a few days and they’ve settled into a domestic routine. One of them walks Stella in the morning, sometimes picking up bagels, and if not, the other one cooks breakfast. A little after they eat, they do yoga together (Trevor hasn’t admitted he’s started to like it, but he’s sure his lack of complaining has given him away), and then Skyler spends time in the afternoon working on music. Later one of them will go out to grab takeout for dinner or Skyler will cook. Then they’ll spend time together at night, either watching TV or playing a game, but they go to sleep in separate bedrooms because it’s still a bit uncertain where they stand on that front.

Trevor can tell how happy Skyler is that he decided to stay with him, though it’s not enough. Skyler’s clearly still waiting for him to make the move. And he wants to. Boy. Does. He. Fucking. Want. To. But if he kisses Skyler, then that’s it. This starts again. Which means it could end again.

Damn, he’d give anything to have the same confidence and courage he had when he first met Skyler. It was a little scary then—the first time he wanted to be with a guy—but that didn’t stop him from showing Skyler how he felt.

Although, if he’s being honest, even back then Skyler had to urge Trevor to kiss him for the first time.

Fucking hell.

He’s hopeless.

But he doesn’t need to worry about kissing Skyler tonight, at least, because they’re going downstairs to hang out with Layla.

As the elevator opens and Trevor steps into the penthouse with Stella after their evening walk, he finds Skyler bent over peering into the oven. The sight short-circuits his brain for a second. Then Stella runs to greet Skyler as if she hadn’t seen him twenty minutes ago, and Skyler pets her before straightening up, mercifully allowing Trevor to function again.

He gestures to the oven and says, “I thought we were ordering pizza.”

“We are. But I made cookies.” Skyler smiles brightly, then goes to rifle through a cabinet.

“You’re cute.” Trevor flinches as soon as his words slip out, but Skyler’s busy pulling out a square Tupperware container from underneath a stack of other kitchenware, and either doesn’t register him saying it or doesn’t find anything weird about it.

“Do you need to change?” Skyler asks.

“I don’t think so.” He glances down at his T-shirt and fitted black lounge pants. “Do I need to?” Suddenly, he’s self-conscious about the way he looks. Skyler sees him like this all the time, but maybe he should make more of an effort for Layla.

The way Skyler pauses what he’s doing and rakes his eyes over Trevor’s body makes it obvious he doesn’t see anything wrong with the way Trevor’s dressed though. Trevor’s face heats under the attention.

Finally, Skyler clears his throat. “You look fine. Why don’t you go down ahead of me? Cookies will be out in a second, but they need a few minutes to cool.” He frowns down at himself. “And I should probably change my shirt.”

Skyler holds up his arm so Trevor can see the hole in the armpit of his Fleetwood Mac tee. He’s owned that shirt since before Trevor met him, and it’s so threadbare that having only one hole is a miracle, but Trevor’s pretty sure that what started as a tiny hole in the seam was ripped into a much larger one by his dog. Now he can see the top of Skyler’s ribs—the top of the door tattoo—and he’d be more apologetic about Stella’s behavior if Skyler hadn’t been the one to get her all riled up by rolling around on the floor with her and grabbing at her paws. And Skyler hasn’t shied away from playing rough with her since that incident either, so he must not be too concerned about it.

It takes a second for Trevor to realize Skyler’s telling him to go to Layla’s apartment by himself. And when he doesn’t make any move to do that, Skyler gives him a curious look.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, I just…”

Really want to kiss you right now.

That wasn’t what he was thinking at first. But the way Skyler can tell so easily when he’s not okay, and the way he looks standing there in a ratty T-shirt waiting for his cookies to finish baking… Well.

But Trevor stays rooted to the floor, because being in this limbo is safer.

“You can wait for me if you want?”

“Huh?”

“If you’d rather go down together,” Skyler says.

Oh, right. That’s what they were talking about. Trevor is a bit nervous about hanging out with Layla, considering how he made a fool of himself by getting totally wasted the last time he saw her. But going alone will give him a chance to apologize for that, so maybe he should.

“No, it’s okay, I’ll go. You take your time,” he says. “Can you feed Stella her dinner?”

Skyler nods. “Absolutely.”

Trevor’s struck again with the urge to kiss him. Because he’s there, and he’s so good, and if this were years ago, one of them would have kissed the other goodbye before walking out the door.

But it’s not years ago. It’s now.

And now he doesn’t know what to do.

Skyler’s watching as Trevor stands there awkwardly, and it’s like he knows what Trevor’s thinking, like his indecision is written all over his face.

So before Skyler can say anything else, Trevor says, “See you in a bit,” and rushes back to the elevator.

Like. A. Coward.

As he’s about to knock on Layla’s door, he fights himself to relax. It was his nerves that got the best of him the other night. He can’t mess up again. There are only so many chances this family will give him, no matter how kind and wonderful they are. At some point, surely, they’re going to give up on him if he doesn’t get his shit together.

When he knocks, he hears Layla’s voice shouting out immediately. “Oh my god, did you hear Dad bought a motorcycle? He’s totally—” The door opens and she cuts herself off, blinking at him. “Going through a midlife crisis,” she finishes. “Hey, Trevor. I thought Sky would be with you.”

“It’s only me,” he says with a guilty shrug. “Sorry to disappoint. He’ll be down in a bit.”

Layla pulls him in for a quick hug. “You’re not a disappointment. I just got off the phone with my mom, and I couldn’t wait to laugh about this ridiculousness with Skyler, that’s all.”

She steps aside and gestures for him to come in, so he does, walking into the living area and taking it in. He temporarily forgets about his nerves when he spots the giant framed poster hanging on her wall, his eyes widening in astonishment.

It’s Skyler at one of his concerts, dropped to his knees onstage, head thrown back, wearing a sparkly purple vest with no shirt underneath, sweat glistening on his skin. He looks insanely hot, and Trevor’s mouth might have gone dry staring at it, if it weren’t for the hilarity of Skyler’s own sister having this displayed in her living room.

He turns to her, ready to say something teasing—something like how it’s a little disturbing that she’s a groupie—but she holds up her hand, stopping him.

“Yes, okay, I know how that looks. You don’t have to say it. But I’m insanely proud of my lame ass brother, so leave me alone.”

He laughs. “You should be proud of him. But a picture like that? Seriously?”

She rolls her eyes. “I know. I didn’t think about it when I got it. I was at that show, and I remember how much it struck me that night that he’d really become a freaking rockstar. How he can totally captivate the attention of an entire stadium full of people. But the first time I invited one of my friend’s over and she couldn’t stop drooling, I realized I should have chosen something tamer.”

He laughs at her again, and she shoves him playfully, only making him laugh harder.

“I can’t help it that he’s hot, okay?” she says. “God, gross!”

It takes Trevor a moment to stop finding this so funny, and then he takes another moment to stare at the poster and appreciate it.

Layla shoves him again. “Please don’t get hard looking at a picture of my brother. I’ve witnessed enough of that with you staring at him in real life.”

“That’s not true!” he argues. Not because he hasn’t gotten hard before just looking at Skyler—of course he fucking has. But he’s pretty sure it’s never happened in front of her. The wry look she gives him now, though, makes him less sure. “Okay, I promise not to make fun of you for the thirst trap poster you have of your brother, if you promise never to mention that again,” he tells her.

She puts her finger to her chin, pretending to consider his offer. “Not sure if I can do that. But we can agree to a truce for now.”

“Fine.”

She motions to one of the couches and says, “Sit down, I’ll grab us something to drink.” So Trevor sits while she walks to the kitchen. “Do you want beer, wine, Dr. Pepper… ?”

He cringes at her nonchalantly offering him alcohol as if he didn’t get completely obliterated within ten minutes of seeing her last time. At least she wasn’t there to witness how fully he embarrassed himself with Skyler afterward, but he’s fairly certain he did plenty of embarrassing stuff in front of her too, even if he can’t remember too many details. “I’ll take a soda. Thanks.”

Coming over to him with two cans of Dr. Pepper in her hand, she says, “So can we get back to the motorcycle?”

He smiles, taking the soda she offers him. “Right, your dad.”

It makes him warm and fuzzy, how she wanted to talk about this family drama with Skyler, but since Trevor’s here, she’ll talk about it with him instead. Because he used to be a part of the family.

“Oh my god, it’s crazy, right?” She sits on the other couch and pulls her legs up underneath her, angling to face him. “He’s going to get himself killed.”

Trevor pictures Mr. James, with all his history books and his brown, thick-framed glasses. He remembers how he wore a red cable-knit cardigan one Christmas Eve, which prompted Layla to call him Mr. Rogers for the entire night until he got annoyed enough to take it off. He remembers him poking gently at the logs in the fireplace to keep the fire going. Remembers how he forced all of them to play some complicated, educational board game that only Mr. James and Skyler enjoyed, but the rest of them did it with only minimal complaints because they loved him.

He can’t picture Mr. James on a motorcycle, but he has the urge to defend him anyway. “I’m sure he wouldn’t be riding it if he didn’t know what he was doing.”

“I promise you, he has no idea. He’s lost his mind! And he hasn’t even ridden it yet. It’s just sitting there taking up space in the driveway. But he bought a leather jacket too, and he swears he’s going to ride it, so naturally, my mom’s freaking out. She called to ask me to talk some sense into him because he won’t listen to her.”

“Will he listen to you?”

“Hell no!” She huffs out a laugh and then takes a sip of her soda. “He might listen to Sky though.”

That makes sense. It’s funny how different Skyler and his dad appear to be now, with Skyler living his rock star life, but deep down, the two of them are very similar.

“Does he even have a license for it?” Trevor asks.

Layla shakes her head vigorously. “Nope. Like I said, total mid-life crisis move.”

“Maybe he’s just bored.”

“Then he and Mom should become swingers or something. Because that would be less weird.”

“Oh hell!” he yells, cringing. “No, it wouldn’t! How can you even think about that? Ew, fuck.”

Layla laughs like him being disturbed by the idea of Mr. and Mrs. James having sex is amusing. And he realizes that he’s reacting as if they were his own parents. Unjustly horrified by the concept like any child would be. Except Layla, apparently.

Thankfully, she doesn’t say anything else on that topic, but then in the conversational lull, Trevor can’t keep his eyes from drifting to the poster of Skyler. He thinks he’s being subtle about it, until Layla says, “Seriously, can you stop checking him out?”

“I’m not.” He was, but that’s not the point. “It’s just pretty incredible, right? To see what he’s achieved. How he’s become an actual icon. I always knew he’d be a huge star someday, but this is on a whole other level. The way he’s so confident in himself is…”

She nods like she gets what he’s trying to say, which is good, because it’s hard to put into words how proud of Skyler and amazed by him Trevor is.

“He’s still the sweetest guy in the world,” Layla says. “But when he’s onstage he knows exactly how good he is. He knows how much everyone loves him and wants him, and he feeds off it. Plays into it, cocky and unashamed. And you gave that to him, you know.”

“What? I don’t know if that’s true.” If anything, Trevor would think it’s the opposite. Think he was responsible for destroying some of Skyler’s confidence, leaving him unsure of everything by the time things ended with them.

Layla assesses him sharply before her gaze turns soft. “Trevor. After you spent all those years constantly telling him how amazing and talented he was, and showing him how much you loved him, you don’t think you’re at least partially responsible for giving him his sense of confidence? He wasn’t like this before he met you. He was never ashamed of who he was or anything, but he used to wander around like an awkward baby duckling. Now he struts across every stage like he owns it.”

Trevor shrugs. “He was a teenager before I met him. He grew up, that’s all.”

“Yeah, he did. And he was lucky enough to grow with you by his side. Being loved by you helped shape the person he is now.”

Trevor’s speechless at that, incapable of unsticking any words from his throat. Finally, when he manages, all he can say is, “He did the same for me.”

Layla smiles softly, and all at once it’s too much. She’s being too nice to him. He doesn’t deserve it after acting like an idiot when he saw her for the first time in five years. He wants her to know that’s not him. That he doesn’t normally drink to the point of being unable to control himself.

“Hey, about the other night,” he starts, willing himself to hold eye contact with her even though he’s embarrassed. “I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to apologize for,” she tells him.

But that’s not true, is it? He needs to apologize for so much. Even more than just the other night. He may have built up Skyler’s confidence, but he destroyed him in other ways too.

And maybe having the ability to read his mind isn’t strictly a Skyler James skill. Maybe it’s a James skill, because Layla gives him a piercing look and says, “Okay.”

“Okay, what?”

“Let’s get everything out right now.” She pauses to take a sip and then sighs. “It’s obvious you still feel guilty for how it all ended with you and Sky. And I’m guessing you’re worried that I’m still going to be mad at you for it. But I’m not. I never was.”

Trevor holds his breath. He wants to tell her she should be mad, that he’s mad at himself. But he can tell she’s not finished.

“The two of you loved each other so damn much,” she says. “Which made it so you could hurt each other just as much. After you broke up, I couldn’t imagine you’d ever be able to get back together. There was so much pain. For both of you.” She shifts in her seat, hesitating, like she’s not sure if she should say what she wants to say next. “But now that you’re in his life again, I know Sky’s going to fight his hardest to keep you.”

Well. Not exactly what Trevor expected her to say. The Jameses are always full of surprises.

“That’s the thing, though,” he tells her. “The problem was never him not fighting hard. It was me not fighting hard enough for him.”

“I wouldn’t say that was your only problem. You shouldn’t take all the blame for how things went down. But.” She gives him that piercing look again, and he fights the urge to shrink into the couch cushions, away from the eyes that aren’t quite as green as Skyler’s, but definitely formidable. “Are you ready to fight now?”

“I—”

He doesn’t know what to say, but he can’t ignore the question when she put it so plainly like that. As if being ready is all it takes.

And maybe it is. Or maybe it’s a start, at least.

Trevor’s suddenly so deeply tired of not letting himself have what he wants. Of punishing himself for the choices he made in the past. Which might not have been the right choices, but he was doing the best he knew how to do with the circumstances he was in.

But the circumstances are different now.

And it’s not Layla he needs to say any of this to, is it?

Because he’s ready. He fucking is.

He stands abruptly, almost slamming his soda can down on the coffee table. Layla must somehow understand what he’s about to do, because instead of looking at him like he’s lost his mind, she smiles and stands too. When she gives him a tight hug, he breathes her in. She still smells like family to him.

“I love you, Lay-lay,” he whispers into her hair. She’s obviously straightening it these days, because he knows if she wasn’t, it’d be as wild and curly as Skyler’s.

“Love you too, big brother.”

Trevor”s eyes widen as they pull apart, and he’s worried he might start to cry.

But then she punches him on the shoulder and says, “Go on then.”

So he does. He takes off, rushing out of her apartment and running the short distance to the elevator. If this were one of the romcoms Skyler loves, it would be the scene where the music crescendos and you know something pivotal is about to happen. And Trevor’s not sure if it’s fitting or obnoxious that the music he hears in his head now is a damn Boys Will Be Boys song.

When you think you can’t go on

When you think you’re all alone

I’ll run to you

I’ll run, run, run to you

He jabs his finger at the up-arrow button, impatient to get to Skyler. The elevator dings only seconds later, and when the doors open, the love of his life is standing right there, holding a Tupperware container full of cookies. Trevor surges forward with no hesitation and kisses him, pushing him backward against the elevator wall.

There’s no finesse in the way he presses his mouth against Skyler’s, only a sense of urgency, like if he doesn’t do this now, he could possibly lose his chance forever. And Skyler kisses him back in the same way. Caught up in the feelings of yes and good and right, Trevor only vaguely registers the sound of Tupperware hitting the floor as both of Skyler’s arms wrap around his waist.

He brings one hand to the back of Skyler’s neck, applying the slightest pressure until the weight of Skyler’s body sags into him. His other hand cradles Skyler’s jaw, so he feels it under his fingertips when Skyler opens his mouth wider, letting him in.

They kiss each other like they’ve gone five years without it and they’re making up for lost time.

The elevator doors could reopen at any moment and someone could catch them. But Trevor doesn’t care. Because he means it, he means it, he means it.

Eventually, after who knows how long, they need to stop to catch their breath. When they pull apart, Skyler’s mouth still hangs open a bit and his eyes are shining with happiness, and Trevor wants to kiss him again. But Skyler beats him to it. He takes Trevor’s hand and leans in, calm and sure. It’s much gentler this time, and unhurried. A few soft caresses of their lips against each other’s.

Something settles in Trevor’s chest, a feeling of ease and contentment. They still have so many things from their past they should talk about and work through. But they never needed to work at this part. They were always so good at it. Kissing Skyler has always come as naturally to him as breathing.

Skyler’s eyes shift down to the floor, and when Trevor looks, he sees the Tupperware container.

He giggles. “Sorry about your cookies.”

Skyler grins. “I’m sure they’re fine. And anyway, that was so worth it.”

Trevor tries not to blush as he picks up the container, handing it to Skyler. “I think Layla’s waiting for us.”

Truthfully, she may not be expecting them anymore, having an idea of what Trevor ran out of her apartment to do. But Trevor knows how much spending time with his sister means to Skyler, since they usually live so far away from each other.

Skyler tucks the cookies safely under one arm and reaches for Trevor’s hand again. He doesn’t let go as Trevor knocks on Layla’s door or after she pulls it open. And she must notice, but she doesn’t comment on it.

As they step inside, Skyler passes her the Tupperware and proudly announces, “I made Snickerdoodles. Your favorite.”

She eagerly pulls off the lid, but her grin turns into a frown as she peers inside the container. “Why are some of them broken?”

Trevor snorts, and Skyler elbows him in the side. Layla glances back and forth between the two of them before rolling her eyes in exasperation.

And everything is exactly as it should be.