Page 10 of Ordinary Secrets (Secrets Trilogy #1)

10

ARELLA

At exactly six o’clock, someone lightly thumps their knuckles against my apartment door.

I jump in front of the mirror to inspect myself one last time. The extra minutes I spent on my makeup paid off. I look like I’m glowing. My lacy plum-colored dress falls just above my knees, and my hair features more defined waves, thanks to my curling wand.

I know, I know, tonight’s not a date. That doesn’t mean I can’t look cute though. I was never allowed to wear anything like this around my ex. He would yell at me for dressing like a “slut.” To him, showing legs is “asking for it.” Now that I’m done living by his rules, I’m going to wear whatever I please.

The second I open the door, Trey whistles through his teeth. “Damn. If I knew I was gonna have competition, I would have tried harder.”

I almost laugh. There is no competition, and if there was, he’d win. Trey looks more gorgeous than the last time I saw him. I’m not even sure how that’s possible. Hair fluffed up, perfectly trimmed stubble, and an irresistible smile to top it all off.

He’s in his usual black V-neck that hugs his broad shoulders and a pair of jeans that hangs a little low on his narrow hips. If he raised his arms up, I’d probably get a glimpse of those defined abs Google images showed me earlier.

“Ready?” he asks with the sunlight hitting him in just the right way for me to see how smooth his skin is. I’m jealous. I want skin like that. I’ll bet he’s never had a blemish.

I nod eagerly, yet not as eagerly as I feel. “Ready.”

As he leads me to his car, my eyes scan the parking lot. I think we’re in the clear. If my ex was here, we would have known by now. He would have picked a fight with Trey the moment Trey knocked on my door.

How embarrassing would that have been? Now that I think about it, maybe this dinner thing isn’t a good idea. What if, when Trey drops me off later?—

“I’ve been looking forward to this all day,” Trey says, cutting into my thoughts.

I fake a smile, pretending that I wasn’t thinking up ways to end the evening right now. “Me too. Where are we going?”

“It’s a surprise, remember?” Trey opens the passenger door for me—like a gentleman. “Hop in.”

I don’t move, even though I appreciate his kind gesture. “This isn’t a date, remember?”

He rolls his eyes and chuckles. “Just get in.”

Once we’re on the road, Trey turns the radio down. “How was your nannying job today?”

“Wonderful.” I tell him about the four kids I spend every weekend with and how we finger-painted dinosaurs on canvases. “How about you? What did you do today?”

“Sunday is the band’s day off. I literally just sat around until it was time to pick you up.” His tone is gloomy, like he wishes he had other things he could have been doing. I imagine him in his big living room, all by himself, aimlessly staring at a clock. Surely, he was more productive than that.

Trey flicks his blinker on and speeds to pass a slow car. “So, you told Liz that you’ve lived everywhere in Cali. Where’d you live before you moved to LA?”

I can’t believe he remembers that. I didn’t think he was paying attention to anything that was said in the car the day we met. He seemed so out of it. “I moved here from Brawley. It’s a small town about three hours south of here.”

“Where’d you grow up?”

“My grandparents and I have moved around every year since I was little, so I kind of grew up everywhere.”

Trey merges between two trucks, then into the left lane. “I see. What are your grandparents’ names?”

“Phil and Roxy.”

“Last name?”

I’m not sure why their last name matters. I tell him anyway. “Ward. How about you? Where did you grow up?”

“Three Rivers. It’s near Fresno.”

“Did you go to college there?”

He keeps his gaze aimed out the windshield. “Nah. I never went to college. You?”

“I studied early childhood education at UCLA. Originally, I wanted to be a kindergarten teacher. Then I realized my passion is baking. I want to have my own bakery someday. I already have a name picked out.”

“Which is?”

“A Slice A Day.” Just saying it out loud gets me excited, even though the reality of that dream is so far away.

“What do you like to bake?”

I can’t believe he’s actually asking questions about me right now. More so, I can’t believe he’s not trying to tell me stuff about himself that he thinks will impress me. I thought that was a first-date standard for men. “I do it all. Mostly cakes and cupcakes, because I love to decorate.”

“I’d love to see some of your work.”

I perk up. “I’ve got a blog you could check out.”

“That’s cool. Could you send me the link? I can take a look later.”

“Sure.” I’ll text him my link, but I have no confidence that he’ll ever enter my website. Trey doesn’t strike me as a man with an interest in cake decorating.

“When did you start baking?”

I spiral into my story of getting my first Easy-Bake Oven and always helping Grammy in the kitchen. Trey listens with nods, asking the occasional follow-up question. I can’t remember the last time I spoke this long without a man interrupting me. Usually, I don’t even talk this much. With Trey, I can’t stop. Although I could go on and on about baking.

“Enough about me,” I say a while later. “Tell me about your hobbies.”

“I don’t have any.”

I eye him. “You play music.”

“Yeah, but it’s also my career, so does it still count as a hobby?”

“What about your nonprofit organization? Is that a hobby for you?”

Trey turns his head to stare at me. “How do you know I have one?”

“Oh, I—um, I might have . . . Googled you.”

Chuckling, he shakes his head at me. “Don’t believe half the shit you read.”

“You don’t have a nonprofit?”

“I do, but the rest is trash.”

I twist at the hip to face him. “Like what?”

“Tell me what you read, and I’ll tell you if it’s true.”

“You can play over twenty-five instruments?” I’ve already seen him play three. Twenty-five blows my mind. I can’t even play one.

He pauses with a thinking face on. “True, probably. I haven’t really counted.”

“You produce all of your band’s work?”

“Half true. I do most of it, but it’s not all me.”

“I read something about how you broke someone’s car window while filming one of your music videos.”

“Hey.” He lifts his pointer finger, laughing. “It was an accident, and they weren’t supposed to be parked there.”

I tap my chin. “Seems like my research has been accurate so far. What about the Liz rumors?”

Trey groans as his hands slide down the steering wheel. “Which ones?”

“The ones about how you two date on and off, and you’re always leaving her for other women.”

He laughs, and it eases the pang of jealousy in my belly. “Liz told me about that one. Those people twisted my interview into something it wasn’t. They asked me about my relationship with her, since our fans are always pinning us together. I told them that Liz means a great deal to me but I’d never make her my girlfriend. They reworded it, saying that I was sleeping with her but refused to commit.” He sighs deeply. “Media these days.”

Why does it thrill me so much to hear that he doesn’t have a thing with Liz? I mean, he’s already said it before, but hearing it again feels more validating. This is not a date , I remind myself . This is not a date.

“Anything else you read about me?” he asks.

I read that his parents were killed in a house fire. It made me feel bad for asking if he saw his family often. I can’t believe he didn’t mention that his parents were gone when I told him about mine. Anyone else would have. Not many people lose both parents to tragic accidents as young kids. Why didn’t he want to tell me that we have that in common? Maybe it’s still hard for him to talk about it. Either way, I’ll try not to mention that I already know, since he obviously didn’t want to tell me, but maybe he needs a little push.

“I read a little about your foundation and how it supports school-aged kids with deceased parents. Tell me more about that.”

Trey goes back to gripping the steering wheel at the top. “Not much to tell. We just offer free mentors, tutors, and funding for therapy and after-school activities. Whatever keeps the kids busy.”

“That’s wonderful of you.” I gave him the perfect opening to tell me about his parents, and he didn’t take it.

“Eh. Don’t give me too much credit. It wasn’t my idea. It was my friend Sharon’s. I agreed to finance it with the expectation that I wouldn’t have to get too involved. The extent of my duties is transferring a chunk of my bank account over each month and signing a few papers here and there.”

“Oh, I’m sure you do more than that.”

“I really don’t. I used to mentor one of the kids. I stopped once...” His face falls.

“Once what?”

He rakes a hand through his dark locks, keeping his eyes glued to the road. “Uh, about five months ago, my mentee kid—he, um, he... passed away.”

The car goes silent as Trey swallows his pain, and it makes my heart ache for him. “That must have been really hard.”

“Yeah, well, I never wanted to be a mentor. I got guilt-tripped into it. Once Elliott was gone, I decided getting close to the kids wasn’t for me, so I quit.” He clears his throat. “Anyway, do you like pasta?”

I take the hint. “I love pasta.”

“Good. We’re going to my favorite pasta place in Long Beach.”

“Long Beach?” I didn’t realize how long we’d been driving for and in what direction. I assumed Trey was taking me somewhere in LA.

He must see the discomfort on my face. “Is that okay?”

“Isn’t it too late to change plans now?”

“I can turn around and we can go somewhere else, if that’s what you want.”

Do I want that? If we’re going to Long Beach, the likelihood of us running into my ex is low. One would think that with living in a big city like Los Angeles, he’d be harder to run into, right?

Wrong.

Living on the other side of the city doesn’t stop him from showing up behind me at the grocery store. Or getting gas at the same time and station I’m at. Or “coincidentally” going to the dentist at the same time too. Yes, I can’t even get my teeth cleaned without him following me there.

“Actually, Trey, I think Long Beach sounds wonderful!”