Now he hopes Skyler’s not thinking about how the two of them tried to ignore the problems in their relationship until everything blew up in their faces, destroying them and everyone around them too. Clearly that’s not what Trevor’s thinking about. Nope. Not at all.
“It was brave, you know,” he says after a minute, because he can’t stand the silence.
“What was?”
“You. Coming out to the whole world. It was really fucking brave.”
Skyler scratches at the back of his hand. “Thanks. I appreciate that, though I don’t quite see it that way. It was more like I was going crazy, wasting so much energy on worrying about hiding a basic, essential part of who I am. But if people don’t like who I am, then fuck ‘em. They can stop listening to my music if they want. I don’t care.”
“I get it,” Trevor tells him. “I mean, even while we were in the band, you wanted to do it.”And you didn’t, because of me.
“Yeah, but you were right about how I couldn’t.Wecouldn’t. Back then, it would have affected way more than just us. It wouldn’t have been fair to the guys.”
“I think they would’ve understood and supported us though. If we’d decided we really wanted to do it.”
They’d all basically said as much, hadn’t they? Or Oli and Jermaine had, at least. Noah had been the most concerned about not letting anything derail their success. He was also, naturally, the most bitter when Trevor and Skyler’s drama totally ended the band, and he hasn’t spoken to Trevor a single time since.
Skyler shrugs. “Still. It would have been selfish.”
Skyler’s probably the least selfish person he’s ever known. And Trevor was nothingbutselfish in convincing Skyler to keep his sexuality—and therefore, their relationship—a secret.
Not only was he not ready to face the world himself as an openly bisexual boybander, but he also couldn’t stand the idea of his and Skyler’s relationship being up for public scrutiny. Didn’t want it reduced to fodder for the media.
Even though Skyler’s staring down at the top of the picnic table now, idly peeling at the chipped wood, and doesn’t seem to need a response from him, Trevor can’t help it. “You were never selfish. And maybe you deserved to be.”
Skyler’s eyes rise to meet his, but he doesn’t say anything. They hold the awkward eye contact for a few seconds.
Trevor breaks first, shifting his gaze to his lap. Skyler’s stretched out his legs under the table so that they’re in between Trevor’s splayed open ones. He knows Skyler’s not doing it on purpose. He’s got long legs. But it’s almost like he’s unconsciously slotting the two of them together. Like before.
Except this is nothing like before.
Because Skyler’s right here, and even though Trevor’s fingertips still remember the feeling of tracing along those sharp cheekbones… He can’t touch him. He lost that privilege a long time ago.
Skyler’s knee nudges his thigh—by accident, certainly—when he says, “I was sorry to hear about you and Sierra.”
“No you weren’t.”
Skyler falters. “Well. I mean, I won’t lie and say that was all I felt. It’s complicated, obviously. But you should know that, even after everything that went down with us, I…”
“What?”
You what?
“I still wanted you to be happy.”
Those words hit Trevor like a brick.
Because he still wanted Skyler to be happy too. He stilldoes. But it’s such a Skyler thing to just come out and say it so openly right now while Trevor’s struggling to keep all his cards hidden. And that includes the ones tattooed on his chest.
He has to say something.
I’ll always want you to be happy, even if I wish more than anything that you could have stayed happy with me.
No. Not that.
“It, um. It was hard because”—he rubs at the back of his head—“I did love her. In a way. But I was never trulyinlove with her. You know?”
Why did he say that last part? Of course Skyler knows. He must.
