Trevor lifts Skyler’s feet off his lap so he can scoot closer, and then lets them fall so that it’s now the backs of Skyler’s thighs resting on the tops of his. He sweeps a strand of Skyler’s curly hair behind his ear as he adds softly, “It had to end sometime.”
That’s probably true. But still, Skyler would give anything to have had more time being in the band with Trevor. For Trevor to have had more time doing something he loved.
Boys Will Be Boys hadn’t been exactly what Trevor wanted in the beginning. But he worked so hard to ensure the band was a success, and to turn it into something that better represented each of them, rather than just being a manufactured group churning out only what the label thought people wanted to hear. Trevor played such a huge role in making the band what it was.
And he didn’t deserve to have all that taken from him because of Skyler’s drunken idiocy.
Even if it was more complicated than that one disastrous Grammy performance, even if the band would have eventually fallen apart in some other way—Trevor deserved better from him.
He wonders if there’s any chance, any way he could help Trevor fall in love with music again. Fall in love with writing it and performing it and sharing it with the world. Hopefully, there is.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Now
TREVOR
Trevor’s in the laundrynook, folding clothes as Skyler takes them out of the dryer, when his phone starts blowing up with texts. Skyler takes over folding while he checks it to see that Courtney’s sent him a bunch of links. Remembering the last time this happened, he braces himself for something awful.
It’s notthatbad, but it’s concerning. Pictures of both him and Skyler separately in the city, and articles on how fans are speculating about what it means that they’re in the same place at the same time.
There’s a sneaky (and unflattering) picture of him picking up bagels, which he’s done quite a few times. A picture of Skyler at the bodega on the corner buying two pints of pistachio ice cream. But probably the most incriminating photo is the one of Trevor walking Stella, because it suggests he’s here for more than a quick trip.
God, hopefully no one’s gotten a picture of Skyler with Stella. If the shippers saw that, it’d be too much proof for them and they’d never stop digging after. Trevor will have to be the only one to take Stella outside from now on.
With a groan, he slides his phone back into his pocket. “Why can’t they just leave us alone?”
Skyler gives him a questioning look as he passes him a sweater. Trevor folds it, explaining what Courtney sent him. Before Skyler can respond, Trevor’s phone rings.
“Answer it,” Skyler tells him.
“I don’t want to,” he whines like a child as he pulls the phone back out and stares at Courtney’s name on the screen.
Skyler rolls his eyes and taps to accept the call for him before raising Trevor’s arm up, making him hold the phone to his ear.
“Trevor, what do you think you’re doing?” his publicist asks right away.
“Uh…”
“Is it true? Are you in New York with Skyler?”
He cradles the phone with his shoulder so he can keep folding. “I had to get out of L.A. because of the fire.”
“The fire went out weeks ago,” she says.
“You’re not in charge of my whereabouts, you know.”
Courtney sighs like he’s being difficult—which, fair. “No, but I am in charge of your public image, so it’d make my job easier if you kept me in the loop with what you’re doing.”
“I’m staying with Skyler,” he tells her.
“And?”
Skyler nudges him in the side and gestures to the pile of clothes he’s fallen behind on folding. He goes to grab a shirt, but Skyler takes it from him and then shoos him away with a wave of his hand.
He walks with his phone into the bedroom. “And what?”
“Are you back together?”
