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I don’t think Jude will be a dick.
And I hope this isn’t a one-time thing.
Trevor collapses on top of me, and the grunt he makes isn’t normal.
“Oh my god, your shoulder,” I gasp.
“Shh.” He presses a kiss to my neck, then freezes. “Meg? Are you—are youcrying?”
“No.”
He shifts so he’s putting his weight on his good arm and peers down at me. “Meg—”
“You like me,” I whisper.
His gaze is utter seriousness as he studies me. “I do.”
“Not very many people like me enough to risk—well—”
I don’t finish.
I can’t.
Because he’s pressing soft kisses to my lips and swiping away my tears with his thumb. “You’ve been hanging out with the wrong people.”
He’s not wrong.
My last jobs were terrible fits.
I’ve been happier here working for the Bergers, evenwiththe awkward tension between Trevor and me until this morning, than I ever was in preschool settings.
I canbreathehere.
And more—I feel loved here.
Soloved.
And it’s not just my job.
It’s Trevor giving me a place to live so I could start right away. It’s him being honest with me about how much he hates the holidays, and why, and yet still going along with celebrating them anyway.
It’s him being willing to risk a solid friendship with my brother to tell me how much he likes me, and to hold me and kiss me andloveme.
I’m not ready for those words.
I don’t think he is either.
But I wouldn’t be lying here with him still buried deep inside me while he kisses my tears and my fears away if I didn’t think that’s where this is going.
I tilt my head to his and run my fingers through his hair. “I haven’t showered yet this morning, and I think we might both have holiday glitter all over,” I whisper.
He studies me for a long moment again before a soft smile makes his eyes crinkle in the corners. “Pretty sure I can help you with that.”
“Before or after cinnamon rolls?”
“Both.”
TREVOR
