Page 92 of Point of Contact

“And he didn’t suffer. I promise.” Jesse continued to stroke Trevor’s back, his neck. He ran his fingers through his hair, trying to soothe, reveling in the freedom of touching him freely.

“I’m sorry,” Trevor whispered, finally looking over at Jesse.

“Sorry for what? You don’t have anything to be sorry for.”

“I think I hurt you this morning. By not being there when you woke up.”

Deciding honesty was the best policy, Jesse nodded. “A little. I should’ve known it wasn’t about me.”

“But this morning should have been about you,” Trevor said gently. “Because last night meant something to me. You waking up alone must’ve made you think it didn’t. I’m sorry, Jesse.”

Jesse’s throat was too full to speak, so all he did was nod.

Trevor studied him. “I saw the look on your face just now when I mentioned moving to Virginia.”

Jesse bit his lip, striving for an even tone, his chest tight. “Well, uh, of course that’s something you’d want to do, be closer to him.”

“Lately I’ve been picturing myself living there, visiting his grave, getting to know the other Gold Star families. Getting involved.” Trevor sifted through the sand at his feet absently. “Know what I mean?”

“Yeah. I can picture it, too.” Don’t be selfish, Jess.

“The thing is, that picture’s changed a bit, though.”

“How?”

“Because you’re in it now.”

Jesse caught his breath, his heart starting to pound. “Well, that makes me happy,” he said softly. “How does it make you feel?”

“It scares the shit out of me,” Trevor admitted. “Not because of you, but because this is the first time since Riley died that I’m even considering putting myself ahead of—ahead of—it feels disloyal.”

Jesse rested his hand on Trevor’s upraised knee, waiting him out.

“Yes, I know he’d want me to be happy, and go on with my life.” Trevor’s voice was tight, his eyes dry. “I know that. I felt it.”

Jesse listened as Trevor told him about sensing Riley’s presence at the luau, about the feeling of warmth and approval that flooded him as he’d watched Jesse up onstage. The thought of that made tears rush to his eyes.

“I can spout all these grand statements about living my life to honor his,” Trevor said hoarsely, “but when it comes down to actually doing it, I’m right back where I started.”

“You’re not, though.” Jesse rubbed his leg. “If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that grief is a journey, except there’s no point A to point B. It’s a fucking twisty-turny, up-and-down, forward-and-back piece of shit. It’s one good day...hell, maybe it’s only a few good hours...in the midst of a shit-ton of bad ones. But you don’t give up, and you keep going.”

“You steer into the skid.” Trevor linked their fingers together. “That’s what this feels like sometimes, an uncontrollable skid. I want to fight it, to slam on the brakes.” He sighed, some of his tension visibly easing. “But when I let myself face it, and steer into it, I—”

“Then you keep doing that, and trusting it.” Jesse stroked his thumb over the back of Trevor’s hand. “One day at a time. What else can you do? I’m here for you, and I’ll support whatever decision you make.” No matter how much it hurts.

Trevor raised their joined hands to his mouth and pressed a kiss to the back of Jesse’s. “You’re really good for me, you know that?”

“Hmph.” Jesse was pleased, but he didn’t know how true that was, all things considered.

“You are.” Trevor tugged Jesse closer until their lips were only a breath apart. “For the first time since Riley died, I feel like there’s some hope for me.” His voice was soft. “Hope that maybe someday I can find some peace. Happiness...that’s a tall order. But peace? I’ll take it.” He brushed their mouths together gently. “So thank you, Jess, for being you. Thank you for everything.”

He cupped the back of Jesse’s neck, pulling him into a hot, slow, deep kiss. When he finally eased away, Jesse swallowed hard, rasping, “So what now? Are we just a vacation thing or—” He held his breath.

“For your sake, it probably should be.” Trevor sighed. “But I’m selfish enough to say no, I want more. Well, I want to try,” he amended. “You know I can’t give you any guarantees.”

“I’m not asking for any.” Jesse brushed the backs of his fingers along Trevor’s cheek. “The fact you even want to try, well—” His heart was so full, he couldn’t go on.

“I do.” Trevor took a deep breath. “And now, for our last day, I want to make at least one memory here with you that doesn’t have anything to do with Riley, something that’s just our own. Any ideas?”