Page 59 of Unleashed

Trevor

It takes me a minute to notice I’m smiling. Even when I do, it’s impossible to smother the expression out. I know Trevor making plans like this is yet another example of his overstepping tendencies, but not having to be the one who does everything is so nice, I don’t freaking care.

Getting up from the sofa, I follow the same path I did last night, holding my breath as I look through the slats of the blinds hanging on the window. My eyes immediately land on Trevor’s car, and instead of being bothered by the way he’s invading my life, I breathe a little easier knowing he’s there.

I don’t quite understand what’s motivating him to spend his nights uncomfortably angled in a car seat instead of sleeping in what I’m sure is the world’s most expensive and luxurious bed. Honestly, sounds pretty fucking dumb to me. But what do I know? I’ve never actually slept in the world’s most expensive or luxurious bed. It might suck.

I doubt it though.

I resume my place on the sofa, watching another episode of my show before deciding it’s bedtime. Another look out the window confirms Trevor is still right where I left him. Then I brush my teeth and climb under the covers of my non-luxurious, inexpensive, queen-size bed.

I bet it’s still more comfortable than the front seat of Trevor’s car.

Rolling to one side, I fluff my pillow and close my eyes, prepared to fall asleep exactly like I did last night. Trevor’s out there. I’m safe. Someone is watching out so I don’t have to be ready to deal with anything bad that could happen.

But Trevor’s out there. Trying to sleep in a suit in the front seat of his car.

I flail around a little, flipping to my other side, trying to find a position that will be so comfortable I pass out.

There’s no way to get comfortable sleeping in a car. I know. I’ve done it. Many, many times. One of the best days of my life was the day I got a place of my own and had a bed without bugs to sleep in instead of the lumpy seat of my car.

“Fucking hell.”

I fling back the covers, grabbing one of my pillows and a blanket before shoving my feet into the closest pair of shoes and stomping my way out the front door. The day was warm, so now that the temperature has dropped, there’s dew on the grass, and it soaks into my ankles as I storm to where Trevor’s parked. He’s already lowering the window as I approach, but I don’t say a word. I just cram the pillow and blanket through the opening before turning to march back into my house.

Once inside, I kick off my shoes and peel away the damp socks before climbing back into bed. Blowing out a sigh, I wiggle around as I cuddle into the comfort of my mattress, expecting now I’ll be able to crash.

But the seconds drag on, turning into minutes. Then the minutes start to collect, racking up as I remember how little of a difference a pillow and blanket genuinely made when I was a teenager. Sure, they took the edge off the discomfort, but it was the equivalent of putting lipstick on a pig. The pig gets cuter, but at the end of the day it still stinks.

“Such a fucking pain in my ass.” I rip the covers off my body again, cramming my bare feet into the shoes I discarded, before yet again making my way outside.

It hasn’t been a dramatically long time since I was out here, but the temperature has dropped pretty significantly. By the time I make it to Trevor’s car, I’m hugging my middle and shivering. When his window doesn’t immediately lower like last time, I bang on it.

The dark tinted glass opens to reveal a rumpled looking Trevor Bradshaw. Most men would look messy and unkempt, but not him. He still looks just as handsome as always. The five o’clock shadow peppering his jaw adds a ruggedness he doesn’t normally possess, and the loose waves of his hair make me want to run my fingers through the strands to see what they feel like when they’re not plastered into place by hair gel.

His dark brows pinch together, a look of concern tightening his features. “What’s wrong?”

Shit. I was so busy noticing how unfortunately sexy he looks, I forgot to yell at him for ruining my night.

“You’re what’s wrong.” The damp chill in the air makes a shiver rack my body, sending goosebumps racing across my skin and pulling my nipples so tight they hurt. “If you’re going to be a pain in the ass and refuse to go home, then I guess I have to let you sleep on my couch. Otherwise I’ll be up all night.”

Trevor angles a brow. “Why would you be up all night?”

Is that what I said? I didn’t mean to say that. Definitely not out loud.

“Just shut up and come on.” I step back, making room for him to open the door. “Or don’t. I don’t really care.”

“Obviously you do care, otherwise you would be asleep.” Trevor closes the window as he opens the door. “And if it will make you feel better, I suppose I can sleep on your sofa.”

I scoff. “Make me feel better?” I try to shrug, but my shoulders just wiggle around weirdly. “I don’t care where you sleep. You can pass out on the grass if that’s what you really want to do.”

Trevor’s playful expression suddenly morphs into something much more serious. He slings the blanket I brought him earlier over my head, draping it across my back before using the fabric to reel me closer. He pulls me in so quickly, I can’t stop my feet, and end up with my front pressed to his. Leaning down, he teases the tip of my nose with his. “If you don’t care where I sleep, then I’d like to put in a request.”

“You’re not sleeping in my bed.” I mean to say it aggressively, but the words don’t really carry the bite I intend.

Trevor’s lips pull into a sinful smile. “I’m sure I could come up with a few ideas if you want to stay awake.”

I swallow hard, because is that what I want? A line I want to cross?