Used

by Kate Dunbar

  “Okay, that’s good. She would have been mad at you for answering the phone during your sexy time.”

  Trevor bursts out laughing. “Probably. And second, it sounds like you had more than one glass of wine, Say. Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine.” I lift my arms above my head to stretch before putting the phone back to my ear. “I truly did only have one glass of wine, but I had two brownies. They were delicious. They made me feel so relaxed. I haven’t felt this good in ages.”

  “I see,” he replies, amused. “You ate some brownies, huh? Was there anything special about these brownies?”

  “Yes?” I whisper. “They’re not illegal anymore, but shhhh, don’t tell anyone.”

  “Don’t worry. Your secret’s safe with me.” He hesitates. “You’re safe with me, Sabra.”

  I take a quick breath and squeeze my eyes shut. He always says the best things. He always makes me feel safe. Trevor is always protecting me and coming to my aid. “You’re my knight in shining armor.”

  He doesn’t even try to hold back his laughter anymore. “What? Now I’m your knight?”

  “Yes, in shining armor.” I nod my head and grab at my phone as it slips out of my hand. “You. You’re my knight. No one else’s. Not even the girl you took on a date tonight.”

  “Sabra, I told you, I didn’t—”

  I keep talking over him and don’t listen to what he wants to tell me. My mouth won’t stop moving. “I love you, Trevor. No matter what. I’m sorry I’m used and broken and messed up. But I love you. I always will.”

  The silence lingers on the other end. I think I can hear him breathing, but I’m so tired, and my eyes won’t stay open any longer. “Good night, Trevor. It was lovely to hear your voice again. Rest well.”

  “Sabra, wait.” There’s a desperation in his voice that makes me open my eyes for a second.

  “What? I’m so tired, Trevor. Can we finish talking in the morning please?” I yawn into the phone again. “Thank you for calling me.”

  “Sabra, I didn’t … You know what? Never mind.” He sighs into the phone. “Good night, Say. Have sweet dreams.”

  “You too.” I drop my phone onto the covers next to me and turn to my side, sink deeper into my pillows and blankets, and let the darkness engulf me.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  “Rise and shine, sleepyhead,” a shrill voice sings out, and my body jumps up and down like I’m sleeping in a freaking bounce house. My head pounds as if someone is slamming me with a hammer. On repeat.

  “What? What are you doing? And why are my blinds open?” I squint and try to look around the room. Micah stands over me with a pillow in her hands on my bed, grinning like a maniac. “Are you about to kill me? I’d let you right now. Put me out of my misery.”

  “Oh, no.” She laughs. “You have to get up and face this day. No way am I letting you miss class and all this day has to offer you.”

  “What are you talking about? Go back to bed,” I mutter and snuggle back under my covers. “I’ll do class tomorrow. Today’s not good for me.”

  Cold air hits my warm skin when Micah rips the blankets off my body and a pillow lands on my face, all while continuing to laugh like a whack-a-doodle. “Oh, I think today is going to be a superb day for you. You’re not going to want to miss this.” She leans over and smacks my bare leg. “Come on, girl. Up and at ’em.”

  I straighten out my tank top and prop myself on my elbows, giving her my best death glare. “What in the hell are you talking about?”

  Micah has my phone in her hand and waves it in my face. “I’m talking about this.”

  I’ve got nothing, so I stare at her.

  “What? Are you telling me you don’t remember your extra-special phone call last night? The one you made right before you went to bed, it seems?” She plops down next to me and sits cross-legged.

  “I didn’t make any phone calls.” But my voice trails off as flashes of me on the phone lying in my bed run through my mind. “Oh no.”

  Micah grins at me like the Cheshire cat. “Oh, yes.”

  “No. I went to sleep. I couldn’t have.”

  “You did. And he’s already texted you this morning.” She smiles wickedly. “I hope you don’t mind, but I might have peeked.”

  “You what?” I sit straight up in bed wide awake now. “How did you get my password?”

  “Oh please, don’t act like you have some super-secret password on your phone, Sabra. Your birthday? Seriously? You do know the FBI or CIA are never going to hire you, right?” She rolls her eyes and hands my phone to me. “Do you want to know what he said?”

  “I think I can read it for myself, thanks,” I grumble at her.

  “I’m sure you can, but it would be so much more fun for me to tell you.” She drops backward on the bed and turns her head to face me. Her hair looks perfect already, and her eyes are sparkling.

  I hate her.

  “Why are you so bright-eyed and bushy-tailed this morning? You made as many stupid mistakes as I did last night.” I drop the phone on my pillow, throw my legs over the bed, and stomp to my bathroom to pee.

  “No way. You totally made more mistakes than I did. Your call history proves it. You called him at 1:14, Sabra. I wonder what he’s thinking this morning,” she yells through the door. “Oh, wait. I know what he’s thinking this morning because I’ve already done my morning reading on your phone.” She’s hysterical.

  I pull the bathroom door open with way more force than necessary, planning to march to my closet and get dressed for class. But I stop short because Micah is standing in my way, holding my phone out to me.

  “Don’t you want to know?”

  “No. I don’t.” I shift around her to slide my closet doors open and stare at my clothes. “I’m sure I made a fool out of myself on the phone with him.” I yank my favorite pair of jeans off the hanger and step into them. “And it’s your fault. And those stupid brownies, which you brought over here, so it’s all your fault.”

  “You don’t remember your conversation?” She sits on the edge of my bed.

  “Vaguely. I remember talking to him. And the sound of his voice.” It was so good to hear his voice again. “But that’s about it. I don’t recall what we talked about.”

  “It couldn’t have been all bad,” she says.

  I glance at her while I button the top of my jeans and grab a mocha-colored cashmere sweater off another hanger. “Why do you say that?” The sweater glides over my head, muffling my words before it pops out of the neck hole.

  “Because he wants to see you.”

  “What?” I lunge for her hand holding out my phone to me once again. “He said that?”

  “Yes. He asked what you had planned for today, so I assume that means he wants to see you.” She nods at me with a smirk on her face. “I guess he could just be asking.”

  I slide my finger across the screen and tap the messages icon, watching his name pop up as I sit next to Micah. To tap or not to tap, that is the question.

  “Read it,” she demands and nudges me in the side with her elbow.

  I bite my lip and tap on Trevor’s name.

  TREVOR: Hey Sabra, it was great talking to you last night. What do you have going on today?

  “How do I respond to that?” I ask, tossing my phone next to me. “What am I supposed to say?”

  Micah looks at me like I’m nuts. “You could answer his question.”

  I roll my eyes at her. “Yes, but then what?”

  “Wait for him to reply?” She stands and walks to the door. “Don’t overthink this, Sabra. You called him last night for a reason. Reply and see what happens,” she calls over her shoulder. “I’m going to get dressed. You have class in forty minutes, and I have my first dance class to teach. We need to hurry.”

  “Micah,” I holler down the hall after her. She turns around, and I watch her eyes widen before a smile breaks out across her face.

  “It will be fine. It’s Trevor. You know him, and you li
ke him. A lot.” She laughs at me and waves her hands in a shooing motion. “Finish getting dressed for class and answer his question.” She walks away and turns into the living room where I can’t see her anymore.

  Answer his question. I can do that. One quick sentence. That’s it. I pick my phone back up and tap out a quick message to him.

  SABRA: Hey, I have class this morning and work tonight.

  I hit send and throw my phone back on the bed like it’s going to scorch me before running into my bathroom to do my hair and makeup. I refuse to sit there and wait to see if he replies like a starry-eyed schoolgirl. Even if I am technically still in school. I’m twenty-four and getting my master’s. I’m a school woman, dammit.

  “Are you ready to go?”

  I jump and brace myself against the counter. Micah stands propped against the door watching me. She looks amazing, of course. Nothing on her face even hints at drinking wine, eating marijuana brownies, and staying up way too late. I stare at the dark circles under my eyes that no amount of Bye Bye Undereye concealer is going to cover.

  Awesome.

  “Yes, let’s go before we’re both late.” I slip my favorite Toms on my feet.

  “Here.” She picks my phone up off the bed and hands it to me again.

  “Thanks.” I start to slip it into my back pocket.

  “He replied to you.” She leans toward me. “In case you were wondering.”

  I stand there like a statue while I watch Micah head to the apartment door and pick up her bag and purse. Taking a deep breath, I hold my phone in front of me and bring it back to life with a slip of my finger. Trevor’s message is blinding me.

  TREVOR: Awesome. Want to meet for coffee? 2pm at the Coffee Haus?

  He wants to see me.

  Micah yells down the hallway at me, ready to get to the dance studio. “Are you coming?”

  I wait a second before hitting the reply button and typing out one little word to him.

  SABRA: Yes.

  The line’s to the door when I push inside the Coffee Haus and look for Trevor. I haven’t been here for a while, so I forgot how crazy it is in the afternoon once the bulk of classes let out for the day. People lean against walls waiting for their lattes, frozen drinks, and teas to be made. I watch their eyes dart from table to table in hopes one will open by the time the barista calls their name.

  My own eyes land on a table filled with three young underclassmen girls. They’re hunched over in their seats whispering to each other and giggling. One of the girls, a pretty redhead with porcelain skin, looks over her shoulder with a wide grin before she turns back to her friends, and they dissolve in laughter again. I can’t help but look behind them to see what they’re gossiping about. My own grin threatens to split my face when I spot Trevor lounging in a leather armchair behind them.

  He’s slumped in the chair as if he owns the place, legs stretched out in front of him and head tilted back with his eyes closed. He still looks young enough to pass for an upperclassman at the college instead of the associate professor he is here. The smirk on his face tells me he’s awake and tuned into what’s happening in front of him. There’s an empty armchair with a worn leather briefcase in the seat next to his. A small round table between the two chairs holds two cups with steam rising out of them. I can’t blame the girls. Those jeans hug his legs in all the right places and the untucked button up with the sleeves rolled up to his forearms gives some serious arm porn.

  I watch the redhead get up and shuffle her way through the crowd toward him. He hasn’t seen me yet since his eyes are closed, so I hold myself back and watch with interest at what’s about to happen. Either this poor girl is going to get her heart broken or I am. I should find out if this is a mistake now.

  “Excuse me?” The beautiful porcelain doll girl nudges the knee of the leg outstretched in front of Trevor. “Do you mind if I take this seat?” Trevor’s head slowly lifts, and his eyes open into slits.

  “I’m sorry?”

  “This seat. I was hoping I could steal it from you?” She bats her eyelashes at him and waits for a beat before putting her hand on the strap of his bag so she can move it to sit.

  “Oh, sorry, that seat’s taken this afternoon. I’m waiting for someone who should be here any minute.” He puts his head back and closes his eyes again.

  The poor girl looks dejected and put out. She clearly did not get the reaction she was hoping for. “Are you sure? You’ve been here a while.” A bubble of laughter escapes her. “Maybe they stood you up.”

  “Martha,” her friends hiss at her, motioning for her to come back and join them. They see sweet, delusional Martha striking out. Other students close enough to hear are now gawking at the exchange. Trevor lifts his head again and stares at the girl who won’t take no for an answer.

  Martha waves them off with a shake of her head and decides to sit on the arm of the chair instead. “I’m sorry. That was rude. I can’t imagine a girl being stupid enough to stand up a guy as good looking as you are.”

  Trevor sits up straight in his seat and looks at her with wide eyes and a slightly open mouth. The poor guy is in shock.

  I start to walk over and put him out of his misery from having to deal with her when I hear Trevor say, “Martha, is it?” She nods and smiles at him with a sweet blush filling her cheeks. “Martha, I’m sorry, but you can’t take that seat. I’m waiting for someone important.” Trevor pops up when he sees me standing a couple of feet away, watching the exchange. “And here she is now. See? She didn’t stand me up.” He holds his hand out to me and winks.

  “No, I’d never do that to you, Professor Collins.” I squeeze his fingers in mine while looking pointedly at her. This girl needs to get off my chair.

  “Of course not. I’m sorry,” Martha stammers and slinks away, back to her table and friends.

  “It’s okay, Martha,” Trevor calls out. He turns to me and smiles. “I was here early to make sure I could snag two chairs. I didn’t want to give you any excuse not to stay.” He leans toward me and whispers in my ear, “I’ve missed you, Say.”

  I pull back a smidge and stare in his eyes, our fingers now intertwined. Goose bumps break out on my arms. I let go of his hand and move to sit but soften it with a smile as I slide back into the armchair. “I’ve missed you, too, Trevor.”

  He grins at me again with a twinkle in his eye and leans over me with his hands on the arms of the chair, caging me in and encroaching in my space. “Did you? Do you want to tell me how much?”

  “Not even a little.” I laugh at him, not wanting him to have the upper hand. “I think your head is big enough without me blowing more hot air into it, Professor.”

  Trevor takes a step back and slaps his knees with his hand while I throw my hand over my mouth, realizing what I said to him. He bends over at the waist, laughing and wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. “That’s what she said.” He looks at me with a mischievous smirk and whispers, “Those things can be arranged again, Sabra,”

  I smack his arm and spit out, “That’s not what I meant.” Burying my face in my hands, I groan. “I’m so embarrassed.”

  Trevor reaches over and pulls my hands off my face. “Don’t be embarrassed. We used to joke like this all the time. This is us, Sabra. We’re allowed to be us.” He picks one of the cups up off the table between us and hands it to me. “Earl Grey with one sugar packet, yes?”

  “You remember the tea I drink and how I like it?” I grasp the cup and lift it to my lips. The smell of Earl Grey tea alone makes me relax. “I don’t recall telling you that.”

  “I pay attention when it comes to you. I always have.” He sits back in his seat and takes a sip of his coffee while he looks pointedly at me over the rim. I know his coffee is black and, in my opinion, disgusting. But it’s all he ever drinks, and he likes it for some insane reason.

  “Thank you for the tea, Trevor.”

  He puts his cup back on the table and props his forearms on his knees, making his shirt stretch
across his back. I want to reach out and trace the lines of his muscles beneath the thin cotton fabric.

  “You’re welcome. Thanks for meeting me this afternoon.” His eyes don’t look away from mine. “Now …” He places his hand on my thigh and gives me a pat. “Tell me everything I’ve missed over the past couple of weeks. What’s going on with you these days?”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  It’s a simple question—one any friend you haven’t spoken to in weeks would ask—but I don’t know how to answer it. Instead, I sit there and stare at him, thinking back to when these same questions from him would have been so easy to answer.

  Oh, you know, classes, work, and auditions. Same ole, same ole.

  I went on a date last week with this guy from my psychology class. All he did was discuss his mother. Someone needs to analyze that.

  Micah is trying to talk me into going skydiving with her again. I’m not sure she’s getting the message that my answer is NO.

  “Sabra?” Trevor smirks at me. “You okay?”

  “What? Oh, yeah, I’m fine. Why do you ask?” I pick at nonexistent lint on my favorite jeans until I feel his warm hand reach over and still mine.

  “Because you seem nervous. And I don’t know why that would be.”

  I lift my head, getting lost in his eyes.

  “It’s just me, Say. Still your best friend.”

  My shoulders fall back as the heaviness weighing them down lifts, and I exhale audibly. “I know. But I’m not sure I know how to do this now. It was so easy, and we … I … whatever. It’s complicated now.”

  “It doesn’t have to be.” He lets go of my hand and sits back in his chair. One of his hands slides down his face and around to his neck before he looks at me seriously. “I’ve missed you. I’ve wanted to see you and talk to you. And now, we’re doing that.” He smiles and leans toward me again. “Nothing complicated about that, is there?”

  “No.” I shake my head at him. “It’s just—” My phone buzzes against my backside, and I slide it out of my back pocket, turning it over to see the name “Eleanor” flashing at me. “I’m sorry. It’s Eleanor.”