by Nia Arthurs
Melissa’s eyes darted to the mattress, and she wiped her mouth. “It’s not what it looks like?”
Her words drew his attention to the bed, and Trenton nearly lost it when he saw who was snoring inside the bundle of sheets.
“What is he doing up here?”
“I can explain,” Melissa said, holding her arms out. “I was dressing his wounds, you know, being all romantic and stuff. Then he complained of a headache. So I went to your cabinet and I got him a pain pill, but as soon as he drank it—”
“He passed out,” Breana finished quietly.
“How did you know?” Melissa asked, a hint of wonder in her tone.
“What strength was it?”
“Eight hundred, I think.”
Breana nodded.
“Am I missing something?” Trenton asked, annoyed by the presence of his nemesis—in his wife’s bed no less!
“Denzel had a major injury in junior college that almost caused him to lose his basketball scholarship. He chose to take strong pain medication to keep playing, so whenever he takes the meds on top of a regular pain killer, he passes out.”
“I had no idea!” Melissa gazed in terror at the man on the bed. “Your friends helped me get him up here while you were in the bathroom—” she pointed at Trenton—“and then I put my head on his chest to make sure he was still breathing. That’s when Breana busted in.”
“You were checking his breathing… in the dark?” Breana asked, her arms over her chest and her eyebrow quirked.
“Don’t judge me.”
“He has to go,” Trenton said firmly. He was finished with the conversation. No matter what the man had been through, the past was the past, and in the present Trenton wanted to kick Denzel to the curb.
Breana stepped forward and jutted her hand out to prevent him from taking another step. “You can’t. He’s completely out of it.”
“Shouldn’t we call the hospital or something?” Melissa wrung her hands.
“That’s a good idea.” Breana fished her phone from her pocket. “I’ll call an ambulance.”
“Forget it,” he said grudgingly.
“What are you talking about? If we don’t seek medical attention immediately, he could die.”
As tempting as it was to see such an outcome, Trenton released his dislike for the man and fell back on his humanity.
“Just… wait a minute. Okay?” Grabbing his cell phone, he walked to the corner and made a call.
“Who is he calling?” he heard Melissa mutter.
“Hello?” The line picked up.
“Doctor Stevens, I have an emergency over here.”
“Give me the stats. I’m on my way.”
Trenton explained Denzel’s condition and in ten minutes flat, Doctor Stevens was ringing his doorbell.
“That was quick,” Breana said as they got up to open the door.
“Doctor Stevens was the practitioner in charge of my mother’s care until she had to be admitted to the hospital. He’s the best home physician that I know.”
“That’s high praise, Trenton,” Mr. Stevens said. He was a short, balding man with a round stomach. Cheerful, frank eyes hid behind his circular glasses. “Now, where is the patient?”
“He’s upstairs,” Breana said. “Come on, I’ll show you.”
Trenton steamed as he realized he was paying for Denzel’s care and allowing his wife to traipse in and out of the room to tend to him. He really was a saint.
Faking concern for Denzel’s well being was impossible so, despite his near angelic status, Trenton chose to remain in the living room while Doctor Stevens examined the patient.
At last he heard footsteps thumping down the stairs and glanced up to find Breana, Melissa, and Doctor Stevens coming toward him.
“He’ll be fine,” Doctor Stevens said. “But I’m glad that you called me. It could have been dangerous otherwise.”
“Thank you so much for your help.” Breana held the doctor’s hand and shook it heartily. “We would have been so scared without you.”
“So, is he free to leave?” Trenton asked.
Breana looked sheepishly up at him. “ I thought he could stay the night.”
“What?” Trenton thundered.
Doctor Stevens’ gaze bounced between Trenton and his wife. “I wanted to offer my congratulations on your marriage, Trenton, but I can tell that this is an awkward time to do it. You folks have a good night and call me if there are any complications.”
“Yes, sir.” Melissa saluted and walked the doctor to the door.
Breana turned to Trenton and pushed out her bottom lip, but he steeled himself against her charm and shook his head.
“Absolutely not.”
“He’s unconscious and defenseless. How can we drag him out of bed right now?”
“Easily,” Trenton said, striding for the stairs. “Here, I’ll show you.”
“Trenton,” Breana grabbed his arm and tugged him back, “it will mean so much to me.”
“He’s your ex, and you want me to be moved by that?”
Breana groaned. “Why do you have to be such a guy?”
“I don’t know, Bree? Maybe because I am one?”
“What if I stay over and take care of him?” Melissa interjected. The couple whipped their heads around as if noticing her for the first time.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, I can be by his side, making sure he’s still breathing through the night.” Melissa clasped her hands. “Imagine how romantic it will be when he wakes up and the first thing he sees is my face.”
Trenton glanced at Breana and grimaced. His wife shrugged in response, her thoughts clear as day: I don’t get it either.
“What’s the catch?” Trenton asked with a chin-up gesture.
“No catch. I have an excuse to spend the night with a handsome guy?” Melissa swooned. “Sign me up!”
“Spend the night?” Trenton mouthed and then he froze. If Melissa stayed the night, he and Breana would have to maintain the appearance of their marriage.
That meant…
Breana would sleep in his room.
His energy instantly replenished, and his good mood returned ten-fold. Trenton let out a booming laughter that caused Breana to jump and stare at him as if he’d gone crazy.
He ignored her expression and ushered Melissa out the door. “You’re more than welcome here, Mel. Can I call you ‘Mel’? Mel, why don’t you rush back home to get the things you need and then come back and take care of Denzel? Hurry. Bye now!”
He closed the door behind her with a satisfied grin. This night had just taken a magnificent turn.
“Did… the real Trenton just get abducted by aliens?” Breana asked, her jaw threatening to sweep the floor. Trenton danced to her side and draped his arm over her shoulder.
“You have an overactive imagination.” He chuckled and peered out the window. “How long do you think it will take for Melissa to come back?”
Breana shrugged his hold and folded her arms over her chest. Staring suspiciously at him, she pursed her lips. “What are you thinking?”
“Me?”
“Yes, you. That grin on your face reminds me of that time the stray cat on our street ate my neighbor’s bird and thought he got away with it.”
“That’s actually a funny story—”
“What are you up to?”
“Why would I be up to anything? I’m just glad your ex-boyfriend isn’t dying upstairs.”
“Really?”
“Yup.”
“You’re suddenly concerned about Denzel? After you punched each other like school kids tonight?”
“A man can change, can’t he?” Trenton asked, putting his hand against his chest and looking serenely toward the heavens.
“I smell something fishy.” She wrinkled her nose, the move an adorable display of wariness.
Choosing to overlook her mistrust, Trenton eagerly encouraged her to get ready for bed. His excitement for the night doub
led as she caved and walked upstairs to the bedroom they would share.
The woman was heartbreakingly beautiful, and he’d been on his best behavior the entire week. After his countless efforts, he would finally get to lie down with his wife.
Trenton wasn’t too deluded to think that he would get to any kind of base with Breana while they were in the bed, but at least it was a step in the right direction. And that tiny step felt like a major victory.
Chapter 15
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Breana washed her face and stared at her reflection in the mirror. Water dripped from her forehead and cheeks, flowing like teardrops to the sink. Her eyebrows were furrowed and the tiny dimple in her jaw flashed proudly as she bit on her lower lip.
Trenton had done a complete one-eighty tonight. He couldn’t possibly be that excited about sleeping in the same room together, could he?
Breana more than understood the role she had to play thanks to Melissa and Denzel’s surprise stay. There was no way she could sleep in any other place while spying eyes hovered around them.
That didn’t mean she’d be sharing a bed with her husband, a fact that Trenton—obviously—hadn’t been aware of.
“What are these for?” he asked as he looked at the sheets she’d tossed into his arms.
“For your bed.”
“My bed?” He made a face. “My bed’s up there.”
“Not anymore,” Breana said as she sat on the edge of the mattress and tied the satin scarf around her head.
“Breana,” Trenton came over to her, “you can’t be serious.”
“Do I look like I’m joking?” She stared him straight in the face and saw when the flicker of disappointment coated his expression.
“But I thought—”
“What? That we’d be sleeping in the same bed?”
“Well—”
“Come here.” She raised her arms to press his shoulders down and planted a kiss on his cheek. “There you go. Good night.”
Muttering all the way, Trenton stretched his comforter on the floor and made his bed. Breana snorted when she heard him rustling around in the sheets trying to get to a comfortable position.
“I can hear everything you’re saying under your breath, you know.”
“Good,” he said. “That’s the point.”
Breana grinned. “Should I take off the light now?”
“Sure,” Trenton said gruffly.
Enjoying his silent tantrum and feeling slightly wicked for instigating it, Breana reached over and tapped the lamp on the nightstand. The room was thrust into darkness and she curled on her side, melting into the soft mattress.
Two things kept her from falling asleep. The first was Trenton. As the throaty call of toads and crickets serenaded them outside, she imagined his discomfort and waffled between inviting him up or suggesting that they trade places.
The second was… also Trenton. The man continued to twist and turn on the floor as if he were a butterfly struggling out of its cocoon. The sound of his muffled grunts and the rustle of the cloth cast all thoughts of sleep out the window.
Breana wasn’t the only one struggling with their sleeping arrangements. In a sudden burst of adrenaline, Trenton slapped his hands against the ground and shot up. Breana blinked, staring at his form in the darkness.
“What is it?”
“I can’t sleep like this.”
“Why not?”
“The ground is too hard.”
“Trenton—”
He ignored her, gathered up the comforters and dumped them on the bed.
“What are you doing?” she asked, clutching the sheets to her chest.
Trenton climbed in and fluffed his pillow before lying down. “If you’re uncomfortable, we can put up a boundary or something.”
Breana shook her head and clutched her pillow. “Then I’ll sleep on the ground.”
Before her feet touched the wooden floor, Trenton grabbed her wrist. “Where do you think you’re going?”
“Trenton, we can’t sleep in the same bed.”
“Why not?” He groaned. “We’re married.”
“You know it’s not real.”
“For the love of—” He tugged her wrist so that she tumbled into his chest.
“Trenton!”
He responded by wrapping his arms and legs around her. The limbs were like bands of steel and the more Breana squirmed, the more tightly he held her to him.
“I’ve been respectful and conscientious all week. All I’m asking for is one night.”
Breana paused—breathing hard—and looked into his face. “One night to do what?”
“Don’t look at me like I’m going to eat you alive, Bree.” He shifted and pressed her head down so that it rested in the hollow between his neck and his shoulder. “All I need is one night to hold you.” He sighed. “Then I think I’ll be okay.”
Beginning to relax, Breana whispered. “How do I know I can trust you to stop at holding me?”
“If I try something, you have all permission to kick me where it hurts.”
She arched up. “Don’t think I won’t.”
He grunted and tapped his chest. Breana returned her head where it belonged and listened to the steady beat of his heart. Trenton was warm. Solid. Steady. She liked that about him. She liked him.
The realization, though sudden, was not surprising. From their first day in the closet, she knew that it wouldn’t take much for him to sweep her off her feet. The fear of being carried away in a tide that could never be hers had kept her grounded, but now?
Now she had nothing to hold on to.
“Bree?”
“Hm?”
“Are you sleeping?”
She shifted and wrapped her arms around him to get more comfortable. “No.”
“Can I ask you a question?”
“What?” she croaked.
Trenton’s fingers tugged at the ends of her bonnet. “What is this thing on your head?’
Breana snickered. She’d been expecting a question that was deep and meaningful. Perhaps she’d misread the moment.
“It’s a hair scarf.”
“I’m assuming it has something to do with your hair?”
“Yes. My hair gets frizzy very easily so it’s important for me to wear something that will protect the natural oils in my curls and keep them frizz-free.”
Trenton shifted closer to her. “I like your frizz.”
“What you see during the day isn’t frizz. Trust me. If you saw my actual frizz, you wouldn’t be so chill.”
“Try me.”
“Maybe I will someday.”
Trenton made a sound deep in his chest. Breana could only class it as a rumble of contentment. He was like a big, old, bull-headed bear that had finally gotten to hug the honey jar.
The night wore on and sleep tiptoed into the room—at least for one half of the Mr. and Mrs. Lorde couple.
As much as Breana loved being in Trenton’s arms, they lived in a tropical country where the heat cared very little if it was night or day. Breana glanced up, noting that all the windows were closed.
Trenton was already half-asleep, but she doubted he suffered from the same problem. He wore only a thin cotton vest and boxers, while Breana was encased in a blanket and wore long pajama bottoms. It was sweltering!
“Trenton.” She swatted at his arm to try and slip away so she could put on the air conditioning.
Trenton grunted and reprimanded her by nearly pulling Breana on top of him. She sighed in frustration and pushed against his muscled biceps to escape his grip.
“Trenton, I need to put on the AC, or the fan or something. I’m sweating like a pig here.”
“No,” he muttered, in the hazy in-between of consciousness and sleep.
Breana knew she’d get no rest tonight if he continued to have his way, but—realizing that she could never win over him when it came to brute strength—she decided to get more… creative.
Taking a deep breath,
she pushed her body up and kissed his lips. Trenton’s arms tightened around her so that her lungs nearly ran out of air. She pressed her mouth harder against his, slightly faltering when—in his sleep—he kissed her back.
“Wake up, you big lug,” she murmured before diving right back into the embrace.
This time, Breana was completely unprepared for Trenton’s reaction. His strong hands moved up her back, his mouth claiming hers eagerly. His caresses grew more and more urgent as Breana mindlessly returned his passion.
They were kissing and caressing and inhaling the life from each other. She temporarily lost all reason before the random reminder that she’d started this touching frenzy in order to cool down blasted through her brain.
No air conditioner in the world would be able to do the job now.
Trenton pulled back with a groan when her lips failed to respond to him, and he rolled off her. Breana took in a big gulp of air and felt something tickle her nose. It was then that she realized her scarf had been dragged off in their tussle.
Her hair stuck up crazily and she rushed to smooth it down. The move gave her something to do while they both got a handle on their bearings.
“I-I’m sorry,” Breana said, knowing enough about a man’s psyche to tell that she’d teased Trenton a bit too much.
“It’s okay,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck.
He didn’t turn to look at her, and for some reason, that caused tears to prick the back of her eyes. It was her own fault for starting things she couldn’t finish, but his refusal to even glance her way felt like a rejection.
“Trenton—”
“I’ll sleep in my office,” he said, before pushing up and stalking out of the room.
Chapter 16
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Trenton spent the next hour doing sit-ups, pushups, and any other exercises he could while reciting every single Bible verse he’d ever learned in his entire life. It did little too cool the flames blazing in his middle, and he eventually gave up.
Plopping on the floor in the middle of his office, he ran his hands through his hair and reminded himself to breathe properly. He was frustrated and bothered, the swirl of emotions stemming from a mixture of desire for Breana and annoyance at her hesitation.