APRIL 6th

Eventually, after weeks and after several more not-another-one-night-stands with Trevor, I stop looking at my phone long enough to forget. I stop getting a flutter of excitement every time I have a noti (notification). I stop waiting for something to happen.

I couldn't unfollow him on the social scene. I didn't want him to know that it bothered me. Silly, I think. The whole crying-in-front-of-him-and-storming-out thing probably tipped him off that it bothered me, somewhat. But like I remind myself every morning, it's OK.

I'm OK.

Trevor makes it easier. Kind of full circle to be back with him after all this. Makes me wonder what would have happened if I had just missed my flight to Jersey all those months ago. If I had just slept in with Trevor and gone to brunch and fell for him then –before I fell for Brooks again.

But that's the conspiracy theory. The butterfly effect in full force. Everything that happened happened.

Trevor works in finance. He has a real job, almost a 9-5 if you can imagine that. He is 6 foot, with dark blonde hair and light hazel eyes. Trevor wears blazers and fancy men pea coats and almost always a button-down. He is commercial handsome, like catalogue model status.

He's everything that any other girl would be happy with.

"Hey babe." Trevor appears in the bathroom door, towel around his waist. Not quite a demi, but definitely beats an empty doorway.

"Babe." I smirk back at him.

Somehow this became our thing. Babe-ing each other. Of course there's our other thing: Meeting up at bars, sometimes going out together for dinner, but always ending up together at the end of the night. Booty calls.

It works for us both. And as I watch him move toward me in a towel, I am reminded it definitely works for me. If you know what I mean.

"Breakfast?" Trevor asks.

"Sure. Where?" I ask, moving to the foot of the bed. It's my turn to shower.

One thing we don't do together –one thing we'll never do together is shower.

"Oh, how about that place with the yellow umbrellas? Down on 2nd? You said you wanted to try it when we passed it last week." Trevor suggests, moving over to the edge of the bed.

"Sounds good. Be ready in 5."

I hop from the bed, but he catches me, hooking an arm around my waist. He tickles me. I lay back on the bed and laugh, trying to calm myself.

"Be ready in 10," he corrects, dropping the towel from his waist. I bring my hand to my mouth to cover my squeal.

He crawls over me, slowly forcing me back to the end of the bed with all my pillows. I plop down, my back arched against the pile of pillows. He reaches a hand down between my thighs and lowers his lips to mine. He doesn't tease me –something I like about Trevor.

Waves are rolling over me in the form of Trevor's agile hand. He's propped against the stack of pillows, laying on his side just barely hovering over me. It's so he can see me. I try to lean into him and pull his head down to mine, to kiss him, but he resists. I know what he's waiting for and I'm so close.

Finally as my body shivers against his he leans down to kiss me, his lips wet and clean. Another thing I like about Trevor: His skin smells clean, airy like citrus and cotton. I pull him on top of me and in me –to cloak my body with his inviting scent.

Trevor may be the best kisser ever. Sure, it's not an end-of-the-world kiss. He's not breathing his life into me, but he's also not sucking out my soul. He kisses like each one is the first one. As he moves over me, faster and deeper, his lips rise from mine and then fall back as he grinds down on me. Each time they find my lips it's like we've never kissed before.

I wrap my arms around his back and lift myself to him so I'm almost off the bed. Trevor's hand wraps under me, finding my butt. He squeezes and I stifle a laugh. I can't help but laugh and then he's laughing. Faster we're laughing until it's not funny. Until instead I curl up inside myself and he inside of me. Until he collapses on top of me and we share our first kiss again.

"OK. You have two minutes left." He says, smirking. "Sorry."

I laugh on my way to the bathroom. I peel my tank off my sweaty chest and turn on the water. I find myself smiling in the mirror.

So what if he never tugs on my hair at the base of my neck. He never presses me down by the hips so hard that it almost hurts. He doesn't tease me or make me do any work myself. It is easy with Trevor. Light with Trevor.

So what if he leaves my soul in tact when we kiss.

A soul is a good thing to have.

And that's coming from me.

My shower is quick and I'm already brushing out my hair when I step back into my room. I look up and see Trevor sitting on the edge of my bed.

"Hey," he says.

"Hi," I smile. "You look guilty."

"Your phone rang. It was Brooks," Trevor says quietly.

Shit.

"Oh," is all I can say. Trevor knows about Brooks –well knows he's the last guy I dated. If you can even call it dating.

"Sorry. The phone stopped ringing right away, but I knew you'd see the missed call so..." Trevor's voice trails off. He looks awkwardly at my duvet.

"No, it's fine. Prob a pocket dial," I say, nodding. My insides are melting. Why did Brooks call me? WHY?

"If you want to call him back –I mean, that's fine. I know it didn't end well–"

"No, I don't want to. Trevor it's fine. I do not want to call him back. I don't," I say.

"Say it one more time," Trevor teases.

I walk over to the edge of my bed where he's sitting and take my phone from his hand. There is it –his name on my screen. I'm flashing back to Halloween –to six mf months. A pang in my heart makes me want to time-travel. But even if I did I know I'd end up here again.

Alone.

Well, not alone but not with him.

"You don't owe me anything, Emmy. You can call the guy if you have to –or if you want to," Trevor says.

"Really, I don't want to. Not going to call him back," I say, shaking my head. My phone is on my dresser top, out of sight.

"Well, if you're sure, then OK." Trevor smiles, perking up a bit at my insistence.

"I'm sure," I say.

He leans up and kisses me.

Yo, I don't deserve Trevor.