Rock Solid

Page 17

He was here to buy a television. One he would probably never watch unless it was with Trevor. “I need a television. Seventy-two inch, at least. Something with a great picture. I’m thinking a smart TV.”
Trying to lighten the mood, Simon finally made himself look at Trevor...and he winked.
CHAPTER TEN
Simon decided he didn’t want to mount the TV on the wall, so they made another stop by the furniture store and picked up a new entertainment center. Luckily, they’d taken Trevor’s truck (Simon drove a fucking Lexus).  Simon had wanted to get the thing put together and delivered, but Trevor laughed about that. Why the hell would you pay extra to have someone put together an entertainment center? Simon tried to use Trevor’s hand as an excuse, but it was better now. His stitches were about to come out.
After stopping for burgers, they made their way back to Simon’s house.
They’d eaten first, and now they sat in the small living room with different pieces of wood splayed out around them. “Hand me T. It’s by your left leg.” Trevor pointed toward the oak and waited for Simon to give it to him.
Simon reached for it, almost fumbled it, but quickly situated his grip. Fuck. He was stupid. Trevor’s assumption was confirmed when Simon massaged his right hand with his left. “I can finish up if you—”
“I can put together an entertainment center. I’m fine.”
Trevor shrugged. “I know you are.” He hadn’t meant that the way it sounded, but he didn’t take it back, either. Maybe he should. Maybe he’d get himself into trouble, but he let Simon take that however he wanted to. Simon was an attractive man, and he wouldn’t deny that he thought so. “Is there anything they can do?” he asked, getting back to the subject of Simon’s hand. Another possibility with getting himself into trouble, but Trevor ignored it. He was good at that—ignoring things he shouldn’t do. It had caused him too many problems to count, but he let it go since he didn’t run the risk of getting addicted to Simon, or overdosing on him. He didn’t think.
The right side of Simon’s mouth rose, as if to say, really? And for the first time, Trevor noticed he had a dimple there. It made him look younger...innocent.
“Would I be sitting here if they could?”
Trevor’s lips tightened.
“Shit. I didn’t mean it that way. Not with you specifically.”
“But it’s true, whether you meant it or not. If you could perform surgery, it’s what you’d be doing. You’d be in San Francisco and not here. There’s nothing wrong with that. It’s just a fact. I need the piece marked U.”
Simon handed it over without a word. Trevor didn’t know what in the fuck was wrong with him. He’d just taken offense to something he had no business being offended about. Things felt differently sober, that was for sure. Not just because he was moodier, but it was easier not to feel things when his emotions were dulled by whatever he’d taken that day. It wasn’t like that anymore. Everything seemed to affect him now, and that pissed him off.
His skin started to feel a little too tight. Like he needed to escape. But Trevor tried to breathe through it, tried to ignore it. Less than an hour until his meeting. That was good. It would be good for him to go tonight. Just one more hour to go.
***
They didn’t talk much more as they finished putting together the entertainment center. Or as Trevor put it together and Simon pretended to help.
There was a difference in Trevor. He didn’t know what it was, but it became obvious as they finished up. His jaw was tighter than usual, and his movements a little more stiff. He wasn’t talking or joking the way he often did, either.
It made Simon mentally stumble that he noticed such a thing. He’d never been real good at paying attention to the people in his life. Not when it came to how they felt. It wasn’t only the long hours, but also Simon’s obliviousness to the emotions of those around him that had killed his relationship with Heather.
“We’re going to have to move this again in a few months when the remodel is done,” he said as he and Trevor pushed the new piece of furniture into its spot.
“We are, huh?” There was a lightness in Trevor’s voice that hadn’t been there a few minutes ago.
As far as Simon...he’d said we. What had that been about? “Yes. You’re the one who said I had to have a television, so you can help me move everything when the house is done.”
They moved the television before Trevor grabbed the remote and turned it on. “Picture’s good. You need satellite or cable. At least we don’t have to go have pizza that tastes day-old when we want to watch something.”