#Rev (GearShark, #2)

by Cambria Hebert

It was the way he put ketchup on his plate so I could eat his fries. The way I automatically pulled the tomatoes off my burgers and slid them onto his plate. It was the fact that I went to him first whenever something happened I wanted to share. And the way we made each other’s coffee exactly as we drank it. Love is in the details. It’s in the everyday. It’s the way you treat someone when they aren’t even looking and the way they fill your head when you’re apart.

“Family takes care of family.” His voice was muted. “I’m not sure if there’s anything that could make me turn

I never really said it, never really let on… but Romeo was important to me. It sounded odd because we were the same age, we were family, and because, well, I was taller than him, but I looked up to Romeo.

“You’ve always been a quiet guy. You’re the observer. The friend, the guy who’s always there but stays in the background. You’re kind of like the funny sidekick in a TV show. People might not have come to watch you, but you’re the reason they stay. That inner strength you all say I have? You got it, too.”

“I’m talking about anyone who hates on people who are gay. Who loves someone of the same sex. Those people might not be quite as unstable as Zach, but they’re just as dangerous. Anyone who uses the fact that a person loves another person as some kind of weapon or reason to be a douche bag isn’t right in the head.”

“You don’t turn your back on love.” He went on without missing a beat. “Love isn’t easy, not for anyone, but you don’t push it away. You hold even tighter.”

“Just remember, all flags tremble in the wind, but they still keep flying.”

Then I met Trent. I fell in love with my best friend. It’s a good damn thing I was a fighter. I’d fight for him. I’d fight for me. I’d fight for us.

Love was a conundrum, a paradox. Loving Trent was incredibly easy. I did it without thought, without effort. But everything that came with those automatic feelings—that’s where the effort came in.

Yeah, loyalty. My dick was a loyal fellow. No, you may not call him Lassie.

Trent would always be my ultimate adrenaline rush. Not even a car or racetrack could beat him. He’d crossed the finish line in my heart a long time ago.

“No, Drew. I’m giving you my forever. I’m giving you my heart for my entire lifetime. I’m just not taking that from you.”

“Even if I lost every single one of those things you just listed, it still wouldn’t add up to the single loss of you.”

Corndog = the official term for when a woman knees (or kicks) a dude in his goods.

Coffee was like gas to my car. I simply didn’t start without it.

I liked sharing my coffee with him. I liked eating off his plate. I liked anything that moved me just one centimeter closer to him.

Drew and I were stronger together. I was stronger with him than I would ever be apart. He gave me strength. I gained courage from his love.

“Why do men have to make everything so hard?” Rimmel wondered. “‘Cause they have big, dumb egos,” Ivy added.

Who needed caffeine when I had a dimple-wielding car addict in front of me?

Our friendship was better because of our love. Our love was better because it blossomed out of friendship.

“You smell like leather,” I murmured, tucking in just a little closer. I had to get my feels in while I could get ‘em. “You smell like home.”

“I wish you could see how happy I am, how excited. I wish when you looked at Trent, you saw the man I did. A man who is passionate about business, who is loyal to his friends, and who feels more deeply in his little finger than you do in your entire body. You might be disgusted that I love him, but I’m proud. I’m proud to love someone who loves me enough to walk into this house and take the abuse you’ve so casually thrown at him. You want to make me choose? I choose him. I choose my life over the life you want me to have.”

All love was not created equal. It wasn’t a birthright. It wasn’t earned by blood. Love wasn’t guaranteed. Really pure love was hard to come by. It didn’t matter where it was found. All that mattered was that we held on when it was.

I liked having a person who was so strong; that way I could borrow some of his strength when I was feeling depleted.

Intimacy didn’t come necessarily from the actual act of sex. It came from the way you treated the act, the way you approached it, and the way the person you were with cherished your body.

Just call me Trent, king of the head game.

Oddly, I wasn’t embarrassed by it. It was kind of flattering, I guess. Mostly, it kind of endeared the kid to me. (Yes, I know I’m supposed to think of him as a man, but it’s hard, okay? He’s kind of like the baby brother I never had.)

We all know perfection in life is very rare. Unless of course you’re a crispy, warm French fry dunked generously in Heinz ketchup.

I’d probably never, ever say it out loud, but there was a name for what T and I had. It wasn’t just love. It was #TrewLove. PS: Get it? That’s our ship name. #Trew. PSS: Don’t tell anyone I gave us a ship name.

“I feel sorry for you,” he said. “I feel sorry that for all these years, you’ve had someone as amazing as Trent right here and you never even knew it. You were right when you said I don’t know anything about your life. I have no idea what could make you so cold and unfeeling to a child who did nothing but wish you were there more. He’s not the selfish one. You are. And what I do know is someday you’re going to regret this, but by then, it’s going to be too late.”

Granny invited us inside, and two things happened: 1. She told Trent he had good taste in men and offered me a cookie. and 2. She informed Trent his Scottish accent wasn’t very convincing and she always knew it was him who called, but he could call her anytime and talk in a bad accent because she loved him. Granny was my new favorite person.

“Braeden’s right,” I said. “We’re like a damn Nicholas Sparks movie.”