#Rev (GearShark, #2)

by Cambria Hebert

I suppose thinking we could keep our relationship a secret was naive. Merely wishful thinking. When you loved someone the way we loved each other, it was impossible to hide. It showed in every way. Not just in the way we looked at each other. Or the way we spent every spare moment together. It showed in ways I never wanted to see until now. Ways I thought no one else would notice. I’d been fooling myself. 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. Of course people were going to see it.

Trent was not easy. In fact, Trent was about as easy as asking a hive of bees for their honey. I wasn’t talking about on the surface, because in that sense, T was easy. He got along with everyone (except Lorhaven) and he made everyone feel at ease in his presence. I used to think it was because that’s just the way he was; he had that kind of personality everyone meshed with. Maybe some of it was that. But it was more. He was more. Trent had a quiet understanding about him. A quiet way of making everyone feel accepted. He left people better than when he found them. Whether it were as simple as a kind word, a smile, or a listening ear. His quiet demeanor wasn’t a flaw; it worked to his advantage. Those who listened were far wiser than those who only spoke. I’d been learning about him since the day we met. I hadn’t always realized it or even known it was happening, but now I did. It was like being taught how to tie a shoe, not being able to get the hang of it until one day I created a bow. Today was my bow. It might be a little crooked, it might be a little loose, but it was a bow all the same. Trent was so understanding because he himself wasn't understood. He had the ability to make people feel at ease with themselves because he knew what it was like to be conflicted. He listened because his mind was the loudest, and he accepted others because he himself felt unaccepted. How much of himself had he sacrificed over the years? How selfless could one man be before it became det...

He set aside the water, and I sipped at my coffee. Once I had a little in my system, I handed the mug to him. He glanced between me and the mug. Then he took it and lifted it to his lips. I knew the second the brew hit his taste buds because his eyes came back to mine. “This is how I drink it,” he said out of the side of his mouth. I hid a smile. “I was too lazy to make two.” 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. “You two are like a damn Nicholas Sparks movie,” Braeden announced, and T choked on the coffee he was drinking. “Stop it. We got shit to deal with. People to payback.” “You watch Nicholas Spark movies?” Romeo asked, blinking at Braeden. Rimmel giggled. “Maybe once,” Braeden muttered. “And you think we’re the gay ones?” Trent goaded him. I laughed. So did Romeo.

“What took you so long?” Drew griped, coming around the car. His blue eyes slid up my body and latched onto my face. From beneath the rim of my hat, I watched him, taking in his familiar, welcome form. “Brought you some fries.” I held up a white paper sack. The coffee I’d gotten myself was still in the Mustang, long forgotten. Who needed caffeine when I had a dimple-wielding car addict in front of me? Drew snatched the bag out of my hand and reached in to pull out a bunch of fries. I watched him shove them all into his mouth. The side of his cheek puffed out with the food, and his eyes rolled back a little while he groaned. “I needed these.” Just like that, my day didn’t seem so long anymore. In fact, I stood there and prayed the minutes—no, the seconds dragged by from here on out because I wanted as much time with him as humanly possible. “What about me?” I scoffed, mock indignation in my voice. Drew shoved another huge bite of fries into his mouth. “Fries before guys.” “Your priorities suck, Forrester,” I told him.

I never wanted to be a role model. I never wanted to be someone to break down walls or even give a voice to people who felt like they were somehow less. But that’s where I found myself. I looked at T. The lines and angles of his face were so familiar to me. So strong. He was my best friend and he was my lover. Underneath all that, though, he was a man. A man with doubts and feelings. With vulnerabilities and insecurities. I was, too. We all were. It didn’t make me less of a driver—less of an athlete. If anything, it made me better. So while, no, this wasn’t where I expected the road to lead me, here I was. I was lucky. Trent and I had each other. We had family and friends rallying around us to support us. What about the people who didn’t have anyone? Could I somehow give someone else some kind of hope, even from the cover of a magazine? I could. I would. But someone else would do it better. I swung around to Trent. “I think you should do it.” “Do what?” he asked. “Call the reporter at GearShark. Start the revolution.” “What about you?” he asked. “I’ll be there,” I replied, my attention condensed down to only him. “Always.”

Romeo cleared his throat. “Just know,” he boomed over the room in a loud but calm voice, “that anyone else who comes at Trent, my brother, will also deal with me.” “And me,” Braeden echoed. “And me,” I added, even though I thought my attack on Conner spoke louder than my words. “And the Wolves!” a guy hollered. A bunch of howling and cheering erupted behind us. Trent turned and looked. I followed his lead. Almost the entire Wolfpack was standing behind us. They were all wearing their jerseys, and they all stood in solidarity with Trent. With us. “Seriously, guys?” Trent seemed surprised. I wasn’t. Trent was the kind of guy who inspired loyalty. “One pack united!” someone yelled.

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.