Watching the guys play pool, Bree sat next to friends she hadn't seen in far too long and tried her best to listen to what they were talking about. Concentrating was hard. She truly hadn't been prepared for Trent to be there, and the fact that he was served as a distraction.
Jason must've noticed her change in behavior. She'd mentioned Trent to him before because he'd come up when she was telling him some stories about things that had happened with this particular group of friends while they were in high school. Jason had specifically asked if Trent was going to be there, which Bree had thought was odd, until now. Jason wasn't the brightest bulb in the pack, but he had to have guessed there was more to her past with Trent than she was telling him.
There was more to it than Bree was willing to admit to, most of the time. The drink in her hand was helping with the introspection, though. Trent still looked good. In high school, she'd catch herself staring at him and have to look away before he noticed. They were friends, after all, nothing more.
Nora was telling a story, and everyone laughed. Bree chimed in, trying to fool them all into thinking she was a part of the conversation, but her mind had wandered back to junior year….
Out in the parking lot, Bree could still hear the music playing in the gymnasium. She felt so stupid, buying a new dress and getting herself all made up--for what? Stupid Chris Smith wasn't interested in her. He'd just been using her to make his ex-girlfriend jealous.
Bree pulled her phone out of her pocket and started to dial her mom. She hadn't driven herself to the dance, so she had no ride home. She might look like a little kid having her parents come and get her, but it beat walking home.
"Bree! Are you okay?"
She turned around to see Trent jogging toward her, the corsage his date had pinned on his lapel a few hours ago a visible reminder that he'd come there with someone else.
"I'm fine," she said, sticking her phone back in her jacket pocket. "I just… want to go home." There was no sense trying to hide her tears from him. Trent knew her better than anyone.
"I saw what that jackass was doing, Bree. I'm so sorry."
She wiped her nose on the back of her hand, realizing she was also still wearing her corsage. She took it off and hurled it across the parking lot. "Why do guys have to act like that?"
"I'm so sorry," he said again, brushing a strawberry-blonde lock of hair away from her face. "Not all guys are like that, you know."
Shaking her head, she folded and unfolded her arms, not sure what to do. "Well, it seems like everyone I date is."
"Yeah, I'll give you that." He chuckled, sticking his hands in the pockets of his dress pants.
"That's not funny." She pushed him playfully, and since he had his hands in his pockets, he staggered backward a little bit.
"I was just kidding, Bree. Trying to make you laugh."
"Yeah, except it's true."
"Bree…."
"God, Trent. I'm such a loser."
"You're not a loser, Bree. He's the loser." He had his hands on her now, pulling her by the arms so she'd look at him. "Anyone who doesn't know your worth is a loser."
She looked into his eyes for a moment but then dropped her head. "You're just saying that because you're my best friend."
"Best friend?" he repeated. "Wow. I've gotten a promotion."
"Stop. You know you are." He pulled her closer, and Bree put her head on his shoulder. His arms circled around her, and she inhaled deeply, wishing she had a way of telling him she wanted so desperately for him to be more than a friend.
But she had no idea if he felt the same way, and she couldn't mess this up. What would she do without him in her life? Shrivel up and die? Bury herself under a rock and stay there forever?
"You should come back inside, Bree." Trent's voice was just a whisper in her ear. "Don't give him the satisfaction of knowing he upset you."
"Are you kidding? And watch him dance with that stupid bitch all night?"
"Let him watch you dance with a bunch of hot guys all night. All right, well maybe not any hot ones--but me, and Isaac, and Hank…."
She raised her eyes to look at him. Did he really think he wasn't hot? He was the hottest guy in Shelbyville. "What about your dates?"
He shook his head. "Our dates all know that we're friends. Hell, Missy and I are just friends. You know that."
That's what he'd said, but she didn't know if Missy was aware of that. "Are you sure? I was just going to call my mom. How am I going to get home when this is over?"
"Hi--I'm your next door neighbor. Pretty sure I can get you home." He slipped a finger under her chin and gently raised her face so she was looking at him. "Bree, Bree… it's okay. You're okay. You're better than okay. You're amazing."
Bree took a deep breath. Something was happening here, and while it made her nervous and a little terrified, it felt really good as well. An energy filled the air around them, and Bree found herself staring at his lips for a second before she realized they were moving closer to hers.
He was going to kiss her! Trent Walker--her next door neighbor, hottest guy in school, best friend--was going to kiss her. Bree closed her eyes and leaned in, ready to accept his kiss and whatever it meant for them.
"Yo, Walker! You comin' back or am I gonna have to steal your girl?"
Trent jumped back about six feet, and Bree dropped her head. Stupid Hank! What the hell was wrong with him?
"I'm coming!" Trent shouted back. He took a few steps, ran a hand through his sandy blond hair, and then turned back to Bree. "You, uh… you ready?"
"Yep. Let's go." How could she not go back in now? She took a deep breath and walked alongside Trent, back into the dance, pretending what had just happened hadn't just happened….
Back in the cabin, Bree realized Nora was saying her name. "Bree? Are you even listening?"
"Huh? Oh, yeah. I'm listening. Sorry. Maybe I've had too much to drink."
"Isn't that your first beer?" Christy asked.
"Light weight," Abby joked.
Bree did her best to tune into the conversation, but her eyes kept wandering back to Trent. Things had never quite been the same between them after that night in the parking lot when he'd almost kissed her.
She wished she could go back in time and make it happen. If things were going to be odd, she may as well see what it would've led to. Instead, that night had been the beginning of the landslide of their friendship, and God how she missed him….
This Jason guy was a prick. Trent could tell by the cocky way he held his pool stick. Not to mention he didn't have too many nice things to say about Bree. The girls were sitting on the other side of the room, laughing and telling stories, though every time he looked at Bree, she seemed tuned out, like she had something on her mind.Jason was telling stories, too. "So anyway, she decides to bring her guitar, right, as if she's going to serenade the poor homeless dudes downtown. And I don't want to be there anyway. I've got more to do with my Saturdays than work a damn
Bree hadn't meant to follow Trent outside--not exactly anyway. She'd seen him leave but hadn't realized he'd stepped outside for a breath of fresh air in the same place she had until after she was halfway out the door. It would be strange to walk away from him. It seemed strange to walk toward him, too, though. But her feet were headed in that direction before she had a chance to stop them.The night was chilly, which was to be expected in the mountains in December; she wished she’d thought to grab her coat. It wasn't snowing, but the wind was stirring up ice cr
With her back to Jason, Bree hugged a pillow and tried to stop her tears. It was past 2:00 in the morning, and she was exhausted. Not only was she tired from a long day of school, being on the road, and one too many drinks, she'd spent the last few hours arguing with Jason.It hadn't been pretty on the porch. She'd tried to play it off, as if it meant nothing that she had her head on Trent's shoulder, that his arm was around her, but Jason would have none of it.
Bree was furious! How could that jerk of a now-ex-boyfriend take the car and leave like that? It wasn't even his car! She'd borrowed it from her roommate because it had new tires on it and wasn't as likely to break down as hers. Jason didn't even own a car! He got to and from class on a little Vespa he called his baby. He was such an idiot. At least they were done, and she'd never have to see him again.Her roommate, Lilly Edge, had gone home for the holidays, too, but her sister, who was a year younger than her, had stopped to pick her up on her way through town, so
The snow was falling lightly as Bree followed Trent outside. Uncle Tom's pickup truck was almost as old as Bree was, but he did his best to keep it running, because it was his baby. It sat idling out front, breathing as heavy as Bree had been just the night before when she'd hauled the suitcase up the stairs. Had that only been a few hours ago? So much had changed since then.As Trent slowly turned and looked at her, she was reminded that just as much had stayed the same. He had almost kissed her--again. It just didn't seem like it was meant to be. She should just tel
Christmas came and went, as did New Year’s Day, and Bree didn't hear from Trent. When she went back to school, he still hadn't called. She'd gotten the impression that he would, so she continued to wait for at least a text from him, but none ever came.She didn't understand why. He'd finally kissed her, and for Bree, it had been just as magical and amazing as she'd always dreamt it would be. But.... maybe it hadn't been for him. Maybe Trent was not as enamored with her as he had been with the idea of her.
"Is this seat taken?"Trent looked up to see a beautiful blonde with long, straight hair and a gorgeous smile standing next to him, a full tray in her hands. "Uh, no." She reminded him of Bree--sort of. She wasn't quite as pretty as his friend, but the hair was similar, and she had a nice smile."Thanks. It's crowded in here."
The rest of the semester flew by in a blur of classes and weekend gigs. By the end of the school year, Bree and Sam were practically inseparable. They were even discussing the possibility of getting an apartment together when school started in the fall. Bree didn't know how to tell Lilly, though. They'd been roommates for three years, and she couldn't imagine leaving her their senior year.The last day of school, Bree was in their room, packing up to go home for the summer when Lilly came in, an odd look on her face. "Hey, are you okay?" Bree asked, dropping a paperba
Two weeks later…. Bree sat on the beach, a drink one hand, Trent’s fingers interlaced with her other where it lay in the sand. The ocean waves rolled in, wetting the sand near their toes, the sun baking down on their tan skin as it dried from their first dip in the ocean. There would be plenty more.&nbs
The sound of the gavel echoed throughout the courtroom. No one said a word for what seemed like the longest few seconds Bree could ever remember. Then, the people around her came back to life, and she found air in her lungs again. “Are you okay?” Trent asked. He was always asking her that, checking on her, making sure she was all right. Bree nodded. She was all right. She was going to continue to be all right, too. It seemed like a nightmare that had lasted almost two years was finally over.&nb
Yet again, Bree found herself speaking to a police officer. This time, she wasn’t the one lying in a hospital bed, though. Instead, after they’d pieced together enough of the story to know that the maintenance man had been trying to make it so that the pipe above her head would move down, Bree and her bandmates had been asked to come to the police station. The others were sitting outside, or maybe one or two of them were being interviewed by other officers now. All she knew was the man sitting across from her, Detective Coop Wellington, didn’t look like the sort of person one kept information from. “We know Monica and this&helli
“All right--Bree Matthews!” a stagehand shouted, coming over with a clipboard and a microphone on his head. “Are you ready?” “We are ready!” Bree said for all of them, bouncing on her heels. “Then, head to your spots.” He signaled for them to approach their section of the stage. The band had been prepped on how this would work before the show. They headed to the places they’d been told to earli
Sitting in a chair, staring at a runway, brought back way too many uncomfortable memories for Trent. Had it really just been a little over a year since he’d spent at least one or two days a week sitting in just such a chair, waiting for Monica to come down the stage? It seemed so strange now. He tried not to fidget, but his leg was bouncing up and down so quickly, he was glad he wasn’t outside because he might manage to start a fire with the right kindling--and like Bree, he’d had enough of fire for one lifetime. “Are you all right?” Celia asked, leaning over to whisper in his ear. “You’re making me nervous, an
Anxiety bubbled up in Bree as she stood in the staging area, getting ready for the big show. All around her, models and bands were putting the finishing touches on their makeup and hair, the models getting into their first outfits so that they’d be fully prepared to grace the runway as soon as it was their turn to take the walk and show off the newest fashions to an invigorated audience. From what Bree could tell, this wasn’t actually one of those fashion shows where the clothing was practical and might be bought by the average housewife. No, it was mostly lingerie, and it was mostly, well, ridiculous, in her point of view. None of it was s
The sound of voices from the television met Bree’s ear as she walked through the apartment door. She checked the time on her phone. It was only a little past 3:00. What was Trent doing home? She had to assume it was him watching the television because it sounded like the news channel, and if the housekeeper had turned it on, it would’ve been a soap opera or court show. Hanging her purse by the door, and placing her keys where she could find them, she went into the adjoining room to investigate. Trent was sitting on the couch with his laptop open on his lap, his stocking feet on the coffee table, typing away. She almost didn’t want to
Meeting Monica at the event center where the Nashville Nights concert was to be held was intimidating, even though Bree had her bandmates with her. She had insisted Trent go to work; it was a Thursday afternoon, after all, just after lunch, and there was no reason for him to miss work to walk with her through the building where she’d be playing in a couple of nights, not when she had three capable men and Shawna with her to give her moral support.Trent had protested, saying he’d feel much more comfortable if Bree allowed him to go along, that the rest of the band wasn’t aware of how Monica could be. It had almost led to an argument. Bree had insisted she wasn&
“This is a horrible idea. The worst one ever. In the entire history of the world, I cannot imagine one idea worse than this one.” Celia sat across from Trent in his office, her arms folded, her legs crossed, her face puckered.At the moment, he couldn’t even allow himself to snicker at her exaggeration. While he agreed that what he was about to do was a terrible idea, he could think of lots of other ideas that were worse, many of them involving wars that had killed thousands or millions of people. Or spread disease. Or polluted the environment. But she was right--of all of the decisions he’d been directly involved in, this one was pretty awful.