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.
Trent had told him the same, that they were just friends, and Bree was just telling him how great a guy Jason was, but he didn't believe that either.
So they'd spent two hours arguing. Jason had been so mad, he'd broken a vase in the dining room. Christy had tried to clean it up for them and cut her finger--which got blood all over the carpet. The whole thing was a mess.
They'd finally taken the argument upstairs, after she'd convinced Trent that he didn't need to stand up for her, that it wasn't about him anymore, that Jason was just a dick.
By the time he'd finally told her to go to hell, Bree was so tired of shouting and crying, her throat was restricted, and her eyes ached.
She wasn't even sure why she was still in the same room with him. She should go downstairs and sleep on the couch or something. But she'd paid for the room, so she wanted to sleep in it at least one night before she left. That's exactly what she intended to do, too. She definitely wasn't staying here with him.
Jason was good looking, and when they'd first started dating, he'd done nice things for her. But even in the few months that they'd been steady, he'd started treating her differently. It wasn't until Trent told her what he'd said that she realized she'd been putting up with his crap because she didn't want to be alone. It seemed so stupid now. She was a strong, independent woman. She didn't have to have a man to be whole.
Of course, part of it had also been this trip. She didn't want to show up here solo. For all she knew, only couples were coming. If Isaac and his girlfriend hadn't broken up, that's all that would've been there. So she would've felt like a loser being the only one on her own.
Now, she desperately wished she could go back and change things. If Jason hadn't come with her, maybe it would be Trent sleeping in the bed with her.
That wasn't a good idea either, though. She knew that. A quick hook up with Trent would be the sort of thing that would ruin her. She'd have to start singing classic country western music to have an outlet for all of the heartache she'd feel after a one-night stand with him. An almost kiss had nearly derailed her entire life.
If there was a chance it could be more than a hook up, that would be different. But she didn't see that happening. He had said he was focused on school right now. Besides, it didn't matter. She was dealing with hypotheticals again. Hypotheticals that would never happen.
As Jason began to snore, Bree took the pillow she'd been holding onto for dear life and put it over her ears. In the morning, she'd get up, pack her stuff, and go. He could walk back to Louisville for all she cared.
She definitely wasn't going out with him anymore. With a year and a half of school left, she'd just focus on getting her degree in music education, keep playing her gigs, and learn as much as she possibly could. Yep, Bree Matthews was done with men for the foreseeable future.
So when she closed her eyes and she saw those brilliant blue orbs and that dazzling smile, she had to push thoughts of Trent aside, too. If she thought about him hard enough, she could still smell the scent of his cologne. It had been too long since she'd seen him. But it needed to be even longer before she saw him again. He'd messed with her head before; she couldn't let him do it again.
Bree could see the stars out the window. They twinkled and glowed, tiny pin pricks of light in a sea of dark blue. From now on, whenever she looked at them, she'd think of Trent. "T and B for life," she whispered. Bree squeezed her eyes shut and tried to go to sleep, praying that she could have one last dream of Trent and then forget about him again--at least until after they were both done with school and could see what might have happened if that almost kiss had been a real one.
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