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It was a miracle if our group of friends could go out and not cause a raucous.

I'm saying miracle, because it rarely happens. Like tonight, it didn't happen.

The one behind the fiasco is Jared, who actually has the decency to look guilty about having ruined Nat's birthday.

We've all driven back to Nat and Trent's childhood home – it's closest to the club - to nurse Jared's wounds.

His knuckles are a bloody mess and his jaw looks to be forming a nasty bruise. I feel bad for him, despite it all.

The tension in the kitchen is heady, as Jared sits on a chair next to the island counter.

His head hangs in shame, but his clenched jaw states otherwise - he hasn't given a shit that he's hit the guy who touched Nat without asking her permission.

I don't blame him.

"You're lucky that he's not pressing charges," Oli says. He's scrubbing his face and looks wary. "Goddamn, Jared. You need to get a hold of your emotions."

Inga says nothing, holding Oli's hand. Tara rolls her eyes and Nat can't hear what's going on because she has her head buried in the freezer, gathering ice for Jared.

Trent's expressionless next to me, as if this whole situation is beyond him.

He's been tense ever since we kissed, and he ran out to fight off Jared from going berserk. He was also tense when we were driving back, and he's still tense when I reach out to hold his hand in comfort.

I drop my hand, trying not to wince from the hurt.

"That was foolish of you," Tara adds fuel to the fire. "You could have really hurt him or worse, gotten hurt yourself. We're not kids anymore. Fists don't solve anything."

Nat closes the door of the freezer and turns around with a confused expression.

"I know we aren't kids," Jared hisses, getting up from his position, before Nat sits him down with a gentle hand.

"It's okay," she hushes to him softly.

Like a puppy desperate for her attention, Jared sinks back down, his throat working nervously as he gazes up at her.

Nat, with furrowed brows, places an ice pack against his bruised jaw. Jared flinches, but says nothing, basking in her presence.

"You okay?" she mumbles.

"Yes," he replies. "I – uh – I'm sorry I ruined your birthday, Natalie."

She smiles at him, but it doesn't fully reach her eyes. "You didn't ruin anything. The people who matter to me are all here. This is enough."

Jared holds the icepack, looking shameful.

"It's not too late," Inga pipes up. "How about Oliver and I pass by Le Petit Moulin? We'll grab a cake, order some pizza and just relax?"

We all agree, and Oliver and Inga leave to run errands.

Tara and Nat busy themselves with wrapping Jared's knuckles. It seems like they do this to give Trent and I privacy.

I glance up at him again.

Trent is closed off. Gently, I run the back of my fingers over his, trying to catch his attention. As if some thought has finally occurred to him, he shakes his head and storms out of the kitchen.

Nat sighs, glaring up at the ceiling. "For heaven's sake."

"Go after him, Cher," Tara finishes her thought. "Lord knows what's going on in that head of his."

"I got an idea what's happening to the head between his l – Ow, fuck!" Jared curses.

"Don't be gross, Jared." Nat and Tara both scold.

I've tuned them out as I cross the hallway and bound up the staircase.

The door to his ensuite is open, and Trent's is inside the bathroom.

He's facing the mirror, looking angry with himself, hands braced on the counter.

Entering softly, I lock the door behind us.

* * *

"Hi," I murmur.

His back stiffens until he's ramrod straight. His tempestuous gaze collides with mine in the mirror.

There's so much swirling in the depth of his gaze.

"Go away," he grits out.

I won't be deterred by his rejection. I know now this is how he hides his pain. I felt the longing...the yearning...when he kissed me. It's enough for me to know this was hard on him, too.

He's been avoiding me this whole time because he doesn't know how to deal with what's happened. I want to make it better. I want him to see that he's all I want.

I wrap my arms around his middle and lean my cheek between his shoulder blades. "I miss my best friend, Trent. I miss you so much."

His warm hand slowly encompasses mine for a mere moment, where he squeezes it with affection, then drops it away.

I hug him harder, pressing a kiss to his strong back.

"I can't think straight when I'm around you. I need time to be with my thoughts. It's hard to do that with you around...because you're all I think about when you're in the same room as me," he admits, the taut lines in his body loosening.

He sags in relief as if that admission is just what he needed.

My heart swells with affection for this guy. "Trent."

"Not talking to you everyday, going about my days as usual has been tough. I've missed you, too. I know you're sorry but I...I can't get the thought of you and some other guy out of my head. It's been fucking with me since I found out."

Sensing he needs to let this out without seeing my face, I hug him harder and kiss his back once more.

"I know you said it's over between you guys...I believe you...I just. Ah, fuck. I can't be your rebound. I really, really can't."

I pull away and force him to turn around. He does with reluctance, swallowing hard.

I raise my hands to cup his cheeks. "Trenton, you could never be my rebound. We have so much history. I've known you my whole life. I've liked you for more than half of my life. And for the rest of it I had a fiancé. Then I came back here and fell back into my old patterns. I never stopped liking you, it seems. I only forgot about you for a while. Doesn't that speak volumes?"

He closes his eyes and leans into my palm, before kissing it.

We stare at each other for a few more beats; he walks me backwards until my back is to the door.

Then his eyes fall to my chest and something in his demeanor shifts.

"I can see the outline of your nipples," he says low and a bit frustrated.

"Yeah, I'm usually horny when I'm around you. Can't help it."

He breathes a bit harshly.

"And I didn't wear a bra."

"Of course." He thumps his forehead against the door. "Why?"

Because this dress doesn't allow it. "Maybe I was hoping you'd see me in my dress, want to drag me elsewhere so you can lower my top and suck me. A girl can only hope."

His mouth falls open, bewildered. "Fuck. Fuck. Fuck."

I love that look. I rise on my tippy toes.

"I can't kiss you," he declares, face pinched.

I try not to whine and stomp like a five-year-old. "Why not?"

"Because I won't stop there – I'll want to fuck you."

Oh. Oh, my.

We'll, if we're being honest...

"I want to be fucked, Trent," I whisper against his mouth and he groans, trying to resist me. "I want to be fucked hard by you, baby. I need it so bad. It's been so long."

"God," he's praying ceilingward, throat working harsh. Trying to push me away but only succeeding in pulling me closer.

I kiss his adam's apple, then I lick it for good measure. "I want to you to pin me down, fuck me rough and whisper nasty in my ear. You know I'll love it. Hurt me a little too. I want to be sore when you're through with me so every time I sit down, I think of you – I think of how good you treated me. How good you fucked me."

His eyes have glazed over and he's breathing hard through his open mouth, looking lustful and so angry at me. I love it. "Quiet, Cher. Quiet, baby."

"No." I rub against his hard-on. "I think of you every night. Every time I take a shower, I touch myself, thinking it's you. You fingers. Your lips. Your tongue. You're all I want – all I need. Can't you see that?"

"You're playing dirty." He staggers away from me. "Please. I'm not strong enough not to drag you to the floor and take you on all four," he growls. "Walk out, baby. I just need some more time. Please. Please, hermosa."

I want to leap into his arms and have him deliver on his words. I could do it now and we could both have the release we need. But, afterwards, there will only be regrets.

It's not worth risking.

My chin wobbles, but my resolve strengthens. I'm a strong, empowered woman. I'm not giving up on us. "Okay, Treasure-Chest. I'm going to leave. But know that I'm not done with you. If proving to you that you're all I need is the last thing I do, then so be it. I'll be damned if I don't have you convinced that you're all that matters to me."

Trent seems to be having an internal battle with himself when I pivot on my heels and leave.

Tomorrow, I'll show him. 

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Thoughts on this chapter? PS: I would love for you guys to give me constructive criticism as you go. I'll have to come back to this story and edit a lot when I want to publish, so I'd love to hear what you guys have to say!

Also, has anyone seen ELITE on netflix? Because WOW I literally binge-watched ALL 3 seasons in 2 days. What is wrong with me???