Trent

His jaw clenched as he watched her walk down the hall, making her way to the office, just as she had for the last four days . She had definitely gotten comfortable here, since now, every morning she wandered from her room, past Trent as he was walking to the gym. And every morning he had to hold his breath and try not to look at her long legs, pantless, as she strolled past and said good morning. It was starting to drive him crazy, as he began to wonder if she was aware of just how long he stared at her after she had passed him.

It was taking everything in him to move the way she wanted him to. But fighting off the urge to grab her and shove her against the wall and kiss her, or scoop her out of her office chair and carry her to his bedroom, or just simply run his fingers through her hair was feeling more and more impossible, the longer she was there. But out of respect for her and giving her the space she needed, he was trying.

Last night he had heard her on the phone with Matt. It was late, and the only reason he had heard them was because he was up, working with a client who lived in the opposite side of the country. He tried not to pause in front of the door and listen, he told himself it wasn't his business, but ever since she showed up with those bruises, he wanted to know each move she made and who would be there. It wasn't about being possessive, it was about keeping her safe.  He had the undeniable urge to make sure no one and nothing was going to hurt her again. But he didn't linger long. Just long enough to hear that Matt had figured out where she was. The conversation that came after wasn't pleasant and Trent wanted nothing more than to erase it from existence.

"You haven't been in the apartment much, where are you?"

"Matt, I'm thinking things through, my life didn't stop, I'm still working, I still spend time in the city and with my mom. I'm not always at the apartment."

"No, Fallon, you haven't been back in almost a week. My things are still there, I've been back all different hours of the day, you're not there, you haven't been. Where are you?"

"This isn't part of the deal Matt, I asked you for three weeks to think, not try and catch me at my own apartment," she said, annoyance in her tone.

There was a long pause between them, but then he said it.

"You're with him aren't you?" The defeat in his voice was almost enough that Trent could feel it.

Fallon sighed, "I am...and I'm being honest with you cause I said I would. But this was what I asked for Matt, 3 weeks to figure out what I want."

"That doesn't mean you sleep around like some fucking whore!"

That made Trent cringe, he felt the sting of Matt's words for Fallon.

He heard her sniff, and make a feeble attempt to defend herself. "I'm not sleeping with him."

"Maybe not, but you already did, so why does it matter now?"

He walked away after that.

Today, she was walking around with her head held high, as if she didn't cry, as if no one stomped on her and made her think she was lesser. Trent wanted nothing more than to pull her to him and tell her it wasn't true. And that she was strong, and courageous, and beautiful. That she never deserved to be talked to like that, and that she was so beyond special. But instead, he was running in the gym, hoping that eventually his heart would simply give out, and he wouldn't have to think about it all.

Something angry was blaring in his ears when his phone chimed, signaling a text message. It was from Fallon,
'Can I make dinner tonight? I don't want to step on yours or Tiffany's toes. But I really feel like cooking'

Trent laughed as he texted her back,
'Of course you can make dinner, or I can take you out to dinner.'

'Are you asking me on a date?'

'Are you saying yes?' A pang of excitement ran through him.

'New phone, who dis?'

He rolled his eyes, 'if you'd like to make dinner, I may need to send Jonathan out for groceries.'

'No, I'm gonna go get them, tell everyone I want them to have dinner.'

'You don't know where you are'

'GPS is a thing'

'Where are you right now?' He was done texting and preferred talking in person.

'I'm in MY office'

He shook his head and walked out of the gym. As he headed down the long hallway, he saw Tiffany in Fallon's room, changing the sheets on the bed. "Tiffany, I was going to come find you. I wanted to let you know, Fallon would like to make dinner tonight."

"Oh, that's fine, is she sure?"

Trent nodded, "it seems she is very certain. She would like everyone to stay for dinner though, if you can."

"That sounds great, I'll make sure to thank her later."

"She'll be very happy to hear you'll be joining us. Would you mind spreading the word to everyone?"

"No problem, Mr. McBride."

He nodded and continued walking towards the office. Faint sounds of ambient music could be heard from behind the closed door as he approached it. He slowly opened it and found her scrolling on her phone, not noticing him coming in.

"Working hard?"

She jumped, clearly not expecting him. "Jesus Christ Trent, you scared the shit out of me."

"Sorry," he chuckled as he closed the door behind him. He noticed that she was more put together than usual, her usual yoga pants and t-shirt was replaced by a black semi cropped tank that she had put a sweater over and her hair was up in a tight bun. She looked professional, intelligent. "You look nice," he noticed she had makeup on too. She had made the bruise on her face almost non existent with some sort of magic.

"Oh, thank you, I had a Zoom meeting, I just wanted them to see that I'm not like chillin' in my PJs."

"I like it, it's different."

She squinted at him, "good different, or bad different?" She questioned.

"Good different. Really good different." He shifted slightly, his gray sweatpants, already heavy from his time at the gym, were unforgiving for him right now.

There was a part of him that was embarrassed by the fact that he couldn't even look at her without getting turned on. But with her sitting at his desk, in that outfit, like this, he hoped maybe she would negate the boundary she set and make some sort of move. He sat in one of the chairs across from the desk and clenched his fingers around his knee.

She got up and walked towards the window, that's when he recognized her jeans. They were a pair of washed out black skinny jeans she had owned since college. There were frayed rips in the knees, thighs, and one straight rip across the bottom of the right butt cheek. For years, he complimented those jeans. They just hugged her body everywhere they should, accentuating every perfect curve she had. Combined with the rest of her outfit, there was no way he we'd getting up from this chair anytime soon.

"So I can make dinner?" She shifted while staring out the window.

"Absolutely, I talked to Tiffany and told her to tell everyone else. She was happy to be invited."

Fallon smiled, "I used to cook at home every night, as long as I didn't work late. Matt couldn't cook no matter how hard he tried, everything always burned. I just was thinking that I really miss doing it." She placed her hands on the desk and leaned into them, "what do you want for dinner?"

'You,' he thought to himself, "I'm not picky," he said.

"Hm, okay, I'll figure something out. I'm gonna grab something to drink, do you want something?"

Her hand brushed against him as she walked past, again he clenched his fingers and this time, added his jaw. "Sure, just a water bottle would be great."

Once she was out the door, he exhaled and rubbed his face, wiping the last few drops of sweat from his forehead. "Fuck," he whispered as he put his head in his hand.

"What's wrong?" She asked, this time scaring him.

"Shit," I didn't see you walk back in. Nothing, nothing is wrong." He took the water bottle from her outstretched hand. "Thank you." He began to chug it, hoping the cold would help remedy the current situation he was in.

Fallon sat back on the opposite side of the desk in front of her computer again. "You good?" She asked him.

"Yeah, why?"

"You're kinda just staring into space and you keep clenching your jaw."

"Yeah, I noticed I was doing that." He rubbed at his face again.

They sat in silence for a few moments more.

"Hey Trent?"

"Yeah?" He was looking at her over her laptop now, her eyes barely visible.

"Is it my jeans?" She smiled as she lowered her computer screen.

He squinted, smiling back at her, "fuck you Fallon Marie," he started to laugh and so did she.

"I mean, I've already seen it, you can just get up." She covered her smile with her hand.

"Oh this is what we're doing now? Fine, have it your way," he got up, ignoring the prominent outline of his penis now apparent to her. He stepped towards her, leaning his hands on to the desk, "next time you're in here, we're fucking on this desk." He cocked his head to the side and raised his eyebrows as he said it.

"Trent!" She gasped slightly, like she knew she wanted to deny it, but her body's immediate reaction was the thought of the gratification.

"I'm going to take a cold shower because I think you're playing a dangerous game here, and I'm tempted to play it. But, I'm gonna let you win just this once and walk away, but next time, we're gonna play."

"Good," she dawned a mischievous grin, "I'll bring my jeans."

If he had his way right now, he would have tilted her chair back, clasped his hand around her neck and tangled his hands in her hair, then kissed her harder than ever before. But, he felt like this was coming from the conversation she had last night. Her want to be wanted, when the one that was supposed to want her the most, abandoned her. He didn't want to play into the emotions that would get mixed up in all of that. He exhaled quickly through his nose and stared at her intensely. "What are you doing to me?"

She shrugged nonchalantly. "Ill see you at dinner?" She asked.

He smiled, nodded, and walked out of the office.