Chapter 7: Trevor
Alex woke up with a hangover, the kind that starts as pounding behind the eyes and spreads through to the forehead. Daylight was the enemy and Alex threw the throw blanket over her eyes, a groan slipping from her lips as she finally started feeling the consequences of sleeping on the couch.
Still, her lips tingled. She remembered Olivia's lips on hers. She remembered Olivia backing away, being apologetic, even though Alex was the one who initiated the kiss. Olivia was, in all ways, a well-meaning person. God, Alex had never met anyone like her. So kind. Never willing to take advantage. She was certainly unlike the women Alex was used to sleeping around with.
Alex peeked out of her blanket cocoon, searching for her phone, which she found on the floor beside the couch.
I'm sorry about last night. I was drunk and being an idiot, but that doesn't mean I didn't know what I was doing. I wanted to kiss you, but maybe I shouldn't have. But, fuck, I wanted to.
She pressed send, but didn't expect a response so soon. She didn't really expect a response at all, thinking that maybe she pushed too far too soon this time.
I kissed back, Alex. Maybe it shouldn't have happened, but I wanted it.
Alex smiled. She couldn't help it. Despite the way smiling made her head hurt worse, Alex couldn't stop the smile from spreading. Shit, she was in deep. So fucking deep with no exit in sight.
I don't know what to do about this.
Alex frowned, but typed away.
Neither do I. I just know that I want you.
It was out there now and Alex couldn't take it back. She wasn't sure she ever wanted to take it back, no matter how much it scared her to admit that she wanted Olivia more than she'd wanted anyone else and in a different way than she was used to wanting someone. It unnerved her that it took Olivia more than a few seconds to answer.
I want you too.
Despite the headache and the increasing need to vomit, Alex felt herself shiver. It wasn't that she'd never been told that she was wanted – of course; she'd heard it before. But Olivia saying it, even just texting it, felt different.
When can I see you again?
I work a double today, 1 shift tomorrow. Maybe tomorrow night if you want.
I'd love to see you. I promise, no funny business.
It's a date.
XXX
Why she allowed herself to say so much, Olivia would never know. She knew Alex was capable of anything – she was willing to cheat on her boyfriend with what she assumed were countless women, women whose hearts she'd broken, undoubtedly. Yet, here Olivia was, eating out of the palm of her hand. Telling her the things she wanted to hear.
Falling for the things she was told.
If only Olivia had no morals. If only she didn't think of the consequences. If only she didn't care.
But she did have morals and she thought of the consequences and she cared too much. Her mother had told her that once, that she cared too much. Olivia never saw this as a bad thing. Certainly not a deficit on her part. Until today.
She suited up, left her apartment, and settled into routine – a routine that left little room for Alex Cabot to find her way into her mind.
XXX
An hour later, Alex was once again forced out of her blanket cocoon to face sunlight and a blaring ringtone. Granted it was two o'clock in the afternoon and any self-respecting adult would be up at this hour, but Alex Cabot had a night full of bad decisions and she couldn't understand who would call her while she was so obviously inept.
Trevor. Trevor would call her.
"Hey, babe. What's going on?"
"I'm hung over, Trevor, I really am too tired…"
"Aww, do you want me to come over? I'll bring soup."
Alex wanted to say no, but he was so eager to see her. She could hear it in his rushed voice. That was the thing she loved about Trevor. He was always so eager for her. Eager, but patient. He loved Alex wholeheartedly, throughout grammar school, even more when away at Exeter, and even more now.
So, Alex said yes.
And Trevor delivered. He brought soup and tea, made sure she'd had water and aspirin. Then curled his body behind Alex's on the couch. And despite the fact that his arousal from being this close to Alex was obvious even by the most adolescent standards, he laid there with her, not asking for anything. Always patient, always waiting for Alex to come around.
Trevor was unreal. Too trusting and too nice to be real. If he were an asshole, it would make life much easier. But he wasn't. He was the type of guy girls like her were supposed to dream about. He was good looking, a gentleman, educated at the best schools available, and affluent. He was well bred and a well-bred young woman like Alex deserved to, eventually marry an affluent young man such as Trevor.
He was hardly what she wanted, but she'd settled it with herself very earlier on that he was exactly what she deserved. And had she not settled it with herself, her mother would've settled that for her.
"You must've partied hard last night, huh?" There was a chuckle in his voice.
She hadn't partied. She'd drank herself stupid in an attempt to loosen up in front of a woman she had every intention on fucking, "I tried to drink a Texan under the table." She lied; she had to.
"Abbie, was it?" Alex nodded a response.
"I think she and Serena are going to get serious."
"Good for Serena."
Truth be told, Trevor was always a bit squeamish around Serena. It wasn't that lesbians, or homosexuality at all, made him sick. But the idea of Alex being around Serena, being influenced by Serena, perhaps falling in love with Serena – those thoughts had crossed his mind. And if Serena was taken, that meant more Alex for him, right? To emphasize the point in his own mind, he held her closer and judged by the grunt that escaped Alex that she was satisfied.
But all Alex wanted to do was run.
