I woke up wrapped in Trev’s arms for the first time in two years, and it was somewhat jarring. After our heart-to-heart last night, we lay down to watch a movie on his laptop and ended up falling asleep. His scent filled my nose and his front pressed flush to my back. I twisted a little in his arms to find he was already awake.

“Hey,” I murmured, tensing at his focused expression. It looked like he was thinking about something intently. Goosebumps claimed my skin.

“Morning,” he replied, his voice a tired, husky rasp.

His arm was draped over my middle, his injured hand raised up above his head. “Uh, how’s your hand?”

“Sore.”

“Yeah, it’ll probably be a while before it starts to feel better.” I moved to get up but his good hand held me in place.

“Don’t go yet,” he whispered and I stilled. I didn’t know what to say so I simply lay there. It was probably a bad idea sleeping with him last night, but how could I not? He owned my heart. I loved being in his arms. His hand flattened out on my stomach and butterflies flooded my insides. I moved my hips ever so slightly and heard a sharp inhale of breath.

“Trev! Barry’s coming over for a meeting. He’ll be here in ten minutes, so get your arse up,” came Paul’s voice as he banged on the door.

I immediately shifted away. Glancing across the room I saw that Callum’s bed was empty. I flushed at the thought of him coming in last night and finding Trev and me asleep together.

Trev sat up, his hair sticking out in every direction. “Yeah, yeah, okay.”

I tugged the duvet around myself and watched as he pulled on some jeans and a clean T-shirt. While he was distracted spraying his underarms with deodorant I slipped out of the room. Thankfully, my room was empty. I headed into the en-suite and turned the shower on, enjoying the hot spray on my weary body. When I was clean and dressed in some leggings and a light, flower-print summer dress, I joined everyone in the living area.

Barry sat on an armchair talking to the group. A few crewmembers were there, too, but they weren’t filming. I noticed Isaac in the kitchen making tea and gave him a nod. The mood in the apartment was tense and stress radiated from Barry like a tangible force.

I searched in the cupboards for something to eat, at the same time listening to Barry. “I’ve decided not to delay the schedule after all. Callum’s in good enough health to perform and Trevor can be on hand to supervise during the stunts. If he’s feeling up to it we can include him in some of the shots. Even so, his injury won’t hold us back as much as we thought. The accident and accompanying drama will be good fodder for the show. It’ll certainly keep our audience watching.”

I made eye contact with Isaac and he shot me a grin. We were both pretending not to pay attention while we listened to every word. I held up a box of cereal and he nodded, so I poured us both a bowl.

When I glanced up, I noticed Trev studying us. For a second, I thought he might be jealous like he was the other day when I was talking to Paul. But then he spoke and proved me wrong.

“Why don’t we have Isaac fill in for me while my wrist heals?” he suggested. Isaac had a spoonful of cereal halfway to his mouth when he dropped it back in the bowl with a loud clatter.

“Me?” he asked, disbelieving.

“Yeah, you,” said Trev. “We’ve all seen you run. It’ll be nothing to you.”

“But—”

“You free run?” Barry asked, his expression transforming as he studied Isaac like he’d never noticed him before, and he probably hadn’t. The director sized him up, took in the toned lines of his shoulders and his strong legs. Interest marked his features as he likely came to the conclusion that he could use him.

“We’ll give you a trial run. If I like what you do, you can stand in for Trevor until he’s well enough to run again. The rest of you, we’ll be filming street shots today so be ready to go at twelve.” He paused and cast a look at Isaac. “That includes you, kiddo.”

With that he stood and waved for the other crew to follow. Isaac watched them leave, open-mouthed. I smiled and reached over to tip his chin. “If you keep your mouth open like that, something’s gonna fly in.”

“Did . . . did that really just happen?”

“Yep.”

He brought his hands to his cheeks. “Oh, my goodness.”

Trev stood from his place on the couch and strode over to us. “It’s your time to shine, grasshopper. Don’t let me down.”

“I don’t know what to say.”

Trev flashed a handsome smile. “You don’t have to say anything. Just impress the tits off Barry and thank me later.”

* * *

“You ever wonder what our babies would look like?” Trev asked casually, like it was the most normal question in the world.

I was instant-messaging with Marlene, the girl I met after my Paris gig. She worked as a social media specialist and was trying to convince me to create more of an online presence; set up a website, record my songs to sell on iTunes, stuff like that. I wasn’t entirely convinced, but I was open to her ideas. We’d been chatting a lot since she emailed me photos of my gig.

I pulled my attention away from my laptop to look at Trev. He lay stretched out on the couch, eating an apple and watching TV. Since he was still supposed to be resting, he hadn’t gone with the group to film. I offered to stay behind in case he needed anything, which I regretted now. His blue eyes glittered with mischief, like they often did when he asked uncomfortable questions. He relished making people squirm, or maybe he just relished making me squirm.

I sucked in a breath and answered calmly, “No, I can’t say it’s ever crossed my mind.”

He swallowed a bite of apple. “I do, sometimes.”

“That’s nice.” I returned my focus to my laptop.

“They’d be little beauties with blue eyes and a tan.”

I scoffed a laugh. “You’re insane.”

His mouth curved in a smirk as he pointed the remote at me. “You’ve thought about it. I can see it in your eyes.”

Now I laughed louder. “I have not, and I will not. Just consider my mind a blank canvas.”

“Oh, come on, admit it, Reya. You’d love to have my kids,” he prodded playfully.

“You’re being so bloody weird, quit it,” I said and lifted a pillow to throw at his head. He chuckled when it hit him in the face. I cleared my throat, typing a reply to Marlene as I continued under my breath, “Besides, they’re more likely to be pale with brown eyes.”

I chanced a glance at him and he was smiling so wide my heart gave a quick, hard thump.

“Either way, they’d be fucking adorable.”

I shook my head. “I just can’t with you sometimes.”

We fell into companionable silence after that, but something weighed heavy on my mind. I couldn’t stop thinking about how things ended between us two years ago and how maybe I could’ve done things differently.

“Trev, can I ask a question?”

He glanced away from the TV to look at me. “Ask me anything.”

“It’s sort of a heavy subject.”

“I’m good with heavy.”

I rubbed my hands on my leggings, my throat tightening as I met his gaze. “I was just thinking about that last call we had when I broke things off, you know, before.”

His expression darkened and he sat up straight, his shoulders tense. “What about it?”

“Well,” I started, “you don’t know this, but I smashed my phone after we hung up and had to take to get fixed.”

A loaded silence fell. Trev didn’t breathe a word, and somehow, his normally bright eyes looked cloudy. He was remembering that time, which was probably why his voice held such an edge. “I don’t entirely get where you’re going with this, Reya.”

I cleared my throat, needing to get the words out. “It took a few days to be repaired, so when you called and left all those messages, I didn’t see them until long after.”

Another lengthy, deafening silence fell between us. Trev’s face showed a whole range of emotions, from regret to anger to frustration and then the tiniest hint of resignation. My chest tightened to see how the truth affected him. Eventually, he broke the silence.

“C’mere.”

His simple command surprised me. I expected him to be angry, but when I slid my computer off my lap and approached him, Trev held his arms out and I sank into his embrace. His face was in my hair and he inhaled deeply before he murmured, “Why did you feel the need to tell me that?”

“I’m not sure. I think I dreamt about it last night. It’s been weighing on my mind all day. I guess I just wanted you to know that I didn’t intentionally ignore your calls. By the time I saw them, you’d resigned yourself to the fact that we were over. I thought it would be easier on both of us not to drag things out.”

“If you’d said that two years ago, I would’ve fought you on it tooth and nail.”

“I know,” I whispered.

“But then I probably would’ve let you down again.”

“I know that, too.”

“So, although I hate the time we lost, I know it was a necessary evil. If I never lost you, I probably never would’ve sought treatment. Things might’ve ended worse than they did. I might’ve lost you forever.”

I shifted to look at him, and my expression must’ve shown my surprise because his voice held a hint of humour. “Not what you expected me to say?”

“I thought you’d hate me for not calling you when I finally got those messages. It’s literally been eating me up inside.”

He stroked my hair and levelled me with a sincere look. “Reya, I could never, ever hate you. Not in a million years. It pains me to think of how careless I was with you back then. If I hadn’t been so messed up I swear I would’ve treated you like a princess. You had every right to break things off.”

Emotion pricked at me hearing his tenderly spoken words and I snuggled closer. He continued stroking my hair, his hand dropping down to intermittently rub my back. My hands wandered across his shoulders and down to rest at the base of his spine. I thought I felt him shudder but I couldn’t be certain. We stayed like that for what seemed like forever and it was nice to just be held. Touched.

“Have you been writing any new songs lately?” Trev asked, his uninjured hand twisting through my wavy hair.

“One or two.”

“Can I hear something?”

My pulse quickened, because the only song I’d halfway finished writing since I came on this trip was about him. Still, there was something about the moment we shared that made me want to open up.

“I’ll need to set up my keyboard,” I said, shifting out of his hold.

He smiled, the sexy dimples in his cheeks deepening. “I’m not going anywhere.”

A few minutes later we were in Leanne’s and my bedroom. I sat by my keyboard while Trev arranged my pillows to his liking. Once he was comfortable, I played a little tune, but it wasn’t the song I intended. I was stalling, for obvious reasons.

“This song isn’t finished yet. It still needs a few more verses, but it’s, um, well, it’s actually about you.”

“What’s it called?” he asked, slightly hoarse.

I worried my lip and answered, “Hearts on Air.”

His expression showed the tiniest hint of surprise as he leaned back into the pillows, his posture relaxing. It really wasn’t fair how pretty he was. “Sing it for me.”

I shut my eyes, took a deep breath, and played the opening chords. I was so nervous I messed them up and had to start over again. I could imagine Trev’s encouraging, tender smile, which only made me more flustered. Finally, I pulled myself together and sang.

If the violin is a voice

Then the drums are a heart

And the piano is my body and soul

If the air is a street

Then the clouds are a path

And your feet so easily close the distance

You walk on air like it’s concrete

My heart’s on air like it’s incomplete

Then you leap and it’s like I have no breath

I made the mistake of opening my eyes just as I finished the first chorus. Trev sat upright, his attention rapt, his gaze relentless and full of heat. My breath caught and my heart thrummed. I wanted to kiss him. I wanted to fall into his arms and taste his skin, run my hands along every inch of him. I. Wanted. Him. The desire was so strong it was jarring. I stopped playing abruptly and stood, almost knocking over the keyboard stand in the process. My hands shook as I ran them through my hair.

“Trev, I . . . ” I saw hope in his expression, which only confused me further. My heart’s on air like it’s incomplete. Was it foolish to sing those words to him? Was I foolish to think something permanent could happen between us when we hadn’t survived the first time?

I thought that was what was holding me back. But with him in my room, our privacy assured, I didn’t trust myself to not fall into his arms and beg him to keep me there. That wasn’t fair to me or to him. We both deserved more than that.

“Reya,” Trev climbed off the bed and grabbed my wrist. “What’s wrong?”

“Do you mind if I go for a walk for a while?” I asked, not meeting his eyes, not really needing permission either. “You didn’t do anything wrong, Trev. I just . . . need to get out for a bit.”

Otherwise I won’t be able to keep my hands off you.

He blew out a breath, his expression understanding. “No, sure. Go ahead.”

Finally, I looked up. He must’ve seen something in my face because he dropped my hand. I didn’t wait for him to say anything else as I left. I hoped he would understand I wasn’t running, but was processing. Thinking. Daring to hope.

I walked for hours. The city was beautiful and I could’ve explored forever if it weren’t for my stupid feet getting blisters. My heart pounded like I’d just climbed a mountain, but it wasn’t from the walking, it was from the conflicting thoughts running wild inside my head.

I wanted to be with Trev.

I wanted him so bad my skin felt too tight for my body and my lungs constantly ached.

How had I so willingly let myself sink back to square one? I couldn’t even say I had blinders on, because I’d been through it all with Trev so many times before and I knew exactly what I was getting into. The fall with him was always so pleasurable, so exhilarating, that it was almost impossible to resist. You didn’t care about all the precious veins you were destroying as you stuck the needle in your arm, because the high was too good, the stakes too great. He was aware now, though. “If I hadn’t been so messed up I swear I would’ve treated you like a princess.” He understood he’d been careless, and from listening to his Skype call with his doctor the other day, he was determined to not fall into the same habits. He was maturing, growing.

While I sang for him, between one chord and the next, I saw with dawning horror all the same mistakes I was making. At the same time, I didn’t care. I wanted to believe in this new world we inhabited, where he orbited around me rather than the other way around. I held all the power now. With just one crook of my finger I could have him, I knew I could, and yet, I was terrified to take the leap.

I was terrified because maybe, possibly, conceivably I could be happy. And happiness was a stranger, but misery was a dear old friend.