Trevor swallowed a groan as he finished off the last of his champagne. Thankfully a waiter was passing by, so he switched his empty glass out for a full one before turning to face the woman purring his name.
"Misha," he responded with a tight smile.
"Do you want to dance?" she asked, swishing her hips suggestively. Trevor knew from her tone that there was a lot more to her invitation than she was saying out loud.
Like Misha Crawford, most of the women he'd grown up with were eager to pursue Trevor since his transformation over the years. But he had a rule not to get involved with any women in the town. 
Coalton was way too small and everybody was in everybody's business way too much for his taste. Plus when things went bad, he would still have to see that person. When he cut ties with a woman, he had no desire to see her again. He'd had his fair share of women over the years, he was a nerd, not a monk. But none of them held his interest for long. Because none of them were the one woman who'd held his heart for a lifetime.
"Sorry Misha," Trevor said politely. "Maybe another time."
There was only one woman in all of Coalton he wanted to dance with. And she was making her way out onto the terrace.
"Excuse me," he said, brushing past Misha.
Damn, he thought to himself as he admired Brooke's body. Carrying two children had given her curves she hadn't had when she was a young girl. It was clear she worked out by her toned arms and legs, as well as her flat tummy and narrow waist. But her hips were much more round, and her ass...
He could imagine gripping it as he moved in and out of her, until she screamed his name. He took a sip of the champagne, attempting to cool off before approaching her. But sensual thoughts of Brooke filled his head. They'd been haunting him since the first day she'd gotten back into town. 
Finally, he stepped onto the terrace and shut the door behind him.
"You still owe me a dance."
Brooke yelped and clutched her hand to her chest.
"You scared the living daylights out of me."
He took a step toward her. "You always did scare easily."
"You would remember that about me after all these years."
He stopped a few feet away from her. "I remember everything about you. I even remember our first kiss."
He wasn't sure what made him bring that up. Perhaps it was the way her lips were pursed at him, all shiny in that lipstick that matched her dress. They were calling out to him.
Brooke rolled her eyes. "We were two years old. You shoved me against the wall and devoured my face."
Trevor brought his body inches within hers. He took a deep breath, taking in her scent. There were tones of it he remembered, that brought back memories from days gone by. But the scent had evolved over time. It was now the scent of a woman. And it was driving him crazy with desire.
"Sweetheart I'd love to put you against a wall again...and devour much more than your face."
He heard the catch in her voice at his bold statement before she turned her head up to look at him.
"Who are you?" she asked.
"I'm more than some science geek," he murmured, looking away. He hadn't meant for that to come out, and not so bitter. He needed to ease up off the champagne for the evening.
Brooke's eyes thinned to slits. "So this...this change is because of me? To prove a point?"
"No, Brooklyn," Trevor said. "This change wasn't because of you. It was for me. I grew up. It happens."
"Your demeanor is different."
"Crazy what a little bit of confidence will do."
Brooke looked down into her champagne flute with a look of remorse on her face. "About that 'nothing but a science geek' comment. I owe you a long overdue apology."
"You don't owe me anything."
"But I do..." she said, raising her head up to look him in the eyes, and lifting her hand to his chest.
Her fingers touching him sent a jolt of awareness straight to his groin. Brooke seemed to be just as flustered. She eyed her fingers splayed across his chest. After moving her lips several times, words finally came out. "The things I said that night. I was so horrible to you, after you'd been an amazing friend to me all of our lives."
He grabbed her hand and wrapped his fingers around hers. "I lost my best friend that night," he said.
"And I lost mine." She closed her eyes. "I should have listened to you about Clark, Trevor." She tried to move away, but he tightened his grip on her hand, pulling her body back to his.
"We were kids then, young and naive."
"Do you think...do you think we could start over?" she asked.
"I think we can," Trevor said, nodding. "But things won't be like they were when we were kids."
"Then how will they be?"

It was easier for him to show her rather than tell her. So, like he'd done when he was merely two years old, he pushed her against the wall, and devoured her face.

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