Trespassing

Ava's POV

"Oh my God," Valerie joked when I sat by her. "Ava? Is it you or am I having daytime dreams again?"

"Ha, ha, ha." I rolled my eyes with a grin. "Thomas and I aren't attached at the hip. We do things apart." During school hours we did spend every possible minute together. Mostly in the terrace.

My friend winked a bronze eye.

"Last time I saw you without him we were shopping for his birthday present." True. "Did he like it?"

I nodded getting my geography stuff out, ready for study hall. Ever since Valerie covered for me with mom, we'd become closer. She didn't act all superior with me, like when Brenda and Kelly were hanging about. Deep down, I think this It girl was sick and tired of having people ogling her for ulterior motives.

Tired of pretending.

I was copying some notes onto a clean page when she nudged me.

"How's it been? Dating Harrington for a month?" a silly smile broke out. "That good, huh?"

Better than good. "He's... not like they say he is. We connect on many levels." Friend or not, telling about the real-Thomas seemed wrong. I wanted to save that. "Trip's a good guy."

Valerie gave an honest smile, "That's great. There're a lot of pigs out there." Her eyes slit into a void before taking up their shiny tone. What just happened? "Doing something special tomorrow?"

My brow furrowed—oh. My birthday.

Which reminded me... "I'm glad you asked. I have a favor to ask." A thin eyebrow jumped. "Thomas wants to surprise me over at his house, he says I have to spend the night... Can I tell my mom I'm going to sleep over your place?"

"Sure, I've got you covered." Yes! "Spend the night...?" her mind was far inside the gutter already.

"We know when to stop, okay? Nothing like that happened. Yet." She made a jiggly motion with her shoulders, squirming in the chair. I slapped her arm laughing. "Don't let Brenda see you like that, she'll be angry at you for stealing her light."

Val shrugged, "I don't want her spot light. What's so great about being the school's men-eater? Pass." Rumor was, Brenda had made out with every senior but Finn and Thomas.

My will for locations and latitudes diminished as we got talking about Gabriel and her. They'd met at the spring fashion show—again—Valerie seemed interested in him. I hadn't seen her interested in a single Joe before. She'd said something about a complicated relationship once. How had that turned out? Bad was the most likely scenario, she never talked about it.

Thomas was with Finn on the bleachers, practice was running hard with the coach calling out curses that could make nurses jump off a church.

"I ordered the new Starter, it'll be purring in less than a week—" Boy talk. Boring. "Hey you," Thomas greeted when I slipped my arms around him.

"Hi," I kissed his cheek and smiled at Finn who was deciding if he should go or stay. "What are you talking about?"

"Cars," he smirked at my disappointment. "Aw, did you think I was telling Finn about tomorrow night's surprise?"

Kinda hoping. "No."

"Liar," he teased poking my nose. "You're dying to know." Wasn't telling him. "My Porsche's going to be ready next week. Wanna know who I'm taking for a ride?"

"Finn?" I said and he looked youthfully hopeful.

Trip laughed, "Before Finn,"

"I don't think I'm comfortable riding in a car you repaired on your own." No matter how much Ms. Coleman bragged Thomas' skills.

Finn piped in, leaning into the bench, "He's been working at my dad's garage. He supervises the whole thing from time-to-time."

I frowned at Tom, "That's new information."

He gave a one shoulder shrug. "I have to do something while you're not around." But you never told me, I wanted to say. Than felt it would be too bitchy. "Mad?"

"Nope," I got up, sitting in front of him. He parted his legs so I'd fit; Thomas rounded my waist, my back felt the ridges of his toned muscles. "Ready for today?"

I heard him groan. Yeah, I wasn't keen on going back after three weeks with no Ms. Coleman.

"You going to get grumpy?" I leaned up, watching the blue of his eyes twinkle. "Thomas?"

"Maybe," he pressed a kiss to my head. "You don't have to work today, right?" I shook my head, thanking God for the day off.

I wasn't sure how much longer I could take of Miss Abuser. It was bad enough that she kept telling me how to pose and how to walk at every turn—but knowing she'd bond my boyfriend and took his virginity for some sick ploy?

I had more self-control then I'd ever given myself credit for.

"Need a room?" Finn half-grinned. Thomas kicked his leg playfully. "Just saying. Don't you usually go to the terrace before getting all lovey-dovey?"

"Look who's being funny today." I boosted with a silent laugh. When I'd first met Finn he had some serious confidence issues. Lately, he'd become a little more open. I suspected Trip was rubbing off on him. "Dig the new haircut." Finn's blond hair had changed from medium swept bangs to an indie-style. Lightly ruffled, showing angst in artistic perfection. He looked older, rocking cute and beyond.

He averted the slate-gray eyes, cheeks hinting at a flush.

"Aww, blushing, Matthews?" Thomas teased nudging his friend's knee. "Man, you need to learn how to take a compliment from a pretty lady." I rubbed my fingers above Trip's hands, smiling shyly. "Ava's right. Nice change, now you don't look like a twelve-year old."

Finn eyeballed Thomas with disbelieve.

"I looked like a twelve-year old!?"

I tried muffling my laughter—it just exploded along with Trip's. It was a good thing he kept a steady hold or I would've rolled down the stands.

"Yeah... yeah, you did." Thomas coughed stopping chuckles.

"And you never told me?"

"I didn't know it was my job to look after your public image." Finn rolled his eyes. "Chill out, man. It wasn't that awful of a look. I bet girls found it..."

"Innocent," I helped out.

"That," Thomas nodded with a serious face. He wanted to laugh so badly.

The blond slumped down, "Innocent... great." He muttered sulking.

***

When we sat in Ms. Coleman's office we were porcelain dolls. Nothing moved. I think we weren't breathing.

"You two look stiff."

Understatement.

Our shrink hadn't rearranged a single portrait. It felt like nothing had changed, that we were having our first session ever, but all had taken a spin.

"You make a very cute couple!" Was it right for an adult to be so excited? Me and Trip shared a pointed look. "Ah, well I had to get that off my chest. The follow-up day to that fashion show I swooned. I like to think that my methods played a tiny part in your getting together." She had no clue. "I can't believe I helped Thava happen."

My skin heated. Had she just said that...? Magazines had been calling us that—Marcy had rung me with the shrieky news. She said it was our shipping name. I think everyone was taking this a little too far. Okay, a lot. I never liked attention, so, it wasn't much of a surprise that I didn't care about what they were calling me and Trip.

"Do you want applause?" Thomas muttered sarcastically, ready to clap his hands.

I kicked his leg, he side-glared me. I let out a sigh, sometimes he was so grouchy.

Lydia rewarded him with an amused smile. "Good to see your sense of humor is still intact, Trip. Now, let's get on with business." Her hand patted a folder on her desk. There were always two folders—mine, and Trip's. Today, there was only one. The thinner one—mine. "Ava, would you mind if Thomas stepped outside for today?"

She was using his name? Ms. Coleman never did that, except when it was really important. My stomach was kicking around the leftovers from lunch.

"Huh..."

"She does, she minds terribly." He snapped into defensive mode, tilting forward, no longer lazily slumped.

In the last few days my patience for trouble had been diminished. Not confronting Catherine took all of my will and determination, same went for when Giselle exchanged a few words with me.

I wasn't putting up with a discussion here.

"No, it's okay. Go, I'll be fine." My tone was short, slightly clipped. Like the one I used when we'd met.

A muscle in Thomas' jaw jumped. I didn't like talking with him this way, but it worked. Breathing out, he grabbed his jacket off the chair, slipping it on. I looked over my shoulder when Thomas walked to the door and gave a small, apologetic smile.

Trip didn't return the smile, his face relaxed, though. I knew he wasn't angry.

"What's so important that you need me alone?"

"Well," Ms. Coleman started, crossing her fingers below her chin. "I wanted to talk to you about Thomas—" my eyes jumped like frogs. "Relax. I'm not going to prob you for deep information. All I want you to do, is answer yes or no. Is that okay with you?" I hesitated. "It's important, Ava. Yes or no, okay?"

I nodded. Lydia smiled that gentle smile a mother should carry around.

"Alright then! Would you say Trip has been keeping out of trouble lately, since he met you?" I nodded solemnly. "Has he talked about his parents with you?"

"Yes,"

"Good," she wrote something down on a sheet of paper shadowed from my view. "This will be his last time here—as a patient, I mean. He's more than welcome to visit—"

"What?" I yelped nearly falling off my seat. I looked at Lydia like she was nuts.

In return, her amused gaze turned serene, comprehensive and more professional. Leaning back on the office chair, crossing a leg, she met me with gray eyes.

"Listen, honey," she started softly. "I know you must think my methods are highly strange. Crazy even. When I put you and him together I probably violated patient confidentiality." She cut a chuckle short seeing my wide eyes. "The truth is, I didn't graduate from Harvard because of my great personality. I studied hard, but in my career years I've learned the best form of therapy sometimes is to be human. Most of my colleagues don't see patients for what they are—people. They see them as paychecks."

"You and Thomas are just kids. You were dumped here by your parents because they think you have some brain disorder or rage attacks." Well... not occasionally. "After my first meeting with Trip there was no doubt in my mind that his problem were his parental. Whether he was doing it to get their attention or to get payback for something in the past—I don't know. In our first session your mother wouldn't stop calling and texting you." My mouth opened slightly. "Yes, I was paying attention." She grinned. "The point became clear to me. You two suffered from problems with the same origin. Family."

"To Thomas I was just another shrink for his collection, he's been to many, as I'm sure you know." I said nothing, but my hands twisted in my lap. "You were scared, not knowing if you should trust me." She shrugged. "I thought Thomas was more likely to open up to a stranger—one his age—then another professional." Lydia tucked a piece of hair away, leaning on her elbows. "My question is going to be direct, Ava. It worked didn't it?"

I almost lost my cool front when she asked.

"Yes, or no, sweetie."

That couldn't hurt, right? "Yes."

With a beaming smile she went on, "I thought so. He hasn't caused any disturbance at the new school, he hasn't been spotted in any party, drinking, gambling or... other illegal activities." I think she was talking about drag-racing. "You've helped him a lot, honey, you know? He has gone months with a clean slate. That hasn't happened in two years." Two years... I knew why and didn't blame him. "I knew from day one he wouldn't trust me. Thankfully, he trusts you." I felt grateful that he did. "And that's why I'm going to talk to his father and say he no longer needs therapy." Lydia smiled wryly at me. "Not with me, but he won't know that."

I found my lips etching into a silly grin. But then, her face took a turn.

"Which brings me to you, sweetie." Her palm fell over my inch-thick folder. "Your problem is clear. You're a model and you hate it. You're tired of living your sister's life. But you keep doing it... you've said once that if you didn't your family would fall apart?" I looked away. "I think Thomas would gladly give his help, Ava, yet you're still a model." I never had much choice in it, now it was worse. If I quit it would end our relationship and... Thomas would be forced to go back and have sex with random girls.

"I haven't found the right time." I wanted to tell him. Everything. More than the little confessions I'd dropped on my sessions with Lydia, but...

"I'm not sure there is one, honey." She stated and I suddenly felt everything closing in. I wanted to get out of her office. Wanted to leave. "It's your choice, though. You can choose to keep having sessions—alone—or you can decide to quit. After all, your parents sent you to me so I'd analyze your destructive motives. We already know what triggered that."

Nodding, I made my choice.

***

Saturday went pretty normal. My birthday didn't affect my studying during the afternoon. Dad left me one of those cards that played music and mom called from the clinic wishing happy birthday.

Nothing new.

When night came and I was parked in front of Thomas' mansion, my excitement was off the wall. It was what I'd been waiting for all day. This moment. With him. I'd told mom I was staying with Valerie and immediately she'd been okay with it. Dad didn't even get a say in it.

Shifting from foot to foot, I rang the doorbell not surprised by Lawrence. He smiled.

"Happy birthday, Ms. Wellington." I blushed as he let me through.

"Thank you," I gave him my jacket—he insisted on hanging it for me. "But please call me Ava." That made him chuckle.

Just then, fast steps came from upstairs and my breath escaped me. Thomas' strong biceps curled around my waist, my slim shoulders pressed into the hardness of his chest. The proximity left me soaring.

"Happy birthday, baby." He whispered nuzzling my ear and kissing a soft spot on my neck—my flush grew. "Happy birthday," he whirled me around, pecking my lips before I could say a word— "Happy birthday," I smiled as he kissed me again, longer.

He said it again. Actually, he wished 'happy birthday' for the total of eighteen times, sealing each one with a kiss. They got longer. Sweeter.

Before I lost control in the hall of his home, I pushed his chest, looking up with an arched brow.

"So many happy birthdays...?"

Smiling coyly, Trip ran his knuckles along my cheek, eyes looking irresistibly warm and caring. He leaned close and whispered, "For every one I missed until today." My bones liquefied. I would've fallen if it wasn't for his arm. "I'll never miss another one."

"Thomas..."

There was a cough from somewhere behind us. I thought it was Lawrence telling us we were being inappropriate or something, but looking beyond my boyfriend I saw a man dressed in a fine suit. One of those you saw on millionaire business men.

Trip was slow to look over, when he did, I felt him tense a fraction.

"Dad. You're home." He sounded genuinely surprised.

"I got here five minutes ago, my meeting ended early." His father's voice was polite, but strong.

His hair was the same as Trip's, but graying on the temples. The forehead registered some lines from constant worry and age. As he came closer, his hazel eyes drift to me.

"Huh... okay." Thomas mumbled. Apparently it wasn't normal for his father to come home so early. "This is my girlfriend, Ava." He gestured stiffly to me.

I edged toward Thomas' side, forcing my gaze to meet his dad's as I smiled.

"Ah," Mr. Harrington mused, stretching out a hand. "So you're Ava, I'm pleased to finally meet you. Thomas has never introduced a girlfriend before, you see."

"Not that you'd be around..." I pinched his back shutting his mouth.

Thomas' father shifted the attention to his son.

"I got a call from Ms. Coleman yesterday," there was a twinkle in his eyes. "She says you no longer need to have sessions. She's confident that you've... gotten over your problems whatever they were." Thomas hung back a little stunned. Not because of the news. He'd already known. I think it was because of the smile breaking across Mr. Harrington's face. "I'm glad she was able to help."

Blinking, Trip shrugged loosely, "Yeah, she's a nice lady and all." As a moment of awkward staring ended, he cleared his throat. "Huh, it's Ava's birthday today. We were going upstairs for a...—"

"Yes, yes. Go," his father dismissed us with a light wave and a batch of good humor. "Happy birthday, Ava."

"Thank you, Mr. Harrington." I managed, as my boyfriend pulled me upstairs. When we were in the hallway leading to his bedroom-suite I commented, "He didn't seem so bad. He actually seemed happy for you."

Thomas leaned on the closed door, tugging me closer by the wrist.

"Let's not talk about parents or shrinks—or the fact you still have to go." He groaned at the thought. I shook my head. "Why would you want that, Ava? You could've gotten out, you could've—"

I placed a finger to his lips. "What happened to no talking about shrinks?" his eyes closed briefly, when I saw them again, they were filled with jumping excitement. "Should I close my eyes...?"

He grinned nodding, unlocking the door behind him. I felt his warm hand wrap around my arm, leading me. A few steps in, I felt myself shiver. Why was it suddenly so cold? The door closed; a click told me we weren't going to be disturbed.

"Open them."

My eyes fluttered before I got a good look at the suite. The balcony was closed, shutters down on every window. The few lit lights were set on low creating a cozy environment. Trip walked toward the couch area and my eyes widened.

There were plenty of fluffy, cuddly-looking mantles—fur ones; on the coffee table was a bucket of chicken from KFC, an abnormally large bowl of popcorn and numerous hot-dogs. Oh, and a tall pitcher with OJ.

"You said once..." he began, sweeping hair away. "That the perfect date-night would be staying home, cuddling on the sofa while watching movies and eating junk food..." Thomas went on when I didn't say a word. "And I remember you saying something about making out in front of a fireplace—well, there's no fireplace here, but I lowered the room's temperature and got these." He waved at the blankets, looking all sorts of vulnerable.

I took it all in one more time. With all the windows covered it felt like we were inside our private world. Just us.

"I can't believe you remembered all that." I whispered, blinking down tears. I didn't want him to think I didn't like this. "It's... you're so..." I shook my head.

Thomas stood in front of me, smile creeping in.

"The word 'amazing' springs to mind." He gloated and I slapped his shoulder laughing lively, then took his face smoothing my fingers down their planes. "You like it?"

"I love it." I kissed him swiftly. "You're wonderful." He frowned pitifully, resembling a kicked puppy. I giggled. "Fine. You're a very extraordinary, thoughtful, amazing boyfriend." And I'm the luckiest girl in the world.

Slipping his arms around me, Thomas pulled me to the couch. We laughed the entire time while getting the furs settled, wrapped around our bodies. Thomas' arm wrapped me against him under the hot blankets. It felt like we were in some ski chalet. The room was cold, but it was warm hiding under the covers. Could there be a more perfect setting? Trip moved the table closer and we started off by eating the chicken—my fav. He gave me the remote so I'd browse Netflix. I let Trip eat most chicken pieces, I wanted to save room for popcorn.

During Confessions of a Shopaholic, I found it ironic that someone who hated brands—namely me—found it so funny.

I popped a popcorn into Thomas' mouth, he kissed my head.

I glanced up, "Do you speak Prada?" I asked between giggles.

"Sure," he smirked mockingly. "Dolce, too. I find it very important to speak different clothing-brands. Colleges insist on it."

"Have you watched this before?" he made a face. "Huh, didn't think so. I did."

His head tipped, "It is funny." Thomas confessed. Our hands met in the bowl and I rubbed my head into his side, we were lying down already. "Not that I'd like to get slapped with a fan while dancing. I hope you're dancing skills aren't as deadly."

I flicked a popcorn to his face. "Who says I watched it for the comedy? Luke's very sexy, he's got that accent..." I batted my lashes to rile him up.

Those sapphires pierced me through and through. Thomas sat up, forcing me back a bit, and that tousled hair called to me. His face was hard with determination. To hell with the actor. I put the bowl on the table—for later—and crawled up to Trip's lap. That had been the plan, at least. I found my wrists firmly gripped, not in a bruising hold, though. Thomas reversed our stances.

"You want a sexy accent? I can give you that." He spoke in that Brit accent he'd used back on our trip to Boston. My legs lifted, wanting to wrap around Thomas as he leaned down, mouth hovering my neck. "I can give you whatever it is you want, whatever you need—I'll deliver. Understand?"

Oh. I did. I arched as his breath rolled above my skin. Ever so slowly, Trip ran just his nose tip down my heavily pulsating artery. My body lifted off the couch, I was desperate for more contact—I wanted my hands free!

"Tell me what you want, baby..." he whispered sultrily.

"You—I want you." His fingers let go one by one. A smirk painted his lips when my hands dove for his hair, making what they wanted of it. My lips were fast on his, tracking heat everywhere just like the hands slipping under my top. "You're so romantic," I got out while he pulled me onto his lap— "Hot... and sweet... Oh, Thomas—"

Trip's hands touched my breasts over the bra. I wiggled closer, pushing them into his hands. Thomas kissed down the line of my neck, the curve of my shoulder, nipping at the same time he cupped them gently.

"You're..." Talking was over. I could tell him all the ways he turned me on like a furnace in Alaska later.

I took off the blue top and reached for his T-shirt, grasping the edges to fling it away. I bit a lip corner running my palms down those strong abs that were reserved for cover models. Closing in, I kissed his clavicle, down the center of his chest—when I found the happy trail leading into his pants, my tongue came out to play.

Thomas fell back, I followed, monopolizing his attention. I liked when he did a sound that started deep in his chest—hmm, there it was. Trip shivered as my fingers played over the button of his jeans.

Should I pop it?

His hands took care of that call. Thomas took them to his face, kissing each palm, breathing shallowly.

"Not ready," he mumbled already massaging my spine, fingers itching to snap off my bra. How the hell did he know I wasn't ready? "You would've... taken them off... no thinking 'bout it..."

Guess he did know—and sweet mother of Jesus. His voice had gotten so raw...!

Down the road, the furs had been thrown off. My bra, too. We were both bare chested and I felt very self aware; not embarrassed because I knew I looked good. I was on a diet 24/7, controlled by mom herself. But... it was the first time any guy saw the twins. Thomas toyed around building a peaking fire, making me feel closer to an explosion.

My hands grasped his shoulders, he hoisted my hips against his, they smacked, shaping together. I leaned my forehead to Trip's letting out a sharp gasp as I broke clawing my nails into his olive skin. Thomas drew breaths one after another like he'd felt my release. His eyes shone into mine, half-slit and glossy. I never wanted his eyes to move from mine. They saw inside my heart.

He embraced my waist and lowered us onto the couch, on our sides. I found strength to tug a blanket from the floor, covering us. Even if we were sweating. It took several minutes before I could speak. Thomas was contently toying with my chocolate hair. My finger bumped a forming hickey between his shoulder and neck.

"Whoops," I whispered.

"Did you give me a love mark?" he asked amused. I nodded bitting down a smile. "How bold, Rosy. Now I'll have eyes on my neck for a week."

My lips pecked the spot lightly, sending a shiver up his spine.

"It's a very beautiful neck." I wrapped an arm over him. "But it's mine." I kissed his throat making him chuckle loudly.

"Yes, yes it is. I'm all yours, baby." He murmured tightening the hold.

Minutes felt like hours, but time didn't matter as we stayed in our warm corner. I traced circles on his arm, placing a kiss every now and then on his chest.

"You know how they say we don't choose who we fall in love with?" my voice was small, soft.

Trip nudged my nose smiling faintly. "What about it?"

"Well, I think that's true..." I leaned my head on his shoulder admiring my reflection on his blue gems. "I don't think we have a choice when it comes to feelings. We can't choose who we love. But..." my lips brushed his. "If I had a choice? I'd still choose you."

Thomas closed his eyes tasting my mouth in the sweetest kiss ever known to mankind.