What You Don't Know (Sequel to "Secret Love")(Hunter Hayes/James Marsden)

I Can Explain

WARNING:

This may or may not begin to sound like smut in the middle. IT IS NOT. Don't freak out and slam your laptop shut. This is a VERY important chapter. Just bear with me, and make it to the end. You'll understand, I promise. <3

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Since their kiss in the street, Bethany and Trenton had been acting like a couple. Holding hands, kissing, going on dates, spending a lot of down time together: none of which made her the least bit uncomfortable. For all her reassurances to herself that she was just acting for the benefit of her mission, she was no longer sure if that was the case. In fact, she had not even attempted to bring up Trenton's supposed misdoings in the two weeks since he had returned to New York.

She felt uneasy about her relationship with Trent, especially when she would return to her hotel room and remember the engagement ring nestled in her dresser. She hardly ever thought about Hunter anymore, except when she would see him on the cover of some magazine with Amanda. She knew it was silly, but she still felt betrayed that he was spending so much time with her. They did have a history together, after all.

She knew that she was going to have a lot to regret by the time she returned home to him, and she tried desperately to blame that certainty for her unwillingness to sew things up here. Of course, it did not really matter whether or not she unmasked Trent: she would still have to remain in New York until her job was terminated with Broadway. So what was the harm in taking her time?

She remembered Jeremy Willakers saying something of the sort when she had gone for her weekly meeting three days ago.

"Bethany, it is far better to slow yourself down than to rush into things. If Trenton McDermott is the murderer we believe him to be, he will not be very keen on trusting you, so you'll need to ease him into it. That's bound to take some time. You're doing well. Give it time."

Bethany had her head on Trenton's shoulder, her hand laying on the shelf of his stomach. One of his favorite movies was playing, and was probably half over by this point. She had been so caught up in her own thoughts that she had not even been paying attention to the film. Trenton was running his fingers idly through her hair.

She looked up at him. His ridiculous comb over, his gold-tinted glasses that made him look like a reject from a 50's film, his over-large features: none of them made him very good to look at. So what could she possibly see in him?

She turned in his arms so she could press her forehead to the space between his jaw and shoulder.

"Trenton?"

"Mm?" His reply was just a rumble in the back of his throat, and she smiled.

"Tell me a secret," she whispered.

He laughed. "What do you mean? What kind of secrets do you think I have?"

She kissed his neck playfully, knowing it was his weakness.