Almost Beautiful, page 12
“I’m not being a bitch, and I didn’t fuck one of your brothers!” Once I said the words, I immediately regretted them.
Travis’s expression screwed into disgust. He wasn’t used to me behaving that way, and in truth, neither was I.
The Maddoxes were a broken but beautiful, tightly knit family. There were thousands of similar families in the world, but this one was special. They all loved each other fiercely from such a damaged place. Their sorrow fueled them, and their loyalty was unconditional.
Trenton had just proved it. That Camille would risk endangering what they’d built, over nearly two decades of tears and ashes, made me angry in a way I couldn’t describe.
I covered my face. “I don’t want to do this on your birthday. Please?”
“I didn’t mean that you’re being a bitch. I would never call you that. That’s not what I meant, I’m sorry.”
I touched his face. “Don’t apologize. I know you’re trying to keep the peace.” I crossed my arms. “But I don’t know if I can do what you’re asking.”
“Do you think she meant for any of that to happen? I could understand you hating her if she was maliciously fucking with their heads, but I don’t think that was the case. She isn’t Tommy’s type. I know he loved her—”
“Looks like he still does.”
He sighed. “She’s not his. She’s Trenton’s. They’re perfect for each other. Tommy knew they wouldn’t work out, that’s why he cut her loose.”
“You don’t know any of that.”
His jaw clenched, but he waited a beat to answer. “I know my brother. I’m just asking that you give her a second chance. Let all that go and start fresh.”
I shook my head, looking at the floor. “I don’t know why I’m so angry. If I knew, maybe I could.”
“Because you’re protective of us. And believe me, Pidge, I love you so much for that. But Trenton’s made his choice. Our only job is to support him.”
I nodded. “Okay. Okay, I’ll work on it.”
He kissed my forehead. “That’s all I ask.”
We stepped out of the bathroom and I put my game face on, walking straight to Camille. “Can I get you a water or beer or anything?”
“I’m good for now, thanks,” she said with an awkward smile.
I got the distinct feeling she knew we’d been talking about her.
“What?” she asked, her tone border-line defensive.
“Nothing,” I said. My smile faded. “Travis came home early. I wanted it to be a surprise.”
“Sounds like him,” Camille said with a smirk. Travis joined us and she handed him a bottle of whiskey, a red ribbon tied around its neck. “Happy birthday, anyway.”
Travis kissed her cheek. “Thanks!”
“Hey!” Trenton said, frowning and playfully pushing Travis’s shoulder. “Get your fuckin’ lips off my girl!”
Travis held up his hands. “All right, all right. Just showing my appreciation.”
I grabbed Travis by the hand and brought him to the kitchen, where I sunk twenty candles into the icing of the cake, and then searched the kitchen for a lighter. After opening one drawer after another, I came up empty-handed.
“This is ridiculous,” I seethed. “I’m married to a man who is trying to quit a pack-a-day habit and we have no lighters?”
Travis flicked his lighter and held the flame in front of my face.
I paused, and then snatched it from him and I smiled. “Thank you, my love,” I said quietly.
As I lit the wicks, America turned off the lights.
Travis stood at the breakfast bar over his cake, smiling at the words scrawled with icing on top. He slid his arms around my middle, nuzzling my neck while each new flame flickered.
“Nice cake,” he said, whispering the words on top.
Happy 20th Fucking Birthday, Travis
“Glad you like it. The swearing was America’s idea.”
Travis held up his hand, high-fiving America. “Well done.”
America simply nodded; her arms crossed just above her waist.
Shepley held her, and they swayed playfully as they watched the candles burn. Shepley had the sweetest smile on his face.
I wasn’t sure what he was thinking about, but I knew it involved America.
We sang Happy Birthday, and then Shepley turned up the music.
We danced and drank, ate cake and laughed. It was a perfect evening—even the neighbors left us alone for the most part. The police only showed up for a single noise complaint.
Half of the football team was present, as were most of his brothers from Sig Tau.
Jim, Thomas, Taylor, and Tyler all called at different times, but each time, Travis would go outside to chat with his family.
I kissed Travis every time he left, and all night I was reminded of my birthday, of how sweet he was that night, and how hard I tried not to fall in love with him.
Looking back, my stubbornness seemed like such a waste of time and effort. I was always meant to be Mrs. Maddox. Every turn I’d made, everything that had happened to me—good or bad—had led me to my husband.
At one point, Travis backed me into the hall and curled his fingers behind my neck, impatient to put his warm mouth on mine. He tasted like cheap beer and sugar, and I drew him deeper into my mouth.
Just when I thought he might lift me into his arms and carry me into our bedroom, the rhythm of his mouth slowed. He pulled away, kissed my cheek, and then whispered in my ear. “I’m surprised you haven’t set up shots for me, yet.”
“I didn’t think you were hard up for money.”
“I will be if I don’t get that job.”
I breathed out a laugh. “You’ve got the job. You just have to go in and accept it.”
Travis glanced around the corner, and then returned his attention to me.
“What?” I asked.
“Just making sure they’re not trashing the place.”
“Aw. Listen to you. All grown up.”
Travis frowned. “I’ve never had a party here.”
I thought about it. He hadn’t since we’d met. It hadn’t crossed my mind as to why, but it surprised me that he hadn’t before.
I thought of the first time I’d seen his apartment and remembered thinking that it didn’t smell like the usual college boy dwelling: dirty socks and stale beer. He and Shep kept it picked up and vacuumed.
I was married to the man and realized there were still things about him I didn’t know, simply because I’d never asked.
“What’s that face?” he asked.
“I was just thinking how much I’ve failed at getting to know you.”
He kissed my forehead. “You know me better than anyone else.”
“I didn’t realize you didn’t have any parties here. What other mundane things about your past did I fail to ask about?”
He shook his head. “I don’t care to talk about my life before you, anyway. Everything changed when I met you. And, to answer your question, I didn’t want to have to beat someone’s ass for breaking anything.”
I touched his cheek. “Strictly a love dungeon, huh?”
Travis's face twisted into disgust. “A what?"
I giggled. “Nothing.”
“Oh, you got jokes,” he said, playfully pinching my sides with his fingers.
I ran out into the living room, giggling and hiding behind America. Travis only chased me for a few seconds before a slow song came over the speakers. My favorite song; our song.
Travis pulled me into his arms. We swayed for a few moments before Travis squeeze me tighter against him.
“You sort of told me you loved me the last time we danced to this song at a birthday party,” he said.
“What?” I said, pulling back to look into his eyes. “I don’t remember that.”
He chuckled.
I smiled. “I don’t!”
“Yeah. You were wasted, but you said it. Well, kind of said it. You said that in another life, you could love me.”
I smiled, gazing into his warm, russet irises. I recalled the first time I saw those eyes staring back at me—in the basement of a building on campus. He was sweaty and we were both spattered with blood, but from that moment on, those eyes were my home.
“What did you say to that?” I asked with a smile. “You didn’t run screaming?”
He shook his head, his gaze growing more intense. “I said I might love you in this one.”
“You did?” I asked, touched. That was almost six months ago, and he’d never told me. “I still said it first.”
“No,” he chuckled.
“I mean … I kind of said it first.”
He narrowed his eyes.
“You just admitted it! I said it on my birthday.”
“You kinda said it.”
“According to you, you said you might love me in this one.”
“We both know that was me being a hard ass. You saying you could love me in your next life doesn’t count.”
“Well,” I said, lifting my chin and feeling victorious. “Welcome to our next life.”
He stopped in the middle of the apartment. His shoulders fell, and his eyes poured over me with such love and adoration, my cheeks flushed.
“I’ll be damned,” he said, hugging me to him. He rested his chin in the crook of my neck, causing him to hunch over. “Got my birthday wish before I made it.”
I pressed my cheek against his ear, listening to the words of our song, and taking in the moment. “How weird is it that it’s your first birthday with me, and as my husband.”
“Best birthday to date,” he replied.
“What did you do for your nineteenth?”
“I don’t remember, and even if I did, I know it wasn’t this good. I’m sorry I ruined the surprise.”
“You’re forgiven,” I said with a smile.
“Don’t worry. You have the rest of our lives to try to surprise me.”
“You’re damn straight I do,” I said, hugging him closer. “We have a thousand more surprises ahead of us.”
I closed my eyes. All of them good, I hope.
Chapter Thirteen
Weakness
Abby
“BABY,” TRAVIS SAID, PULLING OFF his jacket and tossing it to the bed. “I said I was sorry.”
“It’s not your fault,” I said, kicking off my heels.
“I’m not fighting in The Circle again, I told you that. But I’m not going to be disrespected, either.”
“I know, Trav.” I walked over and touched his cheek. He leaned into my palm. “It’s not your fault.”
He’d made so many strides to change. Yet, I couldn’t help but feel frustrated for being asked to leave The Red for the second time in as many weeks. Travis was jealous enough when I was just his girlfriend. Now that I was his wife, men would try to buy me drinks right in front of him, make lewd comments on my body, or even—like that night—pat my ass. The level of restraint he’d shown was nothing short of miraculous, but every man had his limit.
“I should’ve just walked away,” Travis said, clearly angry with himself. “Jorie keeps threatening to ban me. One of these days she’s going to do it.”
I unzipped the back of my dress. “Jorie saw it. That guy deserved you kicking his seat out from under him.” He didn’t respond. “They’ll quit, Trav.”
“Maybe we should lay low for a while.”
I nodded.
Travis sighed and unbuttoned his shirt. We undressed in silence, took turns in the bathroom, and then Travis watched me climb into bed next to him.
I crawled beneath the sheets, snuggling up beside him as he stared at the ceiling. “It could be worse. We still have movie nights. Date nights. Mini golf. Rides on the Harley. It seems to only happen at The Red. That just means more alone time together.”
My hands slid over the peaks and valleys of his middle and settled on the bulge below the waistline of his shorts. “We should take these off.”
He didn’t move.
I kissed his neck with small kisses, and when he didn’t respond, I moved my hand and hugged him tight. For the first time, I felt like Travis might not want me.
His life was fun and freedom before me. Now it was mafia, fires, and the constant feeling of needing to protect me. Now, he couldn’t go to his favorite bar.
Knots began to form in my stomach. “Trav?”
“Yeah, Pidge?”
“You promised you would love me forever.”
He breathed like my words had knocked the wind out of him, and then he covered his eyes with his arm. “It’s not that, Pidge. Not even close.” He turned onto his side and wrapped me in both of his arms, squeezing gently.
“Talk to me,” I said against his chest.
“I know you didn’t want this. Now we’re having to stop going to places and you’re going to feel even more trapped.” He squeezed me tighter. “I don’t want you to get tired of everything, of me, and leave.”
I leaned back to look at the tears welling up in his eyes.
He looked down at me. “You’re going to leave me. No matter how hard I try to get this right, you’re going to get tired of my shit.”
I laughed once, shocked.
He frowned, unhappy with my reaction.
“No … I didn’t mean to laugh, I’m sorry, it’s just that … I was just thinking the same thing. That before you met me, your life was easy. Now it’s one thing after another. And not petty fights … like real, scary stuff and I was just worrying you were going to get sick of it.”
“I would never leave you. No matter what happens, there is not one thing from before that I’d rather have than you. But you … you’re not like me.”
I sat up, and he sat up with me, his expression full of worry, like yet again he’d said the wrong thing and I might end it. It was my fault; the entire time we were together I was famous for that very thing.
I took his chin in my hand. “Look at me, Travis Carter. Of course, you’re going to worry. I’ve left you before. More than once. But we weren’t married then, and I wasn’t sure which way was up. I made a decision, I made a promise, and I need you to believe me. You can’t keep worrying about it, it’s going to drive you insane. I will never, ever leave you. Do you hear me? You’re my husband, and I’m your wife. That will never change, Travis. Never. No matter what happens, I’m in this, we’re in this, for life.”
“You made the decision,” he said, still unconvinced. He looked away, the wheels in his head spinning, then he looked down. “But not because it’s what you wanted.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I saw you!” he said, loud enough to startle me. “I saw you.” This time his words were quieter. He sounded broken. He stood up, his fingers interlaced on top of his head. The floor creaked beneath him as he paced. “I saw you on the floor of the casino, on the phone crying to someone.”
As guilt buried me, I couldn’t help but cry. “Oh, my God. Travis, no. It’s not what you think at all.”
Tears spilled over his cheeks, his bottom lip trembling. “And I Iet you do it. I let you marry me knowing you didn’t want to, or at the very least weren’t sure. What kind of piece of shit lets the girl he loves do that? I’m so sorry, Pidge, but I was desperate to keep you. I still am. It consumes every thought I have. Every decision I make. I’ve never been in love before, I don’t know if this is normal or there’s something wrong with me or … I’m doing the best I can, but I … I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing. Pidge … I don’t …”
I sat up on my knees, moving to the end of the bed, reaching for him. “Come here.”
He didn’t hesitate. He immediately crashed into me, holding me tight and burying his face into my neck.
“I swear … I swear to God … I wasn’t crying because I didn’t want to marry you. I was crying because of the fire. Because …” I shook my head, knowing I shouldn’t say more.
He looked up at me. “Who were you talking to?”
“Trent and Cami. They were updating me,” I said. I positioned myself in a way that would force him to look me in the eyes. “It wasn’t because I was doing something I didn’t want to do. I wanted to, more than I can ever explain to you. More than I can explain to me.”
He nodded, wiping his eyes.
“You’ve thought that since Vegas? Why didn’t you tell me?” I asked.
He shook his head, his eyes glossing over again. “Because I was afraid of what you’d say, Pidge. I couldn’t get everything I wanted and then have it ripped away. I know that was a selfish, pussy thing to do, but”—he held his hands out to his sides and then let them fall—“I’m not man enough to tell you if you wanna go, go. Because I don’t want that.”
“I don’t want it, either,” I said, wiping my cheek. Huh. I was wrong that he wouldn’t have let me go through with the wedding if he knew the truth. Still, I couldn’t have risked him saying no. He says that now, but would he have felt differently in the moment? It was a risk I couldn’t take. “Listen to me. I don’t know what I did before you, Travis. And I never want to remember. I don’t.”
He took a deep breath and exhaled. He looked down to the floor, his face crumbling, and then he looked back up at me from under his brow. “You crying on the floor was about the fire?”
I sniffed. “I know it looks bad, but I swear it was. Please, please believe me.”
“And because you were afraid about what might happen when we got back.”
“I wanted to marry you. I love you and I love being your wife.”
He nodded but began to pace again.
“Hearing you talk like this breaks my heart for you,” I said, my voice cracking. “It was earlier than I’d planned, Travis, we both know that, but everything changed when Keaton burned.”
“You knew I’d need an alibi. Just say it, Abby.”
I sighed. “It created an alibi for you, okay? That’s a symptom, not the cause. I married you because I love you. I’ll say it a million times if I have to. I was certain, about everything. That’s why I asked you to marry me.”
“Thank God,” he breathed out. He walked over to me and held my face with both hands. His lips and hands were trembling, but he put his lips on mine. I opened my mouth, more than willing to feel his tongue against mine. Just ten minutes before I’d thought he was having second thoughts, but the way he was pulling at me, the relief made the usual butterflies I felt do full-fledged somersaults all over my body.
