Almost Beautiful, page 6
Parker swallowed, and then rolled up the window halfway. “Pussy car? How about your pussy dog?! Nice sweater!”
“This dog takes shits bigger than you.”
“She’s going to leave you, Travis. Abby’s going to realize what she’s done, the new is going to wear off, and she’s going to leave you, and I want to see that arrogant smile wiped right off your face when she does.”
I took a step forward, my muscles tensed and ready like they were just before a fight in The Circle. I knew if I threw one punch I wouldn’t stop, but in that moment killing Parker was the only thing that was going to make me feel better.
“Get out of your fucking car. Right now.”
Parker hid himself behind the dark tint of the window, and then drove away.
I stood with my hands in fists, my entire body trembling with anger. Toto nuzzled his nose against my jeans, and I looked down. Adrenaline absorbed back into my system as my gaze fell to his expectant eyes.
He was cold before we began our walk; now he was shivering like I was. He sniffed and kicked back a few tufts of grass like he owned the place.
I smiled. “Yeah. You woulda destroyed those skinny ankles. Pussy dog, my ass.”
I scooped him up and took him inside. The second I set him down, he trotted off to my bedroom, probably curling up on his bed for his afternoon nap.
I grabbed my wallet, phone, and keys, and headed out the door and down the stairs, sliding behind the wheel of the Camry. Even though I inhaled to breathe in the new car smell as deeply as I could, anxiety washed over me. My knuckles turned white under the pressure of my grip on the steering wheel.
Abby’s last class wasn’t over for another hour, and I was itching to vent about Brandon and Parker. Something white caught my eye, and I looked down between the seats. I reached down, fishing out the envelope that contained my mom’s letter to my future wife; to Abby. I gently set it on the passenger seat, and put the gear into reverse and backed out, driving toward Dad’s.
The streets on the way to the home where I grew up were filled with potholes and lined with dilapidated houses with broken down vehicles sitting in the yards. Dad’s placed wore chipped paint and broken porch boards and shutters, but it was where I threw my first punch and caught my first fist in the mouth.
That overgrown grass was where Thomas used to hold me back so my brothers wouldn’t beat my ass because I wouldn’t give up. And where Trenton would try to mow down anything standing between him and me—even Thomas.
I smiled as I turned into the drive, the gravel crunching beneath the tires.
Dad pushed open the screen door and rested his hands on his round middle, watching me approach the porch with an appreciative smile on his face. “Well, well,” he said. “I didn’t think I’d see you around here for a while.”
“I’m three miles away,” I said, climbing the steps to the weather worn wooden slats that made up the porch.
Dad patted me on the shoulder, and I brought him in for a hug.
“Your mom and I didn’t leave the house for three weeks after the wedding.”
“Dad,” I scolded. My face twisted into disgust, and I stepped past him into the living room to the couch.
Dad chuckled, closing the door behind us. “This weather is a son-of-a-bitch,” he grumbled. He took a peek outside the small glass square near the top of the front door, and then shook his head, waddling to his recliner.
He sat on the edge, leaning forward with his elbows resting on his knees. “Whatcha got there?” He gestured to the white envelope in my hand.
I lifted it a few inches, surprised at how nervous I felt.
Dad didn’t talk about Mom a lot. Not that he tried not to, but I could still see the emptiness in his eyes—the same way I would feel if I ever lost Abby.
“It’s a letter.”
“The, uh, the one Mom left you?”
I nodded. “I gave it to Abby before the wedding.”
“I’d hoped you’d remember.”
“I did.”
“Good,” he said, clearing his throat. “Good.”
“Do you want to read it?”
He shook his head. “It wasn’t for me.”
I pulled out the thin paper from the envelope, my eyes tracing Mom’s delicate handwriting. “I know. It’s kind of like hearing from her again. It reads just the way I remember her.”
He looked surprised. “You remember her?”
I nodded. “It’s fuzzy, but yeah. Bits and pieces.”
Dad thought about it for a moment, and then nodded, waving his hand toward him. “Okay, then. Bring it over.”
I jumped up, handed the paper to Dad, and then returned to my seat on the couch.
Dad blinked a few times, trying to focus, and then, seeing her words on paper, his bottom lip began to tremble. He rested his chin on his hand to try to mask his emotion, but then he blinked several times, and his eyes began to gloss over. A smile touched his mouth, he shook his head and chuckled once.
Dad lowered the letter with one hand, and then wiped his eyes with the other. After a full minute, he cleared his throat and then looked up at me.
“It’s been a long time. It was good to hear her voice again. Even if it was just in my head. Thank you, son.”
I nodded. “I miss her, too. All the time.”
He laughed again, wiping another escaped tear. “I miss her every moment of every day. For damn near seventeen years. And the way you look at Abby”—he sighed—“that’s the way I looked at your mother. My God, did I love that woman. I’d never felt anything like that before ... and never since.”
My eyebrows pulled in. “Do you think I’m going to lose her, Dad?”
“Abby?”
I nodded.
Dad touched his lips with his fingers, and then looked down at the floor.
I couldn’t move or breath while I waited for the answer.
He finally leaned forward again and looked me straight in the eyes. “Travis, I hate to break this to you son ... but your wife? She’s stronger than you. You’d leave her before she’ll leave you.”
His words knocked the wind out of me, and after I couldn’t keep my expression straight or my eyes dry, I covered my face, letting the relief wash over me in waves.
Dad was never wrong, and I trusted him with my life.
I looked up at him. Because I loved my wife, I was going keep the truth from him. And because of the love he’d felt for my mom, I knew Dad would understand.
Chapter Seven
First Breath
Abby
ADVERTISEMENTS CLUTTERED THE CORK BOARD next to the exit of Reiger Hall, all with headers like For Sale, In Search Of, and Help Wanted, and at the bottom, numbers cut into strips. An ad near the top had official school letterhead and a list of subjects.
I narrowed my eyes, read the fine print, and then ripped off a tab and put the phone number in my pocket. The school was looking for tutors and Calculus was one of the subjects.
Halfway into second semester, and the books and supplies in my backpack were weighing me down, cutting into my shoulders. I didn’t realize I’d be married and looking for a job when choosing my classes before winter break. I hopped a bit as I took my first step toward the exit, trying to shift the straps to give the indentions next to my neck a break.
The early spring air hit my face the moment I stepped onto the concrete steps outside. Coats in every style and color peppered the sidewalks, a patchwork setting students apart from our gray surroundings. I looked up at the sky, feeling mist instantly cover my face. It had either poured or spat rain all day. The morning fog was just beginning to move on.
“Hey!” America yelled, jogging toward me. She waved, her bright smile the only sunshine. She stopped in front of me, holding the loose straps of her backpack at her chest, breathing hard. “The sorority girls are going nuts. I love it.”
“What do you mean?”
“About Travis and you. Everyone’s talking about it. I got to tell Alexis she was a jealous twat. To her face. It was amazing.”
I felt my cheeks flush. “Great.”
I continued down the sidewalk and America followed, beaming with pride.
“Not even half believe it.”
I stopped abruptly. “Believe what? That we’re married? Or that he married me?”
She shrugged. “Both.” When she realized I was offended, she back peddled. “But, c’mon. Look at you. Of course he did. I mean, it’s Travis. No one thought he’d ever get married. To anyone.”
I looked down at my less-than-special plaid flannel shirt and olive-green vest, skinny jeans and tall, brown boots. My hair was damp and in a high, messy bun. I couldn’t remember if I’d bothered to put on makeup before leaving the apartment or not. I looked around, noticing people’s lingering, curious stares.
Someone whistled, and I turned, watching the sea of students part to reveal Travis walking toward me.
He was strutting down the center of the walkway, his hands in his jean’s pockets, wearing a gray beanie, a black and white Ramones T-shirt under an open red and black flannel button down. His black leather boots added just that extra Don’t fuck with me, I’ll end you to the look.
Even with a wedding ring on his finger, the coeds stopped to stare. His perfect jawline, the dimple, his flawless stride—Travis was beautiful. An overabundance of sex and charm radiated from him without effort.
It wouldn’t surprise me if he started walking in slow motion with Sweetie’s My Type playing from somewhere.
“Look at that,” I said. “That’s why people don’t believe it.”
“You’ll have beautiful children, I’ll give you that,” America said. “And look. So cute. Y’all married with matching flannels.”
I frowned. “They’re different colors.”
One side of Travis’s mouth turned up, his right brow lifted the tiniest bit, and I swallowed, feeling butterflies in my stomach.
He stopped a couple feet away, staring at me with the same look on his face as when the officiant in Vegas said man and wife. Travis didn’t even have to say he loved me, I could see it in the way he looked at me, the way he moved, hear it in the way he spoke, even if what he was saying had nothing to do with me.
He breathed out a laugh, noticing my expression. “What is going on in that head of yours?”
I shook my head and threw my arms around his neck. “I’m good,” I said softly, pressing my cheek against his. Feeling his whiskers against my face was comforting, as was the smell of his cologne. “I just ...” I let him go and shrugged. “I love you.”
He stared at me for a moment, a wide grin spreading across his face. “That’s all I need.” He slid my backpack off my shoulders and swung it over one of his, took my hand, and then led me to the parking lot.
If people weren’t staring, they were pretending not to stare until we passed.
I could feel curious eyes ogling the back of my head. I wondered if Travis could also hear the whispers about the fire, the wedding, and just the fact that he and I were walking together after the big scandalous breakup only a tiny campus like Eastern would bother to care about.
“You gonna talk to me, Mare?” Travis asked, nudging her with his elbow.
“Maybe once I stop hating you.”
“You don’t hate me,” he said with a grin.
She frowned. “Well, when you do things like carry her backpack without her even asking, it does make it harder. You’re good to her. Can’t deny that.”
“And that won’t change.”
“It better not,” she said, hugging me goodbye.
Travis held my hand as he cut across the grass, his boots squishing in the wet mud. I hopped over puddles and ruts, glad when my husband finally swooped me up into his arms and carried me.
I laced my fingers behind his neck, unable to stop smiling at the sight of Travis being unable to stop smiling.
“What are you so happy about?” I asked.
“You.”
“No. It’s something else. What have you been up to today? Did you get good news or something?”
“Kind of. Parker stopped by the apartment today to ask if the rumor was true.”
“Parker?” I said, wrinkling my nose.
Travis laughed. “That’s the reaction I hoped you’d have. He wasn’t happy when I confirmed.”
“Ugh, who cares?”
Travis’s smile grew even wider. “He said the new was going to wear off and you were going to leave me. But that look on your face when you saw me a few minutes ago? Just blew his theory out of the water.”
He lowered me to the asphalt next to our car and dug into his pocket for the keys.
“America heard the same today. That no one believed you would marry me.”
He looked appalled. “I’m not calling America a liar but there is zero chance anyone thinks that. No one thinks I deserve you, Pidge. And they’re not wrong.”
“The sorority girls, do, apparently.”
“The sorority girls voted Lexi as their Chapter President and she can’t get past remedial math.”
I burst into laughter for a moment before frowning. “How do you know that?”
“They were talking about it in class. Here,” he said, handing me the keys.
“What do you want me to do with these?”
“Your turn to drive.”
“Me? No,” I said, shaking my head.
He snorted. “Pigeon. You've gotta learn some time.”
“I know how to drive. I just don’t like to.”
“What if I’m at work and you need to get somewhere?” He opened the driver’s side door and gestured for me to get in.
I pushed the door closed. “Then I’ll drive. But you’re not at work, you’re ... Hey, did you find a job?”
“Not yet. I called a guy. I don’t think it’s going to work out, though.”
The mist turned into droplets that grew louder with every passing second.
“Why not?” I asked.
Travis opened the door again. “Get in the car, Pidge. It’s going to start pouring any second.” My brow arched, and he sighed. “They’re hiring at Iron E.”
“Don’t you work out there? You like that place.”
“Baby, get in the fucking car. You’re getting soaked.”
I started to walk toward the front, but he reached for my arm to stop me.
“I’m not driving in the rain, Trav. C’mon. I’ll drive tomorrow.”
He frowned. “Fine.”
He slid in behind the wheel and leaned over, pulling on the lever and pushing open my door while I jogged around, ducking into the passenger’s seat.
I scrambled to turn the heater on high, and then Travis took both of my hands, simultaneously rubbing and breathing on them. An errant, wavy strand of darkened caramel hair hung in front of my eyes, dripping wet.
Travis was unhappy, two lines forming between his brows.
“What’s wrong with Iron E?” I asked.
“I like the gym. I just don’t like the owner.”
“That Chuck guy we met at the Pizza Shack that one time?”
“No, Chuck runs everything. Brandon Kyle is the owner, and he’s a real piece of shit.”
“How so?”
“His wife is pregnant ... like ready-to-pop pregnant. He’s fucking the receptionist, two of the trainers, the clients.”
“So?”
“So? He’s human garbage, Pidge. I don’t wanna work for him. He brags about it all the time. He’s talking like he wants to pimp me out to the female clientele. He’ll earn a throat punch the first hour.”
I frowned. I didn’t like the idea of the owner encouraging other women to try to seduce my husband, but I also trusted Travis implicitly. “Do you have any other prospects? We have rent, baby.”
Travis sighed and looked out his rain-streaked window. “No. And he made it sound like all I have to do is apply and I have the job.”
“Then what are you waiting for?” I said with a surprised laugh.
Travis turned to me, serious. “I just told you, Pidge. He’s not the kind of people I like to be around.”
I shrugged. “You won’t be around him all the time. It’s just until you find something else, right?”
“There’s girls. Lots and lots of college girls. And bored housewives. And—”
“I trust you. Do you not trust yourself?”
“It’s not that, it’s just something I don’t want to deal with. Brandon even said it himself... It’s a meat market. He’s not my pimp. And the women at that gym are used to the way he runs things.”
I laughed out loud.
“It’s not funny,” Travis grumbled. “I’d rather trade punches than deal with the cougars that come through that gym.”
“It’s something else. Something you’re not telling me.”
“He also made a comment about you on the phone today. Said he saw you at The Red with me and thought about approaching you. Said he didn’t know we were serious.”
“Well, we know how that would’ve turned out.”
“The crazy thing is … I mean, yeah, the thought of you being with anyone else makes me want to break things, but even worse is thinking how he would treat you. If you’d ran into him while we were broken up, or worse, if it was him instead of Parker that you were talking to …” he sighed. “I woulda fucking killed him if he hurt you.”
I touched his face. “Is that what you’re so pissed off about?”
“I know, it’s stupid,” he said, scowling. “It’s just the way my brain works.”
“Well, I’ve never spoken to him, and even if it had been him instead of Parker, you and I would still be sitting right here in this car together with rings on our fingers. Take the job, baby. You’ve got this. It’s easy money.” I dug into my pocket and pulled out the damp white rectangle. “I think I’ve found something, too. They’re looking for Calculus tutors.”
Travis wasn’t impressed. “If I fought for Benny, we’d—”
“Not be together.”
Travis looked down, defeated. “I wanted more for you, Pidge.”
“More than what? Don’t you dare wish away this part! The tiny apartment and clipping coupons and living on ramen until payday? Balancing the checkbook together and talking about our weekly budget, picking up a sweater in the store just to hang it back on the rack because holding your hand with our rings touching is way better than carrying a bag full of clothes.
“This dog takes shits bigger than you.”
“She’s going to leave you, Travis. Abby’s going to realize what she’s done, the new is going to wear off, and she’s going to leave you, and I want to see that arrogant smile wiped right off your face when she does.”
I took a step forward, my muscles tensed and ready like they were just before a fight in The Circle. I knew if I threw one punch I wouldn’t stop, but in that moment killing Parker was the only thing that was going to make me feel better.
“Get out of your fucking car. Right now.”
Parker hid himself behind the dark tint of the window, and then drove away.
I stood with my hands in fists, my entire body trembling with anger. Toto nuzzled his nose against my jeans, and I looked down. Adrenaline absorbed back into my system as my gaze fell to his expectant eyes.
He was cold before we began our walk; now he was shivering like I was. He sniffed and kicked back a few tufts of grass like he owned the place.
I smiled. “Yeah. You woulda destroyed those skinny ankles. Pussy dog, my ass.”
I scooped him up and took him inside. The second I set him down, he trotted off to my bedroom, probably curling up on his bed for his afternoon nap.
I grabbed my wallet, phone, and keys, and headed out the door and down the stairs, sliding behind the wheel of the Camry. Even though I inhaled to breathe in the new car smell as deeply as I could, anxiety washed over me. My knuckles turned white under the pressure of my grip on the steering wheel.
Abby’s last class wasn’t over for another hour, and I was itching to vent about Brandon and Parker. Something white caught my eye, and I looked down between the seats. I reached down, fishing out the envelope that contained my mom’s letter to my future wife; to Abby. I gently set it on the passenger seat, and put the gear into reverse and backed out, driving toward Dad’s.
The streets on the way to the home where I grew up were filled with potholes and lined with dilapidated houses with broken down vehicles sitting in the yards. Dad’s placed wore chipped paint and broken porch boards and shutters, but it was where I threw my first punch and caught my first fist in the mouth.
That overgrown grass was where Thomas used to hold me back so my brothers wouldn’t beat my ass because I wouldn’t give up. And where Trenton would try to mow down anything standing between him and me—even Thomas.
I smiled as I turned into the drive, the gravel crunching beneath the tires.
Dad pushed open the screen door and rested his hands on his round middle, watching me approach the porch with an appreciative smile on his face. “Well, well,” he said. “I didn’t think I’d see you around here for a while.”
“I’m three miles away,” I said, climbing the steps to the weather worn wooden slats that made up the porch.
Dad patted me on the shoulder, and I brought him in for a hug.
“Your mom and I didn’t leave the house for three weeks after the wedding.”
“Dad,” I scolded. My face twisted into disgust, and I stepped past him into the living room to the couch.
Dad chuckled, closing the door behind us. “This weather is a son-of-a-bitch,” he grumbled. He took a peek outside the small glass square near the top of the front door, and then shook his head, waddling to his recliner.
He sat on the edge, leaning forward with his elbows resting on his knees. “Whatcha got there?” He gestured to the white envelope in my hand.
I lifted it a few inches, surprised at how nervous I felt.
Dad didn’t talk about Mom a lot. Not that he tried not to, but I could still see the emptiness in his eyes—the same way I would feel if I ever lost Abby.
“It’s a letter.”
“The, uh, the one Mom left you?”
I nodded. “I gave it to Abby before the wedding.”
“I’d hoped you’d remember.”
“I did.”
“Good,” he said, clearing his throat. “Good.”
“Do you want to read it?”
He shook his head. “It wasn’t for me.”
I pulled out the thin paper from the envelope, my eyes tracing Mom’s delicate handwriting. “I know. It’s kind of like hearing from her again. It reads just the way I remember her.”
He looked surprised. “You remember her?”
I nodded. “It’s fuzzy, but yeah. Bits and pieces.”
Dad thought about it for a moment, and then nodded, waving his hand toward him. “Okay, then. Bring it over.”
I jumped up, handed the paper to Dad, and then returned to my seat on the couch.
Dad blinked a few times, trying to focus, and then, seeing her words on paper, his bottom lip began to tremble. He rested his chin on his hand to try to mask his emotion, but then he blinked several times, and his eyes began to gloss over. A smile touched his mouth, he shook his head and chuckled once.
Dad lowered the letter with one hand, and then wiped his eyes with the other. After a full minute, he cleared his throat and then looked up at me.
“It’s been a long time. It was good to hear her voice again. Even if it was just in my head. Thank you, son.”
I nodded. “I miss her, too. All the time.”
He laughed again, wiping another escaped tear. “I miss her every moment of every day. For damn near seventeen years. And the way you look at Abby”—he sighed—“that’s the way I looked at your mother. My God, did I love that woman. I’d never felt anything like that before ... and never since.”
My eyebrows pulled in. “Do you think I’m going to lose her, Dad?”
“Abby?”
I nodded.
Dad touched his lips with his fingers, and then looked down at the floor.
I couldn’t move or breath while I waited for the answer.
He finally leaned forward again and looked me straight in the eyes. “Travis, I hate to break this to you son ... but your wife? She’s stronger than you. You’d leave her before she’ll leave you.”
His words knocked the wind out of me, and after I couldn’t keep my expression straight or my eyes dry, I covered my face, letting the relief wash over me in waves.
Dad was never wrong, and I trusted him with my life.
I looked up at him. Because I loved my wife, I was going keep the truth from him. And because of the love he’d felt for my mom, I knew Dad would understand.
Chapter Seven
First Breath
Abby
ADVERTISEMENTS CLUTTERED THE CORK BOARD next to the exit of Reiger Hall, all with headers like For Sale, In Search Of, and Help Wanted, and at the bottom, numbers cut into strips. An ad near the top had official school letterhead and a list of subjects.
I narrowed my eyes, read the fine print, and then ripped off a tab and put the phone number in my pocket. The school was looking for tutors and Calculus was one of the subjects.
Halfway into second semester, and the books and supplies in my backpack were weighing me down, cutting into my shoulders. I didn’t realize I’d be married and looking for a job when choosing my classes before winter break. I hopped a bit as I took my first step toward the exit, trying to shift the straps to give the indentions next to my neck a break.
The early spring air hit my face the moment I stepped onto the concrete steps outside. Coats in every style and color peppered the sidewalks, a patchwork setting students apart from our gray surroundings. I looked up at the sky, feeling mist instantly cover my face. It had either poured or spat rain all day. The morning fog was just beginning to move on.
“Hey!” America yelled, jogging toward me. She waved, her bright smile the only sunshine. She stopped in front of me, holding the loose straps of her backpack at her chest, breathing hard. “The sorority girls are going nuts. I love it.”
“What do you mean?”
“About Travis and you. Everyone’s talking about it. I got to tell Alexis she was a jealous twat. To her face. It was amazing.”
I felt my cheeks flush. “Great.”
I continued down the sidewalk and America followed, beaming with pride.
“Not even half believe it.”
I stopped abruptly. “Believe what? That we’re married? Or that he married me?”
She shrugged. “Both.” When she realized I was offended, she back peddled. “But, c’mon. Look at you. Of course he did. I mean, it’s Travis. No one thought he’d ever get married. To anyone.”
I looked down at my less-than-special plaid flannel shirt and olive-green vest, skinny jeans and tall, brown boots. My hair was damp and in a high, messy bun. I couldn’t remember if I’d bothered to put on makeup before leaving the apartment or not. I looked around, noticing people’s lingering, curious stares.
Someone whistled, and I turned, watching the sea of students part to reveal Travis walking toward me.
He was strutting down the center of the walkway, his hands in his jean’s pockets, wearing a gray beanie, a black and white Ramones T-shirt under an open red and black flannel button down. His black leather boots added just that extra Don’t fuck with me, I’ll end you to the look.
Even with a wedding ring on his finger, the coeds stopped to stare. His perfect jawline, the dimple, his flawless stride—Travis was beautiful. An overabundance of sex and charm radiated from him without effort.
It wouldn’t surprise me if he started walking in slow motion with Sweetie’s My Type playing from somewhere.
“Look at that,” I said. “That’s why people don’t believe it.”
“You’ll have beautiful children, I’ll give you that,” America said. “And look. So cute. Y’all married with matching flannels.”
I frowned. “They’re different colors.”
One side of Travis’s mouth turned up, his right brow lifted the tiniest bit, and I swallowed, feeling butterflies in my stomach.
He stopped a couple feet away, staring at me with the same look on his face as when the officiant in Vegas said man and wife. Travis didn’t even have to say he loved me, I could see it in the way he looked at me, the way he moved, hear it in the way he spoke, even if what he was saying had nothing to do with me.
He breathed out a laugh, noticing my expression. “What is going on in that head of yours?”
I shook my head and threw my arms around his neck. “I’m good,” I said softly, pressing my cheek against his. Feeling his whiskers against my face was comforting, as was the smell of his cologne. “I just ...” I let him go and shrugged. “I love you.”
He stared at me for a moment, a wide grin spreading across his face. “That’s all I need.” He slid my backpack off my shoulders and swung it over one of his, took my hand, and then led me to the parking lot.
If people weren’t staring, they were pretending not to stare until we passed.
I could feel curious eyes ogling the back of my head. I wondered if Travis could also hear the whispers about the fire, the wedding, and just the fact that he and I were walking together after the big scandalous breakup only a tiny campus like Eastern would bother to care about.
“You gonna talk to me, Mare?” Travis asked, nudging her with his elbow.
“Maybe once I stop hating you.”
“You don’t hate me,” he said with a grin.
She frowned. “Well, when you do things like carry her backpack without her even asking, it does make it harder. You’re good to her. Can’t deny that.”
“And that won’t change.”
“It better not,” she said, hugging me goodbye.
Travis held my hand as he cut across the grass, his boots squishing in the wet mud. I hopped over puddles and ruts, glad when my husband finally swooped me up into his arms and carried me.
I laced my fingers behind his neck, unable to stop smiling at the sight of Travis being unable to stop smiling.
“What are you so happy about?” I asked.
“You.”
“No. It’s something else. What have you been up to today? Did you get good news or something?”
“Kind of. Parker stopped by the apartment today to ask if the rumor was true.”
“Parker?” I said, wrinkling my nose.
Travis laughed. “That’s the reaction I hoped you’d have. He wasn’t happy when I confirmed.”
“Ugh, who cares?”
Travis’s smile grew even wider. “He said the new was going to wear off and you were going to leave me. But that look on your face when you saw me a few minutes ago? Just blew his theory out of the water.”
He lowered me to the asphalt next to our car and dug into his pocket for the keys.
“America heard the same today. That no one believed you would marry me.”
He looked appalled. “I’m not calling America a liar but there is zero chance anyone thinks that. No one thinks I deserve you, Pidge. And they’re not wrong.”
“The sorority girls, do, apparently.”
“The sorority girls voted Lexi as their Chapter President and she can’t get past remedial math.”
I burst into laughter for a moment before frowning. “How do you know that?”
“They were talking about it in class. Here,” he said, handing me the keys.
“What do you want me to do with these?”
“Your turn to drive.”
“Me? No,” I said, shaking my head.
He snorted. “Pigeon. You've gotta learn some time.”
“I know how to drive. I just don’t like to.”
“What if I’m at work and you need to get somewhere?” He opened the driver’s side door and gestured for me to get in.
I pushed the door closed. “Then I’ll drive. But you’re not at work, you’re ... Hey, did you find a job?”
“Not yet. I called a guy. I don’t think it’s going to work out, though.”
The mist turned into droplets that grew louder with every passing second.
“Why not?” I asked.
Travis opened the door again. “Get in the car, Pidge. It’s going to start pouring any second.” My brow arched, and he sighed. “They’re hiring at Iron E.”
“Don’t you work out there? You like that place.”
“Baby, get in the fucking car. You’re getting soaked.”
I started to walk toward the front, but he reached for my arm to stop me.
“I’m not driving in the rain, Trav. C’mon. I’ll drive tomorrow.”
He frowned. “Fine.”
He slid in behind the wheel and leaned over, pulling on the lever and pushing open my door while I jogged around, ducking into the passenger’s seat.
I scrambled to turn the heater on high, and then Travis took both of my hands, simultaneously rubbing and breathing on them. An errant, wavy strand of darkened caramel hair hung in front of my eyes, dripping wet.
Travis was unhappy, two lines forming between his brows.
“What’s wrong with Iron E?” I asked.
“I like the gym. I just don’t like the owner.”
“That Chuck guy we met at the Pizza Shack that one time?”
“No, Chuck runs everything. Brandon Kyle is the owner, and he’s a real piece of shit.”
“How so?”
“His wife is pregnant ... like ready-to-pop pregnant. He’s fucking the receptionist, two of the trainers, the clients.”
“So?”
“So? He’s human garbage, Pidge. I don’t wanna work for him. He brags about it all the time. He’s talking like he wants to pimp me out to the female clientele. He’ll earn a throat punch the first hour.”
I frowned. I didn’t like the idea of the owner encouraging other women to try to seduce my husband, but I also trusted Travis implicitly. “Do you have any other prospects? We have rent, baby.”
Travis sighed and looked out his rain-streaked window. “No. And he made it sound like all I have to do is apply and I have the job.”
“Then what are you waiting for?” I said with a surprised laugh.
Travis turned to me, serious. “I just told you, Pidge. He’s not the kind of people I like to be around.”
I shrugged. “You won’t be around him all the time. It’s just until you find something else, right?”
“There’s girls. Lots and lots of college girls. And bored housewives. And—”
“I trust you. Do you not trust yourself?”
“It’s not that, it’s just something I don’t want to deal with. Brandon even said it himself... It’s a meat market. He’s not my pimp. And the women at that gym are used to the way he runs things.”
I laughed out loud.
“It’s not funny,” Travis grumbled. “I’d rather trade punches than deal with the cougars that come through that gym.”
“It’s something else. Something you’re not telling me.”
“He also made a comment about you on the phone today. Said he saw you at The Red with me and thought about approaching you. Said he didn’t know we were serious.”
“Well, we know how that would’ve turned out.”
“The crazy thing is … I mean, yeah, the thought of you being with anyone else makes me want to break things, but even worse is thinking how he would treat you. If you’d ran into him while we were broken up, or worse, if it was him instead of Parker that you were talking to …” he sighed. “I woulda fucking killed him if he hurt you.”
I touched his face. “Is that what you’re so pissed off about?”
“I know, it’s stupid,” he said, scowling. “It’s just the way my brain works.”
“Well, I’ve never spoken to him, and even if it had been him instead of Parker, you and I would still be sitting right here in this car together with rings on our fingers. Take the job, baby. You’ve got this. It’s easy money.” I dug into my pocket and pulled out the damp white rectangle. “I think I’ve found something, too. They’re looking for Calculus tutors.”
Travis wasn’t impressed. “If I fought for Benny, we’d—”
“Not be together.”
Travis looked down, defeated. “I wanted more for you, Pidge.”
“More than what? Don’t you dare wish away this part! The tiny apartment and clipping coupons and living on ramen until payday? Balancing the checkbook together and talking about our weekly budget, picking up a sweater in the store just to hang it back on the rack because holding your hand with our rings touching is way better than carrying a bag full of clothes.
