Beautiful Disaster 01 (8 page)

After climbing off his bike, I smacked his shoulder. “Did you forget I was with you? Are you trying to get me killed?”

“It’s hard to forget you’re behind me when your thighs are squeezing the life out of me.” A smirk came with his next thought. “I couldn’t think of a better way to die, actually.”

“There is something very wrong with you.”

We had barely made it inside when America shuffled out of Shepley’s bedroom. “We were thinking about going out tonight. You guys in?”

I looked at Travis and grinned. “We’re going to swing by the sushi place before we go to Red.”

America’s smile spanned from one side of her face to the other. “Shep!” she cried, scampering into the bathroom. “We’re going out tonight!”

I was the last one in the shower, so Shepley, America and Travis were impatiently standing by the door when I stepped out of the bathroom in a black dress and hot pink heels.

America whistled. “Hot
damn
, Mama!”

I smiled in appreciation, and Travis held out his hand. “Nice legs.”

“Did I mention that it’s a magic razor?”

“I don’t think it’s the razor,” he smiled, pulling me out the door.

We were far too loud and obnoxious in the sushi bar, and had already had a night’s worth to drink before we stepped foot in The Red Door. Shepley pulled into the parking lot, taking time to find a space.

“Sometime tonight, Shep,” America muttered.

“Hey. I have to find a wide space. I don’t want some drunken idiot dinging the paint.”

Once we parked, Travis leaned the seat forward and helped me out. “I meant to ask you about your ID’s. They’re flawless. You didn’t get them around here.”

“Yeah, we’ve had them for awhile. It was necessary…in Wichita,” I said.

“Necessary?” Travis asked.

“It’s a good thing you have connections,” America said. She hiccupped and covered her mouth, giggling.

“Dear God, woman,” Shepley said, holding America’s arm as she awkwardly stepped along the gravel. “I think you’re already done for the night.”

Travis made a face. “What are you talking about, Mare? What connections?”

“Abby has some old friends that—,”

“They’re fake ID’s, Trav,” I interrupted. “You have to know the right people if you want them done right, right?”

America purposefully looked away from Travis, and I waited.

“Right,” he said, extending his hand for mine.

I grabbed three of his fingers and smiled, knowing by his expression that he wasn’t satisfied with my answer.

“I need another drink!” I said as a second attempt to change the subject.

“Shots!” America yelled.

Shepley rolled his eyes. “Oh, yeah. That’s what you need, another shot.”

Once inside, America immediately pulled me onto the dance floor. Her blonde hair was everywhere, and I laughed at the duck face she made when she moved to music. When the song was over, we joined the boys at the bar. An excessively voluptuous, platinum-blonde was already at Travis’ side, and America’s face screwed into revulsion.

“It’s going to be like this all night, Mare. Just ignore them,” Shepley said, nodding to a small group of girls standing a few feet away. They eyed the blonde, waiting for their turn.

“It looks like Vegas threw up on a flock of vultures,” America sneered.

Travis lit a cigarette as he ordered two more beers, and the blonde bit her puffy, glossed lip and smiled. The bartender popped the tops open and slid the bottles to Travis. The blonde picked up one of the beers, but Travis pulled it from her hand.

“Uh…not yours,” he said to her, handing it to me.

My initial thought was to toss the bottle in the trash, but the woman looked so offended, I smiled and took a drink. She walked off in a huff, and I chuckled that Travis didn’t seem to notice.

“Like I would buy a beer for some chick at a bar,” he said, shaking his head. I held up my beer, and he pulled up one side of his mouth into a half-smile. “You’re different.”

I clinked my bottle against his. “To being the only girl a guy with no standards doesn’t want to sleep with.” I said, taking a swig.

“Are you serious?” he asked, pulling the bottle from my mouth. When I didn’t recant, he leaned toward me. “First of all…I have standards. I’ve never been with an ugly woman. Ever. Second of all, I
wanted
to sleep with you. I thought about throwing you over my couch fifty different ways, but I haven’t because I don’t see you that way anymore. It’s not that I’m not attracted to you, I just think you’re better than that.”

I couldn’t hold back the smug smile that crept across my face. “You think I’m too good for you.”

He sneered at my second insult. “I can’t think of a single guy I know that’s good enough for you.”

The smugness melted away and was replaced with a touched, appreciative smile. “Thanks, Trav,” I said, setting my empty bottle on the bar.

Travis pulled on my hand. “C’mon,” he said, tugging me through the crowd on the dance floor.

“I’ve had a lot to drink! I’m going to fall!”

Travis smiled and pulled me to him, grabbing my hips. “Shut up and dance.”

America and Shepley appeared beside us. Shepley moved like he’d been watching too many Usher videos. Travis had me near panic with the way he pressed against me. If he used any of those moves on the couch, I could see why so many girls chanced humiliation in the morning.

He cinched his hands around my hips, and I noticed that his expression was different, almost serious. I ran my hands over his flawless chest and six-pack as they stretched and tensed under his tight shirt to the music. I turned my back to him, smiling when he wrapped his arms around my waist. Coupled with the alcohol in my system, when he pulled my body against his, things came to mind that were anything but friendly.

The next song bled into the one we were dancing to, and Travis showed no signs of wanting to return to the bar. The sweat beaded on the back of my neck, and the multi-colored strobe lights made me feel a bit dizzy. I closed my eyes and leaned my head against his shoulder. He grabbed my hands and pulled them up and around his neck. His hands ran down my arms, down my ribs, finally returning to my hips. When I felt his lips, and then his tongue against my neck, I pulled away from him.

He chuckled, looking a bit surprised. “What, Pidge?”

My temper flared, making the sharp words I wanted to say stick in my throat. I retreated to the bar and ordered another Corona. Travis took the stool beside me, holding up his finger to order one for himself. As soon as the bartender set the bottle in front of me, I tipped it up and drank half the contents before slamming it to the bar.

“You think
that
is going to change anyone’s mind about us?” I said, pulling my hair to the side, covering the spot he kissed.

He laughed once. “I don’t give a damn what they think about us.”

I shot him a dirty look and then turned to face forward.

“Pigeon,” he said, touching my arm.

I pulled away from him. “Don’t. I could
never
get drunk enough to let you get me on that couch.”

His face twisted in anger, but before he could say anything, a dark-haired stunner with pouty lips, enormous blue eyes and far too much cleavage approached him.

“Well. If it isn’t Travis Maddox,” she said, bouncing in all the right places.

He took a drink, and then his eyes locked on mine. “Hey Megan.”

“Introduce me to your girlfriend,” she smiled. I rolled my eyes at how pathetically transparent she was.

Travis tipped his head back to finish his beer, and then slid his empty bottle down the bar. Everyone waiting to order followed it with their eyes until it fell into the trashcan at the end. “She’s not my girlfriend.”

He grabbed Megan’s hand, and she happily traipsed behind him to the dance floor. He all but mauled her for one song, and then another, and another. They were causing a scene with the way she let him grope her, and when he bent her over I turned my back to them.

“You look pissed,” a man said as he sat next to me. “Is that your boyfriend out there?”

“No, he’s just a friend,” I grumbled.

“Well, that’s good. That could have been pretty awkward for you if he was.” He faced the dance floor, shaking his head at the spectacle.

“Tell me about it,” I said, drinking the last of my beer. I barely tasted the last two I had put away, and my teeth were numb.

“Would you like another one?” he asked. I looked over at him and he smiled. “I’m Ethan.”

“Abby,” I said, taking his outstretched hand.

He held up two fingers to the bartender, and I smiled. “Thanks.”

“So you live here?” he asked.

“In Morgan Hall at Eastern.”

“I have an apartment in Hinley.”

“You go to State?” I asked. “What is that...like an hour away? What are you doing over here?”

“I graduated last May. My little sister goes to Eastern. I’m staying with her this week while I apply for jobs.”

“Uh oh…living in the real world, huh?”

Ethan laughed. “And it’s everything they say it is.”

I pulled the gloss out of my pocket and smeared it across my lips, using the mirror lining the wall behind the bar.

“That’s a nice shade,” he said, watching me press my lips together.

I smiled, feeling the anger at Travis, and the heaviness of the alcohol. “Maybe you can try it on later.”

Ethan’s eyes brightened as I leaned in closer, and I smiled when he touched my knee. He pulled back his hand when Travis stepped between us.

“You ready, Pidge?”

“I’m talking, Travis,” I said, moving him back. His shirt was damp from the circus on the dance floor, and I made a show of wiping my hand on my skirt.

Travis made a face. “Do you even know this guy?”

“This is Ethan,” I said, sending my new friend the best flirty smile I could manage.

He winked at me, and then looked at Travis, extending his hand. “Nice to meet you.”

Travis glanced at me and I sighed. “Ethan, this is Travis,” I muttered.

“Travis Maddox,” he said, staring at Ethan’s hand as if he wanted to rip it off.

Ethan’s eyes grew wide and he awkwardly pulled back his hand. “Travis
Maddox
? Eastern’s Travis Maddox?”

I rested my cheek on my fist, dreading the inevitable testosterone-fueled story swapping that would soon ensue.