Beautiful Disaster (26 page)

“Well, that's a relief.”

“Lucky Thirteen,” he said, shaking his head and pulling my shirt over my head.

“Don't call me that, Travis. It's not a good thing.”

“You're fucking famous, Pigeon!” he said, surprised at my words. He unbuttoned my jeans and pulled them down around my ankles, helping me to step out of them.

“My father hated me after that. He still blames me for all his problems.”

Travis yanked off his shirt and hugged me to him. “I still can't believe the daughter of Mick Abernathy is standing in front of me, and I've been with you this whole time and had no idea.”

I pushed away from him. “I'm not Mick Abernathy's daughter, Travis! That's what I left behind. I'm Abby. Just Abby!” I said, walking over to the closet. I yanked a T-shirt off its hanger and pulled it over my head.

He sighed. “I'm sorry. I'm a little starstruck.”

“It's just me!” I held the palm of my hand to my chest, desperate for him to understand.

“Yeah, but …”

“But nothing. The way you're looking at me right now? This is exactly why I didn't tell you.” I closed my eyes. “I won't live like that anymore, Trav. Not even with you.”

“Whoa! Calm down, Pigeon. Let's not get carried away.” His eyes focused and he walked over to wrap me in his arms. “I don't care what you were or what you're not anymore. I just want you.”

“I guess we have that in common, then.”

He led me to the bed, smiling down at me. “It's just you and me against the world, Pidge.”

I curled up beside him, settling into the mattress. I had never planned on anyone besides myself and
America knowing about Mick, and I never expected that my boyfriend would belong to a family of poker buffs. I heaved a heavy sigh, pressing my cheek against his chest.

“What's wrong?” he asked.

“I don't want anyone to know, Trav. I didn't want you to know.”

“I love you, Abby. I won't mention it again, okay? Your secret's safe with me,” he said, kissing my forehead.

· · ·

“Mr. Maddox, think you could tone it down until after class?” Professor Chaney said, reacting to my giggling as Travis nuzzled my neck.

I cleared my throat, feeling my cheeks radiate with embarrassment.

“I don't think so, Dr. Chaney. Have you gotten a good look at my girl?” Travis said, gesturing to me.

Laughter echoed throughout the room and my face caught fire. Professor Chaney glanced at me with a half-amused, half-awkward expression and then shook his head at Travis.

“Just do your best,” Chaney said.

The class laughed again, and I sunk into my seat. Travis rested his arm on the back of my chair, and the lecture continued. After class had been dismissed, Travis walked me to my next class.

“Sorry if I embarrassed you. I can't help myself.”

“Try.”

Parker walked by, and when I returned his nod with a polite smile, his eyes brightened. “Hey Abby.
See you inside.” He walked into the classroom, and Travis glowered at him for a few tense moments.

“Hey,” I tugged on his hand until he looked at me. “Forget about him.”

“He's been telling the guys at the House that you're still calling him.”

“That's not true,” I said, unaffected.

“I know that, but they don't. He said he's just biding his time. He told Brad that you're just waiting for the right time to dump me, and how you call him to say how unhappy you are. He's starting to piss me off.”

“He has quite an imagination.” I glanced at Parker and when he met my eyes and smiled, I glared at him.

“Would you get mad if I embarrassed you one more time?”

I shrugged and Travis wasted no time leading me into the classroom. He stopped at my desk, setting my bag on the floor. He looked over at Parker and then pulled me to him, one hand on the nape of my neck, one hand on my backside, and then kissed me, deep and determined. He worked his lips against mine in the way he usually reserved for his bedroom, and I couldn't help but grab his shirt with both fists.

The murmuring and giggles grew louder after it became clear that Travis wasn't going to let go anytime soon.

“I think he just got her pregnant!” someone from the back of the room said, laughing.

I pulled away with my eyes closed, trying to regain my composure. When I looked at Travis, he was staring at me with the same forced restraint.

“I was just trying to make a point,” he whispered.

“Good point,” I nodded.

Travis smiled, kissed my cheek and then looked to Parker, who was fuming in his seat.

“I'll see you at lunch,” he winked.

I fell against my seat and sighed, trying to shake off the tingling between my thighs.

I labored through Calculus, and when class was over I noticed Parker standing against the wall by the door.

“Parker,” I nodded, determined not to give him the reaction he was hoping for.

“I know you're with him. He doesn't have to violate you in front of an entire class on my account.”

I stopped in my tracks and poised to attack. “Then maybe you should stop telling your frat brothers that I'm calling you. You're going to push him too far, and I'm not going to feel sorry for you when he puts his boot in your ass.”

He wrinkled his nose. “Listen to you. You've been around Travis too much.”

“No, this is me. It's just a side of me you know nothing about.”

“You didn't exactly give me a chance, did you?”

I sighed. “I don't want to fight with you, Parker. It just didn't work out, okay?”

“No, it's not okay. You think I enjoy being the laughingstock of Eastern? Travis Maddox is the one we all appreciate because he makes us look good. He uses girls, tosses them aside, and even the biggest jerks at Eastern look like Prince Charming after Travis.”

“When are you going to open your eyes and realize that he's different now?”

“He doesn't love you, Abby. You're a shiny new toy. Although, after the scene he made in class, I'm assuming you're not all that shiny anymore.”

I slapped his face with a loud smack before I realized what I'd done.

“If you would have waited two seconds, I could have saved you the effort, Pidge,” Travis said, pulling me behind him.

I grabbed his arm. “Travis, don't.”

Parker looked a bit nervous as a perfect red outline of my hand appeared on his cheek.

“I warned you,” Travis said, shoving Parker violently against the wall.

Parker's jaws tensed and he glared at me. “Consider this closure, Travis. I can see now that you two are made for each other.”

“Thanks,” Travis said, hooking his arm around my shoulders.

Parker pushed himself from the wall and quickly rounded the corner descend the stairs with a quick glance to make sure Travis didn't follow.

“Are you okay?” Travis asked.

“My hand stings.”

He smiled. “That was badass, Pidge. I'm impressed.”

“He'll probably sue me and I'll end up paying his way into Harvard. What are you doing here? I thought we were meeting in the cafeteria?”

One side of his mouth pulled up in an impish grin. “I couldn't concentrate in class. I'm still feelin' that kiss.”

I looked down the hall and then to him. “Come with me.”

His eyebrows pulled together over his smile. “What?”

I walked backward, pulling him along until I felt the knob of the Physics lab. The door swung open, and I glanced behind me, seeing that it was empty and dark. I tugged on his hand, giggling at his confused expression, and then locked the door, pushing him against it.

I kissed him and he chuckled. “What are you doin'?”

“I don't want you to be unable to concentrate in class,” I said, kissing him again. He lifted me up and I wrapped my legs around him.

“I'm not sure what I ever did without you,” he said, holding me up with one hand and unbuckling his belt with the other, “but I don't ever want to find out. You're everything I've ever wanted, Pigeon.”

“Just remember that when I take all of your money in the next poker game,” I said, pulling off my shirt.

I twirled around, scrutinizing my reflection with a skeptical eye. The dress was white, backless, and dangerously short, the bodice held up by a short string of rhinestones that formed a halter around my neck.

“Wow! Travis is going to piss himself when he sees you in that!” America said.

I rolled my eyes. “How romantic.”

“You're getting that one. Don't try any more on, that's the one,” she said, clapping with excitement.

“You don't think it's too short? Mariah Carey shows less skin.”

America shook her head. “I insist.”

I took a turn on the bench while America tried on one dress after another, more indecisive when it came to choosing one for herself. She settled on an extremely short, tight, flesh-colored number that left one of her shoulders bare.

We rode in her Honda to the apartment to find the Charger gone and Toto alone. America pulled out her phone and dialed, smiling when Shepley answered.

“Where'd you go, baby?” She nodded and then looked at me. “Why would I be mad? What kind of surprise?” she said. She looked at me again and then walked into Shepley's bedroom, closing the door.

I rubbed Toto's black pointy ears while America murmured in the bedroom. When she emerged, she tried to subdue the smile on her face.

“What are they up to now?” I asked.

“They're on their way home. I'll let Travis tell you,” she said, grinning from ear to ear.

“Oh, God … what?” I asked.

“I just said I can't tell you. It's a surprise.”

I fidgeted with my hair and picked at my nails, unable to sit still while I waited for Travis to unveil his latest surprise. A birthday party, a puppy—I couldn't imagine what could be next.

The loud engine of Shepley's Charger announced their arrival. The boys laughed as they walked up the stairs.

“They're in a good mood,” I said. “That's a good sign.”

Shepley walked in first. “I just didn't want you to think there was a reason that he got one and I didn't.”

America stood up to greet her boyfriend and threw her arms around him. “You're so silly, Shep. If I wanted an insane boyfriend, I'd date Travis.”

“It doesn't have anything to do with how I feel about you,” Shepley added.

Travis walked through the door with a square gauze bandage on his wrist. He smiled at me and then collapsed on the couch, resting his head on my lap.

I couldn't look away from the bandage. “Okay … what did you do?”

Travis smiled and pulled me down to kiss him. I could feel the nervousness radiating from him. Outwardly he was smiling, but I had the distinct feeling he wasn't sure how I would react to what he had done.

“I got a few things today.”

“Like what?” I asked, suspicious.

Travis laughed. “Calm down, Pidge. It's nothing bad.”

“What happened to your wrist?” I said, pulling his hand up by his fingers.

A thunderous diesel motor pulled up outside and Travis hopped up from the couch, opening the door. “It's about fucking time! I've been home for at least five minutes!” he said with a smile.

One man walked in backward, carrying a plastic-covered gray sofa, followed by another man bringing in the rear. Shepley and Travis moved the couch—with me and Toto still on it—forward, and then the men sat the new one in its place. Travis pulled off the plastic and then lifted me in his arms, setting me on the soft cushions.

“You got a new one?” I asked, grinning from ear to ear.

“Yep, and a couple of other things, too. Thanks, guys,” he said as the movers lifted the old couch and left the way they came.

“There goes a lot of memories,” I smirked.

“None that I want to hold on to.” He sat beside me and sighed, watching me for a moment before he pulled off the tape that held the gauze on his arm. “Don't freak out.”

My mind raced with what could be under that bandage. I imagined a burn or stitches or something equally gruesome.

He pulled the bandage back and I gasped at the simple black script tattooed across the underside of his wrist, the skin around it red and shiny from the
antibiotic he had smeared on. I shook my head in disbelief as I read the word.

Pigeon

“Do you like it?” he asked.

“You had my name tattooed on your wrist?” I said the words, but it didn't sound like my voice. My mind stretched in every direction, and yet I managed to speak in a calm, even tone.

“Yeah.” He kissed my cheek as I stared in disbelief at the permanent ink in his skin.

“I tried to talk him out of it, Abby. He hasn't done anything crazy in a while. I think he was having withdrawal,” Shepley said, shaking his head.

“What do you think?” Travis prompted.

“I don't know what to think,” I said.

“You should have asked her first, Trav,” America said, shaking her head and covering her mouth with her fingers.

“Asked her what? If I could get a tattoo?” he frowned, turning to me. “I love you. I want everyone to know I'm yours.”

I shifted nervously. “That's permanent, Travis.”

“So are we,” he said, touching my cheek.

“Show her the rest,” Shepley said.

“The rest?” I said, looking down to his other wrist.

Travis stood, pulling up his shirt. His impressive six-pack stretched and tightened with the
movement. Travis turned, and on his side was another fresh tattoo spanning the length of his ribs.

“What is that?” I asked, squinting at the vertical symbols.