Beautiful Disaster 01 (23 page)

“I’d rather cut off my arm,” he sighed.

He relaxed his cheek against my hair. I didn’t have a reply, and Travis seemed to have said everything he needed to, so we sat in silence. Once in awhile, Travis would squeeze me tighter to his side. I gripped his shirt, not knowing how else to make him feel better other than to just let him hold me.

When the sun began to set, I heard a faint knock at the door. “Abby?” America’s voice sounded small on the other side of the wood.

“Come in, Mare,” Travis answered.

America walked in with Shepley, and she smiled at the site of us tangled in each other’s arms. “We were going to grab a bite to eat. You two feel like making a Pei Wei run?”

“
Agh
…Asian
again
, Mare? Really?” Travis asked.

I smiled. He sounded like himself again.

America noticed as well. “Yes, really. You guys coming or not?”

“I’m starving,” I said.

“Of course you are, you didn’t get to eat lunch,” he said, frowning. He stood up, bringing me with him. “Come on. Let’s get you some food.”

He kept his arm around me, and didn’t let go until we were in the booth of Pei Wei.

As soon as Travis left for the bathroom, America leaned in. “So? What did he say?”

“Nothing,” I shrugged.

She raised an eyebrow. “You were in his room for two hours. He didn’t say anything?”

“He usually doesn’t when he’s that mad,” Shepley said.

“He had to have said something,” America prodded.

“He said he got a little carried away taking up for me, and that he didn’t tell Parker the truth when he walked in. That’s it,” I said, straightening the salt and pepper.

Shepley shook his head, closing his eyes.

“What, Baby?” America asked, sitting taller.

“Travis is,” he sighed, rolling his eyes. “Forget it.”

America wore a stubborn expression. “Oh, hell no, you can’t just—,”

She cut off when Travis sat down and swung his arm behind me. “Damn it! The food’s not here yet?”

We laughed and joked until the restaurant closed, and then filed into the car for the ride home. Shepley carried America up the stairs on his back, but Travis stayed behind, tugging on my arm to keep me from following. He looked up at our friends until they disappeared behind the door, and then offered a regretful smile. “I owe you an apology for today, so I’m sorry.”

“You’ve already apologized. It’s fine.”

“No, I apologized for Parker. I don’t want you thinking I’m some psycho that goes around attacking people over the tiniest thing,” he said, “but I owe you an apology because I didn’t defend you for the right reason.”

“And that would be….” I prompted.

“I lunged at him because he said he wanted to be next in line, not because he was teasing you.”

“Insinuating there is a line is plenty reason for you to defend me, Trav.”

“That’s my point. I was pissed because I took that as him wanting to sleep with you.”

After processing what Travis meant, I grabbed the sides of his shirt and pressed my forehead against his chest. “You know what? I don’t care,” I said, looking up at him. “I don’t care what people are saying, or that you lost your temper, or why you messed up Chris’ face. The last thing I want is a bad reputation, but I’m tired of explaining our friendship to everyone. To hell with ‘em.”

Travis’ eyes turned soft, and the corners of his mouth turned up. “Our
friendship
? Sometimes I wonder if you listen to me at all.”

“What do you mean?”

“Let’s go in. I’m tired.”

I nodded, and he held me against his side until we were inside the apartment. America and Shepley had already shut themselves in their bedroom, and I slipped in and out of the shower. Travis sat with Toto outside while I dressed in my pajamas, and within half an hour, we were both in bed.

I rested my head on my arm, breathing out a long, relaxing puff of air. “Just two weeks left. What are you going to do for drama when I move back to Morgan?”

“I don’t know,” he said. I could see his tormented frown, even in the darkness.

“Hey,” I touched his arm. “I was kidding.”

I watched him for a long time, breathing, blinking, and trying to relax. He fidgeted a bit and then looked over at me. “Do you trust me, Pidge?”

“Yeah, why?”

“C’mere,” he said, pulling me against him. I stiffened for a second or two before resting my head on his chest. Whatever was going on with him, he needed me near him, and I couldn’t have objected even if I’d wanted to. It felt right lying next to him.

CHAPTER NINE

promise

Finch shook his head. “Okay, so you’re with Parker, or with Travis? I’m confused.”

“Parker’s not talking to me, so that’s sort of up in the air right now,” I said, bouncing to readjust my backpack.

He blew out a puff of smoke, and then picked a piece of tobacco from his tongue. “So are you with Travis?”

“We’re friends, Finch.”

“You realize everyone thinks you two are having some sort of freaky friends-with-benefits thing going on that you’re not admitting to, right?”

“I don’t care. They can think what they want.”

“Since when? What happened to the nervous, mysterious, guarded Abby I know and love?”

“She died from the stress of all the rumors and assumptions.”

“That’s too bad. I’m going to miss pointing and laughing at her.”

I smacked Finch’s arm, and he laughed. “Good. It’s about time you quit pretending,” he said.

“What do you mean?”

“Honey, you’re talking to someone’s who’s lived most of his life pretending. I spotted you a mile away.”

“What are you trying to say, Finch? That I’m closet lesbian?”

“No, that you’re hiding something. The cardigans, the demure sophisticate that goes to fancy restaurants with Parker Hayes…that’s not you. Either you were a small town stripper or you’ve been to rehab. The latter’s my guess.”

I laughed out loud. “You are a
terrible
guesser!”

“So what’s your secret?”

“If I told you, it wouldn’t be a secret, now would it?”

His features sharpened with an impish grin. “I’ve shown you mine, now show me yours.”

“I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but your sexual orientation isn’t exactly a secret, Finch.”

“Fuck! And I thought I had the mysterious sex kitten thing going for me,” he said, taking another drag.

I cringed before I spoke. “Did you have a good home life, Finch?”

“My mom’s great…my dad and I had a lot of issues to work out, but we’re good, now.”

“I had Mick Abernathy for a father.”

“Who’s that?”

I giggled. “See? It’s not a big deal if you don’t know who he is.”

“Who is he?”

“A mess. The gambling, the drinking, the bad temper…it’s hereditary in my family. America and I came here so I could start fresh, without the stigma of being the daughter of a drunken has-been.”

“A gambling has-been from Wichita?”

“I was born in Nevada. Everything Mick touched turned to gold back then. When I turned thirteen, his luck changed.”

“And he blamed you.”

“America gave up a lot to come here with me so I could get away, but I get here and walk face-first into Travis.”

“And when you look at Travis…,”

“It’s all too familiar.”

Finch nodded, flicking his cigarette to the ground. “Shit, Abby. That sucks.”

I narrowed my eyes. “If you tell anyone what I just told you, I’ll call The Mob. I know some of them, you know.”

“Bullshit.”

I shrugged. “Believe what you want.”

Finch eyed me suspiciously, and then smiled. “You are officially the coolest person I know.”

“That’s sad, Finch. You should get out more,” I said, stopping at the cafeteria entrance.

He pulled my chin up. “It’ll all work out. I’m a firm believer in the whole things-happening-for-a-reason adage. You came here, America met Shep, you found your way to The Circle, something about you turned Travis Maddox’s world upside down. Think about it,” he said, planting a quick kiss on my lips.

“Hey now!” Travis said. He grabbed me by the waist, lifted me off my feet, returning me to the ground behind him. “You’re the last person I’d have to worry about that shit from, Finch! Throw me a bone, here!” he teased.

Finch leaned to the side of Travis and winked. “Later, Cookie.”

When Travis turned to face me, his smile faded. “What’s the frown for?”

I shook my head, trying to let the adrenaline run its course. “I just don’t like that nickname. It has some bad memories attached to it.”

“Term of endearment from the youth minister?”

“No,” I grumbled.

Travis punched his palm. “Do you want me to go beat the piss out of Finch? Teach him a lesson? I’ll take him out.”

I couldn’t help but smile. “If I wanted to take Finch out, I’d just tell him Prada went out of business, and he’d finish the job for me.”

Travis laughed, nudging toward the door. “Let’s go! I’m wasting away, here!”

We sat at the lunch table together picking on each other with pinches and elbows to the ribs. Travis’ mood was as optimistic as the night I lost the bet. Everyone at the table noticed, and when he instigated a mini-food fight with me, it garnered the attention of those sitting at the tables around us.