by Lex Martin
“Princess…”
“Travis?”
“I’ve missed you.” He sounds weak, and his throat is raspy.
My heart thumps hard in my chest, and I choke back tears. “I’ve been calling every day to get updates. I’ve been so worried.”
“I know. I’m being released today, though, and then we can talk. The doctor’s walking in. I’ll see you soon.”
“Okay,” I add just before the call ends.
My head is a bit clearer now, knowing he’s finally being released, but I won’t be at ease until Travis is home. Finding out he was with a girl—Mia, of all people—still makes my chest clench with a sharp ache. Will there always be a Mia in the picture? Or Sarah from the Bar or a Rachel? I can’t remember a time in Travis King’s life where he didn’t have a long line of conquests at his beck and call. That old nagging feeling returns in the pit of my stomach, but I force it away.
I drag myself out of bed and head to the kitchen for some coffee. While I wait for it to brew, I begin collecting my things from around the house because class starts back tomorrow and I need to get back to my dorm. It feels like a different lifetime from who I was when I left the dorm two weeks ago.
Once I’ve placed my crap by the door, I pour a cup of steaming hot coffee, then add a splash of milk and a spoonful of sugar. As I’m stirring my liquid magic, Drew speaks from behind me, scaring the living shit out of me. I jump, nearly spilling my perfect concoction of caffeine.
“What the hell?” I gasp, glaring at him. “Warn a girl before you creep up on her.”
“Someone’s jumpy this morning.” He moves around me and grabs a mug for himself.
I watch as he pours it and instantly takes a sip.
“Gross.” I make a gagging noise. “How can you drink that black?”
“I can’t drink basic bitch coffee, Vi.” He takes another sip just to taunt me.
“At least add some sugar.”
He wrinkles his nose and shakes his head. “What’s up with your crap by the door? Did you finally get your letter to Hogwarts?”
I glare at him. “He’s got jokes,” I say with mock amusement.
“So, which house will you be sorted in? Slytherin or Gryffindor? Actually, now I’m thinking you’re more of a Hufflepuff.” His lips curl into a cocky smirk.
“You’re such a jerk!” I playfully swing at him, but he’s all muscles and barely flinches. “You better take that back!” I try to hold back laughter, but the way he dodges my hits makes it hard.
“You hit like a girl,” he quips, smirking over his mug.
I roll my eyes. “I am a girl,” I say. “A girl who used to kick your ass, too.”
He snorts. “You mean, I let you kick my ass.”
“You’re such a liar!”
He tilts his head at me, daring me to challenge him.
“You know, for someone who mocks Harry Potter all the time, you sure do know a lot about it.” I cross my arms and give him an evil grin because I know he’s just as nerdy as I am. He just likes to hide it behind his big muscles, inked arms, and shiny badge.
“I’ve seen the movies a hundred times, thanks to you. Only nerds read the books.”
I snarl. “Are you trying to piss me off this early in the morning?”
He finishes his coffee with a smirk on his face even though I’ve only taken a single sip of mine. After pouring another cup of coffee and chugging it, he speaks up again. “I’m picking Travis up from the hospital in a few. I asked the chief if I could come in a little later today because he’s being discharged any minute. Wanna ride up there with me?”
“Nah, I’m good.” I try to put on my best poker face, but I’m not sure how convincing I look. I didn’t dare mention I already knew. I hide my excitement and put up my front. I pretend to feel indifferent about him coming home, though my heart instantly races at the sound of his name, and I still have a million questions.
“All right. Well, I should be back in a few hours then.”
“Okay.” I avoid eye contact, taking another drink of the best coffee in the world, hoping it will cover my emotions that are ready to boil over. I exhale and look at Drew. He’s staring at me intently, and for a moment, I wonder what the hell he’s going to ask me. Does he know? No. He’s not smiling or anything, and I begin to freak out.
“What?” I ask, reluctantly.
Drew sets his empty cup down.
“It’s about you and Travis.”
My heart races and I instantly shake my head at the way he’s looking at me. I fight the urge to say anything in case I’m being paranoid.
“Ask me anything,” I lie, channeling my inner Travis King is an asshole act that I’ve perfected over the years. I swallow hard, watching and waiting for him to speak. Damn Drew. The anticipation eats me alive.
“I need a favor.”
“Class starts tomorrow, and I won’t really be around to do any more favors.”
I nod my head toward my bags that are waiting for me at the front door.
“Well, see… that’s not really going to work for me. Or Travis.”
My mouth falls open. He’s way smarter than he looks, and I know whatever he’s about to say has already been worked out in his head. Even when we were kids, he was a negotiator, and not much has changed since then.
“This week between classes, do you think you could come over and check on him?” He flashes a genuine smile, one of those charming smirks that make girls like Courtney swoon. Being his sister, I have a genetic immunity to his charm.
“I won’t have time,” I say with certainty, hoping I sound convincing, but I know I can make it work.
All he does is laugh, not believing my words.
“I won’t be around to help him, but since you’re right down the road...”
“Don’t act like you don’t goof off when you’re on patrol. All those donuts...”
“Number one: I don’t eat that shit, and you know it. Number two: You already survived him during spring break, so what're a few hours between classes?”
Focusing on my coffee, I don’t have any words. At least not any I can say aloud. All sorts of thoughts are running through my mind, but Drew’s voice brings me back to reality.
“Look, I know you can’t stand to be in the same room as him, and you’ll probably poison him by the weekend, but he really needs you, and you’re a little genius, so you don’t need to study as much as you do.”
My heart feels like it may beat out of my chest. My palms are sweaty, and Drew is enjoying putting me on the spot a little too much.
“Please, Vi. I’ll even have Starbucks waiting for you after class.”
Fighting a smile, I say, “Wow, you really are desperate.” I almost feel bad for playing him like this.
“I’d do anything for Travis,” he states so genuinely. “But I can’t be late to work even if I begged. The chief will have my head, and my partner won’t take my shit.”
I let out a deep breath, acting defeated. “All right, fine. But you owe me huge. Any favor that I can use at any time I want.”
Drew holds out his hand, and we shake on it. “Deal. I’ll allow you to cash in on one reasonable favor. I’m a cop, not a millionaire.”
I smile. “Venti white mocha.”
“What the hell does that mean?” He looks utterly confused, and I chuckle at his expense.
“My Starbucks order. I want a venti white mocha with an extra shot and a blueberry muffin.”
“Wait, I didn’t agree on the muffin—”
I shoot him a look, challenging him to fall back on our deal.
“Fine,” he states between gritted teeth. “You play to bust balls.”
“It’s one of my best qualities,” I say with a cheesy grin.
“You have to actually be helpful, though, Vi. He’s going to be sore and on pain meds. Just make him some lunch and make sure he stays hydrated.”
“So, play Betty Crocker and greet his one-night stands at the door?” The words leave
my mouth before I can stop myself.
He shakes his head at me with a knowing grin. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you two were secretly in love with each other.”
I nearly choke on my saliva.
“Relax, I was just kidding.” He pats me on the back. “Anyway, I gotta head out. The chief about had an aneurysm when I asked for a half day.”
He walks over and wraps his big arms around me, squeezing me so tight it hurts. I squeal and try to wiggle out of his tight grip. He’s always been so much bigger than me, and he knows how much I hate it when he hugs me like that because it’s painful. “Drew, stop!”
“You’re the best little sister ever.” He releases me, and before he walks out of the kitchen, he turns and smiles. “Thanks again. It means a lot to me, and I know it’ll mean a lot to him. He’ll appreciate the help, even if he doesn’t say it.”
When I hear the door click shut, I let out a deep sigh. As much as I should be keeping my distance while Travis is in this condition, I can't fathom the thought of him being alone all week while he's recovering.
I reach for my phone and text Courtney, letting her know the new plan. I’ll invite her over and allow her to drool over Drew one night this week.
Viola: Drew gave me his stupid begging eyes and bribed me with Starbucks. I’ve been voluntold to take care of Travis all week, but I’m not complaining.
Courtney: I could stare into Drew’s gorgeous eyes for hours. I can’t wait to come over and “visit.” It’s almost as if Drew is setting you up for “success” ... if you know what I mean.
Viola: Focus, Court. And gross. I’ll text you once he’s home.
I grab my bags and boxes and carry them out to my car. Returning to school tomorrow is almost bittersweet. After I place everything in my trunk, I head back to Drew’s room and wait. I sit on the edge of the bed, and fall back and stare at the ceiling. The realization that I’m going to be here between classes makes me feel more nervous than before about being around Travis. But seeing him bruised and broken is going to kill me.
I startle from the bed at the sound of the front door closing. I look around and realize I must’ve fallen asleep. I check my phone and see a few messages Drew sent letting me know they were on the way and they were almost home.
I can hear the faint sound of Drew’s voice followed by the muffled sounds of Travis’s voice. Moments later, a light knock taps against the door, and I sit straight up, hair a mess, and yell that it's open.
Drew cracks open the door. “Travis is in bed. He’s pretty tired, and I have to get to work. If he wakes up and needs something, can you help?”
“Does this mean house arrest begins now?”
“That’s a great idea. Maybe I can see about getting you one of those ankle bracelets for convicts so I can track your every move.”
I roll my eyes at him.
“Thanks, sis! You’re the best.” Drew winks before he shuts the door.
I try to concentrate on my breathing, but all I can hear are the hard beats of my heart. Standing up, I brush my fingers through my hair, then adjust my shirt and make sure I look completely unaffected before slipping out of Drew’s room. I walk the short distance down the hall to Travis’s room but stop before opening it.
I can’t believe how anxious I feel right now, seeing him for the first time since the hospital. I have no idea what he remembers or if he remembers me being there at all. I don’t know what to expect, considering our phone conversation was so short. The unknown has been hard and continues to drive me crazy.
Swallowing hard, I softly knock on the door.
“Come in.” I hear the weakness in his voice, and it takes everything in me to move my feet.
I push open the door and see Travis propped up on pillows. His face is slightly swollen and bruised, and it looks like he hasn’t slept in days, though that’s all he’s been doing for a week. I cringe when I study the bandages on his head where it smacked into the glass.
He watches my expression. “You should see the other guy.” His lips turn up in a cocky smirk.
I shake my head and lick my lips that suddenly feel dry. “I’m sure it was an unfair match.”
“Well, four thousand pounds of badass muscle car against an eighty-thousand-pound semi wasn’t exactly a fair fight, but hey, I live to tell the tale.” He smiles as if he’s trying to make me laugh and bring light to the situation, which it partially does, given the awkward circumstances.
“Well, I was really worried about you,” I say, taking a step inside but not getting too close. “I’m really glad you’re okay.” The concern is evident in my tone, and my poker face is quickly fading the more I look at him.
“Princess, come here.” His eyes are hooded, his voice sounding pained from my distance. My heart sinks, and I want to run to him and talk to him about everything, but my expression doesn’t change. My feet feel like they are glued to the floor, and I can’t move, not with his eyes on me, looking at me so intensely that it makes me weak.
“Is it safe?” I tilt my lips up slightly.
“I won't break,” he insists.
“Clearly.”
He pats his palm on the bed next to him.
“I don't want to hurt you, though,” I say, hesitating.
“Trust me. The only thing keeping me going the past couple of days was knowing I'd get to see your beautiful face and kiss your soft lips.”
“Well, I see the accident didn’t affect your ability to charm.”
“It’d take a lot more than that.” He winks.
I give in and sit on the edge of the bed next to him, careful to keep my distance.
“I know we should probably talk,” I begin, “but when you’re feeling better. You should be resting so you can get back to your cocky-ass self.”
“Let’s talk now,” he insists, pushing himself up higher on the pillows, but I can tell by the way he cringes that his body is still sore.
I shake my head. “When you feel better, we will. You’re all drugged up on pain meds.”
“It doesn’t have to wait. I’m fine.” He tries to brush off the pain, but I can see right through his bullshit.
“Really?” I give him a pointed look. “How many elements are in the periodic table?”
He furrows his brows. “Seventy-five?”
“Wrong. It’s one hundred and fourteen!” I respond confidently. “See, you’re not in the right state of mind.”
He leans his head back and laughs. I watch as his throat moves and think about the last time we were together in his bed. “To be fair, I wouldn’t know the answer to that question, either way, you little nerd.”
I narrow my eyes at him and hold back a smile.
“Look at us—having an actual conversation without arguing,” he says, covering his hand over mine.
“Don’t get cocky,” I tease. “When the drugs are all out of your system, you’ll be back to pissing me off, I’m sure.”
“I can do that while I’m on drugs,” he mocks.
I laugh because this is the first time in years Travis and I have had a normal conversation.
“Glad to see nothing’s changed then.”
“Princess, come on. I might be bruised in places I didn’t even know could bruise, and my ribs might be fractured and hurt like a motherfucker, but I can see the questions written all over your face. So, just ask me. You know you can ask me anything.”
I pull my lips into my mouth and exhale through my nose. “Fine. Why was Mia naked in your back seat?”
“Going right for the jugular,” he teases.
Maybe I shouldn’t have blurted that out.
“Never mind.” I start shifting off the bed.
“Wait...Viola, please don’t go,” he pleads, and I wait. “There’s a lot we need to talk about. I’ve been lying in bed the last week, and the physical pain is nothing compared to having you walk away from me, knowing I can’t chase you.”
“Then just tell me, because the thought of you with someo
ne else makes me sick.”
“Viola, it’s not what you’re thinking.”
I exhale, staring intently at him. “So, girls just magically end up naked in the back seat of your car?”
“Well, I recall you in the back seat of my car not so long ago…” He smirks, and I hate that the memory sends shivers down my spine. “But why don’t you ask me what you really want to know.”
Heat rushes through me, and I’m too scared to ask if they had sex. The truth is, I want to know everything, every detail. But I’m afraid it will break my heart into a million little pieces, and I’m not sure if I can handle that again.
I shrug, not sure where to even start. I like this side of Travis—sweet and vulnerable, even though I know it won’t last long. “I don’t think I can handle knowing right now.”
“You want to know for the same reason I wanted to punch Axel’s face in.”
“Andrew,” I correct.
He rolls his eyes. “So, just say whatever it is you’re so busy overthinking about.”
I slide farther onto the bed, leaning my back against the wall and crossing my legs. “Which part? Why you were in such a shitty mood when you got home from work? Why did you even leave the house? Why wouldn't you talk to me? How did you end up out of the city with Drew’s crazy ex-girlfriend? I mean, I don’t even know if I want to know the answers to the questions swirling in my mind.”
“And why she was naked in the back seat of my car?” He arches a brow, knowing damn well it’s driving me insane.
“Well, I can do the math in my head,” I say shyly, bowing my head because I don’t think I’m strong enough to hear it.
“You really think that?” I hear the pain in his voice, and I cringe at the way his words cut through me.
“Well, your track history isn’t very promising. Like when you asked my friend, Heather McNeil, out and promised her a good time, only to ditch her at the movie theater when you ran into Betsy St. Clair and ended up making out with her in the parking lot.”
“I was a dumb kid,” he says, “running on hormones.”