Beautiful Disaster 01 (7 page)

Read Beautiful Disaster 01 Online

Authors: Jamie McGuire

After flipping off the light, he crawled into the bed beside me.

“You’re sleeping here, too?” I asked, turning to look at him. The full moon outside the windows cast shadows across his face. “Well, yeah. This is my bed.”

“I know, but I….” I paused. My only other options were the couch or the recliner.

Travis grinned and shook his head. “Don’t you trust me by now? I’ll be on my best behavior, I swear,” he said, holding up fingers that I was sure the Boy Scouts of America had never considered using.

I didn’t argue, I simply turned away and lay my head on the pillow, tucking the covers behind me so there was a clear barrier between his body and mine.

“Goodnight, Pigeon,” he whispered into my ear. I could feel his minty breath on my cheek, giving rise to goose bumps on every inch of my flesh. Thank God it was dark enough that he couldn’t see my embarrassing reaction, or the flush of my cheeks that followed.

 

It seemed like I had just closed my eyes when I heard the alarm. I reached over to turn it off, but wrenched back my hand in horror when I felt warm skin beneath my fingers. I tried to recall where I was. When the answer hit me, it mortified me that Travis might have thought I’d done it on purpose.

“Travis? Your alarm,” I whispered. He still didn’t move. “Travis!” I said, nudging him. When he still didn’t stir, I reached across him, fumbling in the dim light until I felt the top of the clock. Unsure of how to turn it off, I smacked the top of it until I hit the snooze button, and then fell against my pillow with a huff.

Travis chuckled.
“You were awake?”
“I promised I’d behave. I didn’t say anything about letting you lay on me.”

“I didn’t
lay
on you,” I protested. “I couldn’t reach the clock. That has to be the most annoying alarm I’ve ever heard. It sounds like a dying animal.”

He reached over and flipped a button. “You want breakfast?”
I glared at him, and then shook my head. “I’m not hungry.”
“Well, I am. Why don’t you ride with me down the street to the café?”

“I don’t think I can handle your lack of driving skills this early in the morning,” I said. I swung my feet over the side of the bed and shoved them into my slippers, shuffling to the door.

“Where are you going?” he asked.

“To get dressed and go to class. Do you need an itinerary while I’m here?”

Travis stretched, and then walked over to me, still in his boxers. “Are you always so temperamental, or will that taper off once you believe I’m not just creating some elaborate scheme to get in your pants?” His hands cupped my shoulders and I felt his thumbs caress my skin in unison.

“I’m
not
temperamental.”

He leaned in close and whispered in my ear. “I don’t want to sleep with you, Pidge. I like you too much.”

He walked past me to the bathroom, and I stood, stunned. Kara’s words replayed in my mind. Travis Maddox slept with every one; I couldn’t help but feel deficient in some way knowing he had no desire to even
try
to sleep with me.

The door opened again, and America walked through. “Wakey, wakey, eggs ‘n bakey!” she smiled, yawning.
“You’re turning into your mother, Mare,” I grumbled, rifling through my suitcase.
“Oooh…did someone miss some sleep last night?”
“He barely breathed in my direction,” I said acerbically.
A knowing smile brightened America’s face. “Oh.”

“Oh,
what
?”

“Nothing,” she said, returning to Shepley’s room.
Travis was in the kitchen, humming a random tune while scrambling eggs. “You sure you don’t want some?” he asked.
“I’m sure. Thanks, though.”

Shepley and America walked in, and Shepley pulled two plates from the cabinet, holding them out as Travis shoveled a pile of steaming eggs onto each one. Shepley sat the plates on the bar, and he and America sat together, satisfying the appetite they more than likely worked up the night before.

“Don’t look at me like that, Shep. I’m sorry, I just don’t want to go,” America said.

“Baby, the House has a date party twice a year,” Shepley spoke as he chewed. “It’s a month away. You’ll have plenty of time to find a dress and do all that girl stuff.”

“I would, Shep…that’s really sweet…but I’m not gonna know anyone there.”
“A lot of the girls that come don’t know a lot of people there,” he said, surprised at the rejection.
She slumped in her chair. “The sorority bitches get invited to those things. They’ll all know each other…it’ll be weird.”
“C’mon, Mare. Don’t make me go alone.”
“Well…maybe you could find someone to take Abby?” she said, looking at me, and then to Travis.

Travis raised an eyebrow, and Shepley shook his head. “Trav doesn’t go to the date parties. It’s something you take your girlfriend to…and Travis doesn’t…you know.”

America shrugged. “We could set her up with someone.”

I narrowed my eyes at her. “I can
hear
you, you know.”

America used the face she knew I couldn’t say no to. “
Please
, Abby? We’ll find you a nice guy that’s funny and witty, and you know I’ll make sure he’s hot…I promise you’ll have a good time! And who knows? Maybe you’ll hit it off.”

Travis threw the pan in the sink. “I didn’t say I wouldn’t take her.”

I rolled my eyes. “Don’t do me any favors, Travis.”

“That’s not what I meant, Pidge. Date parties are for the guys with girlfriends, and it’s common knowledge that I don’t do the girlfriend-thing. But I won’t have to worry about you expecting an engagement ring afterward.”

America jutted her lip out. “Pretty please, Abby?”

“Don’t look at me like that!” I complained. “Travis doesn’t want to go, I don’t want to go…we won’t be much fun.”

Travis crossed his arms and leaned against the sink. “I didn’t say I didn’t want to go. I think it’d be fun if the four of us went,” he shrugged.

Everyone’s eyes focused on me, and I recoiled. “Why don’t we hang out here?”

America pouted and Shepley leaned forward. “Because I have to go, Abby. I’m a freshman; I have to make sure everything’s moving smoothly, everyone has a beer in their hand, things like that.”

Travis walked across the kitchen and wrapped his arm around my shoulders, pulling me to his side. “C’mon, Pidge. Will you go with me?”

I looked at America, then at Shepley, and finally to Travis. “Yes,” I sighed.

America squealed and hugged me, and then I felt Shepley’s hand on my back. “Thanks, Abby,” Shepley said.

CHAPTER THREE

cheap shot

 

Finch took another drag. The smoke flowed from his nose in two thick streams. I angled my face toward the sun as he regaled me with the recent weekend of dancing, booze and a very persistent new friend.

“If he’s stalking you, then why do you let him buy you drinks?” I laughed.
“It’s simple, Abby. I’m broke.”
I laughed again, and Finch jabbed his elbow into my side when he caught sight of Travis walking toward us.
“Hey, Travis,” Finch lilted, winking at me.
“Finch,” he nodded. He dangled his keys. “I’m headed home, Pidge. You need a ride?”
“I was just going in,” I said, grinning up at him through my sunglasses.
“You’re not staying with me tonight?” he asked, his face a combination of surprise and disappointment.
“No, I am. I just had to grab a few things that I forgot.”
“Like what?”
“Well, my razor for one. What do you care?”
“It’s about time you shaved your legs. They’ve been tearing the hell outta mine,” he said with an impish grin.

Finch’s eyes bulged as he gave me a quick once over, and I made a face at Travis. “That’s how rumors get started!” I looked at Finch and shook my head. “I’m sleeping in his bed…
just
sleeping.”

“Right,” Finch said with a smug smile.

I smacked Finch’s arm before yanking the door open and climbing the stairs. By the time I reached the second floor, Travis was beside me.

“Oh, don’t be mad. I was just kidding.”
“Everyone already assumes we’re having sex. You’re making it worse.”
“Who cares what they think?”

“I do, Travis!
I
do!” I pushed open my door, shoved my things in a small tote, and then stormed out with Travis trailing behind. He chuckled as he took the bag from my hand, and I glared at him. “It’s not funny. Do you want the whole school to think I’m one of your sluts?”

Travis frowned. “No one thinks that. And if they do, they better hope I don’t hear about it.”
He held the door open for me, and after walking through, I stopped abruptly in front of him.
‘Whoa!” he said, slamming into me.

I flipped around. “Oh my God! People probably think we’re together and you’re shamelessly continuing you’re…
lifestyle
. I must look pathetic!” I said, coming to the realization as I spoke. “I don’t think I should stay with you, anymore. We should just stay away from each other in general for awhile.”

I took my bag from him and he snatched it back.

“No one thinks we’re together, Pidge. You don’t have to quit talking to me to prove a point.”

We engaged in a tug of war with the tote, and when he refused to let go, I growled loudly in frustration. “Have you ever had a girl—that’s a friend—stay with you? Have you ever given girls rides to and from school? Have you eaten lunch with them every day? No one knows what to think about us, even when we tell them!”

He walked to the parking lot, holding my effects hostage. “I’ll fix this, okay? I don’t want anyone thinking less of you because of me,” he said with a troubled expression. His eyes brightened and he smiled. “Let me make it up to you. Why don’t we go to The Dutch tonight?”

“That’s a biker bar,” I sneered, watching him fasten my tote to his bike.

“Okay, then let’s go to the club. I’ll take you to dinner and then we can go to The Red Door. My treat.”

“How will going out to dinner and then to a club
fix
the problem? When people see us out together it will make it worse.”

He straddled his bike. “Think about it. Me, drunk, in a room full of scantily clad women? It won’t take long for people to figure out we’re not a couple.”

“So what am I supposed to do? Take a guy home from the bar to drive the point home?”

“I didn’t say that. No need to get carried away,” he said with a frown.

I rolled my eyes and climbed onto the seat, wrapping my arms around his middle. “Some random girl is going to follow us home from the bar?
That’s
how you’re going to make it up to me?”

“You’re not jealous, are you, Pigeon?”

“Jealous of
what
? The STD infested imbecile you’re going to piss off in the morning?”

Travis laughed, and then started his Harley. He flew toward his apartment at twice the speed limit, and I closed my eyes to block out the trees and cars we left behind.

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