Beautiful Disaster 02 Walking Disaster (29 page)

She curled up beside me, seeming satisfied with my words. When she relaxed against my chest, she sighed.

“What’s wrong?” I 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,” I said, pressing my lips gently against her temple.

She nuzzled her cheek against my skin, and I pulled her tight. The night’s events seemed like a dream. The first time I bring a girl home, and not only is she the daughter of a famous
poker player, but she could also easily bankrupt us all in a single hand. For being the family fuckup, I felt like I had finally gained a little respect from my older brothers. And it was all
because of Abby.

I lie in bed awake, unable to stop my mind long enough to doze off. Abby’s breathing had evened out half an hour before.

My cell lit up and buzzed just once, signaling a text message. I opened it up, and immediately frowned. The sender’s name scrolled across: Jason Brazil.

Very carefully, I pulled my arm out from under Abby’s head to use both hands to type a message back.

Had Abby not been sleeping beside me, I would have jumped on my bike and went straight to the Sig Tau house and shoved my fist through Parker’s five-thousand-dollar grill. Maybe taken a
bat to his Porsche.

Half an hour passed before the rage shakes finally began to subside. Abby hadn’t moved. That same subtle noise that she made with her nose when she slept helped to slow my heart rate, and
before long I was able to take her back into my arms and relax.

Abby wasn’t calling Parker. If she was unhappy, she would have told me. I took a deep breath and watched the shadow of the tree outside dance against the wall.

“
HE DIDN
’
T
,”
SHEPLEY SAID, STOPPING MIDSTEP
.

The girls left us at the apartment alone so they could shop for a dress for the date party, so I talked Shepley into driving us to the local furniture store.

“He sure as shit did.” I turned my phone for Shepley to see. “Brazil texted me last night and ratted his ass out.”

Shepley sighed and shook his head. “He had to know that would get back to you. I mean . . . how could it not? Those guys are bigger gossips than the girls.”

I stopped, seeing a couch that caught my eye. “I bet that’s why he did it. Hoping it would get back to me.”

Shepley nodded. “Let’s face it. The old you would have gone into a jealous rage and scared her right into Parker’s arms.”

“Bastard,” I said as a salesman approached.

“Good morning, gentleman. Can I help you find something in particular?”

Shepley threw himself onto the couch, and then bounced a few times before nodding his head. “I approve.”

“Yeah. I’ll take this one,” I said.

“You’ll take it?” he said, a little surprised.

“Yeah,” I said, a little surprised myself at his reaction. “Do you deliver?”

“Yes, sir, we do. Would you like to know the price?”

“It says right here, doesn’t it?”

“Yes.”

“So, I’ll take it. Where do I pay?”

“Right this way, sir.”

The salesman tried unsuccessfully to talk me into some more items that matched the couch, but I had a few more things to buy that day.

Shepley gave them our address, and the salesman thanked me for being the easiest sale of the year.

“Where are we going now?” he asked, trying to keep pace with me to the Charger.

“Calvin’s.”

“You getting new ink?”

“Yep.”

Shepley watched me, wary. “What are you doing, Trav?”

“What I always said I would do if I met the right girl.”

Shepley stepped in front of the passenger door. “I’m not sure this is a good idea. Don’t you think you should discuss it with Abby first . . . you know, so she doesn’t
freak out?”

I frowned. “She might say no.”

“It’s better she says no than you do it and she runs out of the apartment because you scared her off. Things have been going good between you two. Why don’t you just let it
ride for a while?”

I cupped my hands on Shepley’s shoulders. “That doesn’t sound like me at all,” I said, and then moved him aside.

Shepley jogged around the front of the Charger, and then slid into the driver’s seat. “I’m still taking the official position that this is a bad idea.”

“Noted.”

“Then where?”

“Steiner’s.”

“The jewelry store?”

“Yep.”

“Why, Travis?” Shepley said, his voice more stern than before.

“You’ll see.”

He shook his head. “Are you
trying
to run her off?”

“It’s going to happen, Shep. I just want to have it. For when the time is right.”

“No time anytime soon is right. I am so in love with America that it drives me crazy sometimes, but we’re not old enough for that shit, yet, Travis. And . . . what if she says
no?”

My teeth clenched at the thought. “I won’t ask her until I know she’s ready.”

Shepley’s mouth pulled to the side. “Just when I think you can’t get any more insane, you do something else to remind me that you are far beyond bat shit crazy.”

“Wait until you see the rock I’m getting.”

Shepley craned his neck slowly in my direction. “You’ve already been over there shopping, haven’t you?”

I smiled.

F
RIDAY. THE DAY OF THE DATE PARTY, THREE DAYS
after Abby smiled about the new couch and then minutes later turned to
whiskey over my tats.

The girls were gone doing what girls do on the day of date parties, and I was sitting in front of the apartment, on the steps, waiting for Toto to take a dump.

For reasons I couldn’t pinpoint, my nerves were shot. I’d already taken a couple swigs of whiskey to try to settle my ass down, but it was no use.

I stared at my wrist, hoping whatever ominous feeling I had was just a false alarm. As I started to tell Toto to hurry up because it was fucking cold outside, he hunched over and did his
business.

“It’s about time, little man!” I said, scooping him up and walking inside.

“Just called the florist. Well, florists. The first one didn’t have enough,” Shepley said.

I smiled. “The girls are going to shit. Did you make sure they would deliver before they get home?”

“Yeah.”

“What if they come home early?”

“They’ll be here in plenty of time.”

I nodded.

“Hey,” Shepley said with a half smile. “You nervous about tonight?”

“No,” I said, frowning.

“You are, too, you pussy! You’re nervous about date night!”

“Don’t be a dick,” I said, retreating to my room.

My black shirt was already pressed and waiting on its hanger. It wasn’t anything special—one of two button-down shirts that I owned.

The date party would be my first, yes, and I was going with my girlfriend for the first time, but the knot in my stomach was from something else. Something I couldn’t quite put my finger
on. As if something terrible was lurking in the immediate future.

On edge, I went back into the kitchen and poured another shot of whiskey. The doorbell rang, and I looked up from the counter to see Shepley jogging across the living room from his room, a towel
around his waist.

“I could’ve gotten it.”

“Yeah, but then you would have had to stop crying in your Jim Beam,” he grumbled, pulling on the door. A small man carrying two mammoth bouquets bigger than he was stood in the
doorway.

“Uh, yeah . . . this way, buddy,” Shepley said, opening the door wider.

Ten minutes later, the apartment was beginning to look the way I’d imagined. The thought of getting Abby flowers before the date party had come to mind, but one bouquet wasn’t
enough.

Just as one delivery guy left, another arrived, and then another. Once every surface in the apartment proudly displayed at least two or three ostentatious bouquets of red, pink, yellow, and
white roses, Shepley and I were satisfied.

I took a quick shower, shaved, and was slipping on a pair of jeans as the Honda’s engine whirred loudly in the parking lot. A few moments after it shut off, America pushed through the
front door, and then Abby. Their reaction to the flowers was immediate, and Shepley and I were grinning like idiots as they squealed in delight.

Shepley looked around the room, standing proud. “We went to buy you two flowers, but neither of us thought just one bouquet would do it.”

Abby wrapped her arms around my neck. “You guys are . . . you’re amazing. Thank you.”

I smacked her ass, letting my palm linger on the gentle curve just above her upper thigh. “Thirty minutes until the party, Pidge.”

The girls dressed in Shepley’s room while we waited. It took me all of five minutes to button up my shirt, find a belt, and slip on socks and shoes. The girls, however, took for fucking
ever.

Shepley, impatient, knocked on the door. The party had started fifteen minutes earlier.

“Time to go, ladies,” Shepley said.

America walked out in a dress that looked like a second skin, and Shepley whistled, sparking an instant smile on her face.

“Where is she?” I asked.

“Abby’s having some trouble with her shoe. She’ll be out in just a sec,” America explained.

“The suspense is killin’ me, Pigeon!” I called.

The door squeaked, and out walked Abby, fidgeting with her short, white dress. Her hair was swept to one side, and even though her tits were carefully hidden, they were accentuated by the
tight-fitting fabric.

America elbowed me, and I blinked. “Holy shit.”

“Are you ready to be freaked out?” America asked.

“I’m not freaked out—she looks amazing.”

Abby smiled with mischief in her eyes, and then slowly turned around to show the steep dip of the fabric in the back.

“Okay, now I’m freakin’ out,” I said, walking over to her and turning her away from Shepley’s eyes.

“You don’t like it?” she asked.

“You need a jacket.” I jogged to the rack and hastily draped Abby’s coat over her shoulders.

“She can’t wear that all night, Trav.” America chuckled.

“You look beautiful, Abby,” Shepley said, trying to apologize for my behavior.

“You do,” I said, desperate to be heard and understood without causing a fight. “You look incredible . . . but you can’t wear that. Your skirt is . . . wow, your legs are
. . . your skirt is too short and it’s only half a dress! It doesn’t even have a back on it!”

“That’s the way it’s made, Travis.” Abby smiled. At least she wasn’t pissed.

“Do you two live to torture each other?” Shepley frowned.

“Do you have a longer dress?” I asked.

Abby looked down. “It’s actually pretty modest in the front. It’s just the back that shows off a lot of skin.”

“Pigeon,” I said, wincing, “I don’t want you to be mad, but I can’t take you to my frat house looking like that. I’ll get in a fight the first five
minutes.”

She leaned up and kissed my lips. “I have faith in you.”

“This night is gonna suck,” I groaned.

“This night is going to be fantastic,” America said, offended.

“Just think of how easy it will be to get it off later,” Abby said. She pushed up on the balls of her feet to kiss my neck.

I stared up at the ceiling, trying not to let her lips, sticky from her lip gloss, weaken my case. “That’s the problem. Every other guy there will be thinking the same
thing.”

“But you’re the only one that gets to find out,” she lilted. When I didn’t respond, she leaned back to look me in the eyes. “Do you really want me to
change?”

I scanned her face, and every other part of her, and then exhaled. “No matter what you wear, you’re gorgeous. I should just get used to it, now, right?” Abby shrugged, and I
shook my head. “All right, we’re already late. Let’s go.”

I KEPT MY ARMS AROUND ABBY AS WE WALKED ACROSS
the lawn to the Sigma Tau house. Abby was shivering, so I walked quickly and awkwardly with her in tow,
trying to get her out of the cold as fast as her high heels would allow. The second we pushed through the thick, double doors, I immediately popped a cigarette in my mouth to add to the typical
frat party haze. The bass from the speakers downstairs buzzed like a heartbeat under our feet.

After Shepley and I took care of the girls’ coats, I led Abby to the kitchen, with Shepley and America just behind. We stood there, beers in hand, listening to Jay Gruber and Brad Pierce
discuss my last fight. Lexie pawed at Brad’s shirt, clearly bored with the man talk.

“Dude, you got your girl’s name on your wrist? What in the hell possessed you to do that?” Brad said.

I turned over my hand to reveal Abby’s nickname. “I’m crazy about her,” I said, looking down at Abby.