My eyebrows pulled in, confused. I couldn’t imagine what had happened while I was sleeping that would cause him so much anguish. “I don’t know what’s going on, but I’m here.”
“You’re here? As in you’re staying? With me?”
I knew that my expression must have been ridiculous, but my head was spinning from both the alcohol and Travis’s bizarre questions. “Yes. I thought we discussed this last night?”
“We did.” He nodded, encouraged.
I searched the room with my eyes, thinking. His walls were no longer bare as they were when we had first met. They were now peppered with trinkets from places that we’d spent time together, and the white paint was interrupted by black frames holding pictures of me, us, Toto, and our group of friends. A larger frame of the two of us at my birthday party replaced the sombrero that once hung by a nail above his headboard.
I narrowed my eyes at him. “You thought I was going to wake up pissed at you, didn’t you? You thought I was going to leave?”
He shrugged, making a poor attempt at the indifference that used to come so easily to him. “That is what you’re famous for.”
“Is that what you’re so upset about? You stayed up all night worrying about what would happen when I woke up?”
He shifted as if his next words would be difficult. “I didn’t mean for last night to happen like that. I was a little drunk, and I followed you around the party like some fucking stalker, and then I dragged you out of there, against your will … and then we … ..” he shook his head, clearly disgusted with the memories playing in his mind.
“Had the best sex of my life?” I smiled, squeezing his hand.
Travis laughed once, the tension around his eyes slowly melting away. “So we’re okay?”
I kissed him, touching the sides of his face with tenderness. “Yes, dummy. I promised, didn’t I? I told you everything you wanted to hear, we’re back together, and you’re still not happy?”
His face compressed around his smile.
“Travis, stop. I love you,” I said, smoothing the worried lines around his eyes. “This absurd standoff could have been over at Thanksgiving, but …”
“Wait … what?” he interrupted, leaning back.
“I was fully prepared to give in on Thanksgiving, but you said you were done trying to make me happy, and I was too proud to tell you that I wanted you back.”
“Are you fucking kidding me? I was just trying to make it easier on you! Do you know how miserable I’ve been?”
I frowned. “You looked just fine after break.”
“That was for you! I was afraid I’d lose you if I didn’t pretend to be okay with being friends. I could have been with you this whole time? What the fuck, Pigeon?”
“I …” I couldn’t argue; he was right. I had made us both suffer, and I had no excuse. “I’m sorry.”
“You’re sorry? I damn near drank myself to death, I could barely get out of bed, I shattered my phone into a million pieces on New Year’s Eve to keep from calling you … and you’re sorry?”
I bit my lip and nodded, ashamed. I had no idea what he’d been through, and hearing him say the words made a sharp pain twist inside my chest. “I’m so … so sorry.”
“You’re forgiven,” he said with a grin. “Don’t ever do it again.”
“I won’t. I promise.”
He flashed his dimple and shook his head. “I fucking love you.”
Chapter Twenty-One
SMOKE
The weeks passed, and it was a surprise to me how quickly spring break was upon us. The expected stream of gossip and stares had vanished, and life had returned to normal. The basements of Eastern U hadn’t held a fight in weeks. Adam made a point of keeping a low profile after the arrests had led to questions about what exactly had gone on that night, and Travis grew irritable waiting for a phone call to summon him to his last fight of the year, the fight that would pay most of his bills for the summer and well into the fall.
The snow was still thick on the ground, and on the Friday before break, one last snowball fight broke out on the crystalline lawn. Travis and I weaved through the flying ice to the cafeteria, and I held tight to his arm, trying to avoid both the snowballs and falling to the ground.
“They’re not going to hit you, Pidge. They know better,” Travis said, holding his red, cold nose to my cheek.