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“He just has stuff going on,” America added.

“What kind of stuff?” I asked.

Shepley shrugged and turned his attention to his plate. “You should know by now that it takes patience and a forgiving attitude to be friends with Travis. He’s his own universe.”

I shook my head. “That’s the Travis everyone else sees … not the Travis I know.”

Shepley leaned forward. “There’s no difference. You just have to ride the wave.”

After class, I rode with America to the apartment to find Travis’s motorcycle gone. I went into his room and curled into a ball on his bed, resting my head on my arm. Travis had been fine that morning. As much time as we had spent together, I couldn’t believe I didn’t see that something had been bothering him. Not only that, it disturbed me that America seemed to know what was going on and I didn’t.

My breathing evened out and my eyes grew heavy; it wasn’t long before I fell asleep. When my eyes opened again, the night sky had darkened the window. Muffled voices filtered down the hall from the living room, including Travis’s deep tone. I crept down the hall, and then froze when I heard my name.

“Abby gets it, Trav. Don’t beat yourself up,” Shepley said.

“You’re already going to the date party. What’s the harm in asking her out?” America asked.

I stiffened, waiting for his response. “I don’t want to date her; I just want to be around her. She’s … different.”

“Different how?” America asked, sounding irritated.

“She doesn’t put up with my bullshit, it’s refreshing. You said it yourself, Mare. I’m not her type. It’s just not … like that with us.”

“You’re closer to her type than you know,” America said.

I backed up as quietly as I could, and when the wooden boards creaked beneath my bare feet, I reached over to pull Travis’s bedroom door shut, and then walked down the hall.

“Hey, Abby,” America said with a grin. “How was your nap?”

“I was out for five hours. That’s closer to a coma than a nap.”

Travis stared at me for a moment, and when I smiled at him, he walked straight toward me, grabbed my hand, and pulled me down the hall to his bedroom. He shut the door, and I felt my heart pounding in my chest, bracing for him to say something else to crush my ego.

His eyebrows pulled in. “I’m so sorry, Pidge. I was an asshole to you earlier.”

I relaxed a bit, seeing the remorse in his eyes. “I didn’t know you were mad at me.”

“I wasn’t mad at you. I just have a bad habit of lashing out at those I care about. It’s a piss-poor excuse, I know, but I am sorry,” he said, enveloping me in his arms.

I nestled my cheek against his chest, settling in. “What were you mad about?”

“It’s not important. The only thing I’m worried about is you.”

I leaned back to look up at him. “I can handle your temper tantrums.”

His eyes scanned my face for several moments before a small smile spread across his lips. “I don’t know why you put up with me, and I don’t know what I’d do if you didn’t.”

I could smell the mixture of cigarettes and mint on his breath, and I looked at his lips, my body reacting to how close we were. Travis’s expression changed and his breathing staggered—he had noticed, too.

He leaned in infinitesimally, and then we both jumped when his cell phone rang. He sighed, pulling it from his pocket.

“Yeah. Hoffman? Jesus … all right. That’ll be an easy grand. Jefferson?” He looked at me and winked. “We’ll be there.” He hung up and took my hand. “Come with me.” He pulled me down the hall. “That was Adam,” he said to Shepley. “Brady Hoffman will be at Jefferson in ninety minutes.”

Shepley nodded and stood up, digging his cell phone from his pocket. He quickly tapped in the information, sending exclusive text invitations to those who knew about the Circle. Those ten or so members would text ten members on their list, and so on, until the every member knew exactly where the floating fight ring would be held.

“Here we go,” America said, smiling. “We’d better freshen up!”

The air in the apartment was tense and buoyant at the same time. Travis seemed the least affected, slipping on his boots and a white tank top as if he were leaving to run an errand.


Tags: Jamie McGuire Beautiful Romance