“Travis.”
“It’s not like that, Saylor. I’m cold and…” He shakes his head, and that’s when I see him shiver.
I nod quickly. “Let me grab you a blanket.” I run to my room and pull the quilt off my bed. When I return, he’s on my couch with his arms extended, one to hand me his jeans and the other to take the blanket from me.
“Thank you.”
“What are you doing here?” I ask as I curl up at the end of my sofa, leaving a full cushion between us.
“I had nowhere else to go.”
“What about your house?”
He snuggles under the blanket, trying to get warm. I reach for the remote to turn the fire up, knowing that it won’t take much time to raise the temperature of the room.
“It’s crazy there. The press is camped out front. They’re always talking and have their lights flashing into my windows. People walk by and scream at me, calling me names. I can’t do anything or go anywhere without them following me. I can’t even order food without it being on television.”
Anxiety starts to overtake my thoughts. “So they followed you here?”
“No; I snuck out my back door and took the alley. I needed to get out of there.”
“But why here?”
Travis looks at me with his disheveled hair and five o’clock shadow. “Because you believe me.”
His words are heart crushing and cause me to choke on the air I was exhaling. I try to make my cough sound like an ailment and not a reaction that I’ve been caught off guard. He pats my back as I cover my mouth, waiting for the tickle to subside. I reach for my glass of cider only to realize there is hardly a drop left.
“Can I get you something to drink?” I’m off the couch in a flash, not waiting for him to answer.
“A beer or something very hard so I can forget everything.”
I ignore his request and brew us both a cup of coffee instead. I have a feeling it’s going to be a long night of sitting around, with minimal talking and a lot of thinking. With two mugs in my hand, I offer him one. “Sorry, I don’t drink.”
“Really? Since when?” I know he’s remembering our night together. We drank a lot that night, and neither of us was in any shape to drive, but I did.
“It doesn’t matter. Alcohol is the last thing you need right now.” He takes the mug and brings it to his lips, sipping quietly.
“Is Lucy sleeping?”
“Yeah, she is.” Most of my clients have met Lucy. We’ve attended a lot of the family events that teams hold or she’ll go to games with me. I try not to let family and work mix, but there are times when it can’t be avoided.
“Look, about earlier today—”
“I know,” I say, cutting him off. He doesn’t have to tell me that the heady kiss was a mistake. I already know it was and can’t happen again. The fact that I’m attracted to my client is a no-win for me, and I really need to find a way to overcome the desire I feel for him.
“You know what?” he asks, meeting my gaze.
“That what we did was a mistake.”
He chuckles, reaffirming my feelings. At least that’s what I think he’s doing until his laughter almost sounds sarcastic. Travis sets his coffee cup down on my table and sits back against the couch, running his hand through his damp hair. “Nothing about what happened today, with us, is a mistake, Saylor. I like you a lot, in case you haven’t figured that out yet, and short of skywriting it, I don’t know how else to show you.” He’s looking at me as if he can see right through me.
I swallow hard, and my hands tremble as I try to pretend that he doesn’t have any effect on me, but he does, and I hate it. He makes me feel both weak and desired. Both are emotions that I shouldn’t feel when I’m around him.
“We can’t.”
“I know, you keep saying that, but I don’t understand why. I know you feel something for me.”
Why can this man read me like an open book? I’ve tried to stay shut off from him, avoid being the PR member that has to deal with him, unless directed by Jeffrey. And yet, here I am smack-dab in the middle of his biggest crisis, eager to help him, desperate for his attention, and determined to keep him a mile away from me. “It’s not about what I feel or don’t feel, Travis. It’s unprofessional for us to be involved.”