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.”