‘Whoa!” he said, slamming into me.
I flipped around. “Oh my God! People probably think we’re together and you’re shamelessly continuing you’re…lifestyle. I must look pathetic!” I said, coming to the realization as I spoke. “I don’t think I should stay with you, anymore. We should just stay away from each other in general for awhile.”
I took my bag from him and he snatched it back.
“No one thinks we’re together, Pidge. You don’t have to quit talking to me to prove a point.”
We engaged in a tug of war with the tote, and when he refused to let go, I growled loudly in frustration. “Have you ever had a girl—that’s a friend—stay with you? Have you ever given girls rides to and from school? Have you eaten lunch with them every day? No one knows what to think about us, even when we tell them!”
He walked to the parking lot, holding my effects hostage. “I’ll fix this, okay? I don’t want anyone thinking less of you because of me,” he said with a troubled expression. His eyes brightened and he smiled. “Let me make it up to you. Why don’t we go to The Dutch tonight?”
“That’s a biker bar,” I sneered, watching him fasten my tote to his bike.
“Okay, then let’s go to the club. I’ll take you to dinner and then we can go to The Red Door. My treat.”
“How will going out to dinner and then to a club fix the problem? When people see us out together it will make it worse.”
He straddled his bike. “Think about it. Me, drunk, in a room full of scantily clad women? It won’t take long for people to figure out we’re not a couple.”
“So what am I supposed to do? Take a guy home from the bar to drive the point home?”
“I didn’t say that. No need to get carried away,” he said with a frown.
I rolled my eyes and climbed onto the seat, wrapping my arms around his middle. “Some random girl is going to follow us home from the bar? That’s how you’re going to make it up to me?”
“You’re not jealous, are you, Pigeon?”
“Jealous of what? The STD infested imbecile you’re going to piss off in the morning?”
Travis laughed, and then started his Harley. He flew toward his apartment at twice the speed limit, and I closed my eyes to block out the trees and cars we left behind.
After climbing off his bike, I smacked his shoulder. “Did you forget I was with you? Are you trying to get me killed?”
“It’s hard to forget you’re behind me when your thighs are squeezing the life out of me.” A smirk came with his next thought. “I couldn’t think of a better way to die, actually.”
“There is something very wrong with you.”
We had barely made it inside when America shuffled out of Shepley’s bedroom. “We were thinking about going out tonight. You guys in?”
I looked at Travis and grinned. “We’re going to swing by the sushi place before we go to Red.”
America’s smile spanned from one side of her face to the other. “Shep!” she cried, scampering into the bathroom. “We’re going out tonight!”
I was the last one in the shower, so Shepley, America and Travis were impatiently standing by the door when I stepped out of the bathroom in a black dress and hot pink heels.
America whistled. “Hot damn, Mama!”
I smiled in appreciation, and Travis held out his hand. “Nice legs.”
“Did I mention that it’s a magic razor?”
“I don’t think it’s the razor,” he smiled, pulling me out the door.
We were far too loud and obnoxious in the sushi bar, and had already had a night’s worth to drink before we stepped foot in The Red Door. Shepley pulled into the parking lot, taking time to find a space.
“Sometime tonight, Shep,” America muttered.
“Hey. I have to find a wide space. I don’t want some drunken idiot dinging the paint.”
Once we parked, Travis leaned the seat forward and helped me out. “I meant to ask you about your ID’s. They’re flawless. You didn’t get them around here.”