Walking Disaster (Beautiful Disaster #2)

Brad seemed conflicted, his eyes nervously darting from me to his dance partner. “Sorry, Abby,” he said, slowly pulling his arms away. He retreated to the stairs.

“How I feel about you right now, Travis . . . it very closely resembles hate.”

“Dance with me,” I pleaded, shifting to keep my balance.

The song ended and Abby sighed. “Go drink another bottle of whiskey, Trav.” She turned to dance with the only single guy on the dance floor.

The tempo was faster, and with every beat, Abby moved closer and closer to her new dance partner. David, my least favorite Sig Tau brother, danced behind her, grabbing her hips. They smiled as they two-timed her, putting their hands all over her body. David grabbed her hips and dug his pelvis into her ass. Everyone stared. Instead of feeling jealous, guilt washed over me. This is what I had reduced her to.

In two steps, I bent down and wrapped my arm around Abby’s legs, throwing her over my shoulder, shoving David to the ground for being such an opportunistic dick.

“Put me down!” Abby said, pounding her fists into my back.

“I’m not going to let you embarrass yourself over me,” I growled, taking the stairs two at a time.

Every pair of eyes we passed watched Abby kick and scream as I carried her across the room. “You don’t think,” she said while she struggled, “this is embarrassing? Travis!”

“Shepley! Is Donnie outside?” I yelled, ducking from her flailing limbs.

“Uh . . . yeah?” he said.

“Put her down!” America said, taking a step toward us.

“America,” Abby said, squirming, “don’t just stand there! Help me!”

America’s mouth turned up and she laughed once. “You two look ridiculous.”

“Thanks a lot, friend!” she said, incredulous. Once we were outside, Abby only fought harder. “Put me down, dammit!”

I walked over to Donnie’s waiting car, opened the back door, and tossed Abby inside. “Donnie, you’re the DD tonight?”

Donnie turned around, nervously watching the chaos from the driver’s seat. “Yeah.”

“I need you to take us to my apartment,” I said as I got in beside her.

“Travis . . . I don’t think . . .”

“Do it, Donnie, or I’ll shove my fist through the back of your head, I swear to God.”

Donnie immediately put the car into gear and pulled away from the curb. Abby lunged for the door handle. “I’m not going to your apartment!”

I grabbed one of her wrists, and then the other. She leaned down, sinking her teeth into my forearm. It hurt like hell, but I just closed my eyes. When I was sure she’d broken the skin and it felt like fire was shooting up my arm, I growled to offset the pain.

“Do your worst, Pidge. I’m tired of your shit.”

She released me and then thrashed around again, trying to hit me, more for being insulted than trying to get away. “My shit? Let me out of this fucking car!”

I pulled her wrists close to my face. “I love you, dammit! You’re not going anywhere until you sober up and we figure this out!”

“You’re the only one that hasn’t figured it out, Travis!”

I released her wrists, and she crossed her arms, pouting the rest of the way to the apartment.

When the car slowed to a stop, Abby leaned forward. “Can you take me home, Donnie?”

I opened the door, and then pulled Abby out by the arm, swinging her over my shoulder again. “Night, Donnie,” I said, carrying her up the stairs.

“I’m calling your dad!” Abby cried.

I couldn’t help but laugh. “And he’d probably pat me on the shoulder and tell me that it’s about damn time!”

Abby’s body writhed while I pulled the keys from my pocket. “Knock it off, Pidge, or we’re going to fall down the stairs!”

Finally the door opened, and I stomped straight into Shepley’s room.

“Put. Me. Down!” Abby screamed.

“Fine,” I said, dropping her onto Shepley’s bed. “Sleep it off. We’ll talk in the morning.”

I imagined how pissed she must have been, but even though my back was throbbing from being lambasted by Abby’s fists for the last twenty minutes, it was a relief to have her in the apartment again.

“You can’t tell me what to do anymore, Travis! I don’t belong to you!”

Her words ignited a deep anger inside me. I stomped to the bed, planted my hands on the mattress on each side of her thighs, and leaned into her face.

“Well, I belong to you!” I screamed. I put so much force behind my words, I could feel all the blood rush to my face. Abby met my glare, refusing to even flinch. I looked at her lips, panting. “I belong to you,” I whispered, my anger fading as desire took over.

Abby reached out, but instead of slapping my face, she grabbed each of my cheeks and slammed her mouth into mine. Without hesitation, I lifted her into my arms and carried her into my bedroom, letting us both fall into my mattress.

Jamie McGuire's books