“I guess I’m just an idiot, then. You’re on a roll tonight, Trav,” she said, reaching for the door handle.
I cupped her shoulders. She was doing it again, the oblivious routine I’d become so accustomed to. The time to show my cards was now. “The way I feel about you . . . it’s crazy.”
“You got the crazy part right,” she snapped, pulling away from me.
“I practiced this in my head the whole time we were on the bike, so just hear me out.”
“Travis—”
“I know we’re fucked up, all right? I’m impulsive and hot tempered, and you get under my skin like no one else. You act like you hate me one minute, and then you need me the next. I never get anything right, and I don’t deserve you . . . but I fucking love you, Abby. I love you more than I’ve loved anyone or anything, ever. When you’re around, I don’t need booze or money or the fighting or the one-night stands . . . all I need is you. You’re all I think about. You’re all I dream about. You’re all I want.”
She didn’t speak for several seconds. Her eyebrows raised, and her eyes looked dazed as she processed everything I’d said. She blinked a few times.
I cupped each side of her face and looked into her eyes. “Did you sleep with him?”
Abby’s eyes glossed over, and then she shook her head no. Without another thought, my lips slammed into hers, and I slipped my tongue inside her mouth. She didn’t push me away; instead her tongue challenged mine, and she gripped my T-shirt in her fists, pulling me close. An involuntary hum emanated from my throat, and I wrapped my arms around her.
When I knew I had my answer, I pulled back, breathless. “Call Parker. Tell him you don’t wanna see him anymore. Tell him you’re with me.”
She closed her eyes. “I can’t be with you, Travis.”
“Why the hell not?” I asked, letting go.
Abby shook her head. She had proven herself unpredictable a million times before, but the way she kissed me had meant more than friendship, and had too much behind it to just be sympathy. That left me with only one conclusion.
“Unbelievable. The one girl I want, and she doesn’t want me.”
She hesitated before she spoke. “When America and I moved out here, it was with the understanding that my life was going to turn out a certain way. Or, that it wouldn’t turn out a certain way. The fighting, the gambling, the drinking . . . it’s what I left behind. When I’m around you it’s all right there for me in an irresistible, tattooed package. I didn’t move hundreds of miles away to live it all over again.”
“I know you deserve better than me. You think I don’t know that? But if there was any woman made for me . . . it’s you. I’ll do whatever I have to do, Pidge. Do you hear me? I’ll do anything.”
She turned away from me, but I wouldn’t give up. She was finally talking, and if she walked away this time, we might not get another chance.
I held the door shut with my hand. “I’ll stop fighting the second I graduate. I won’t drink a single drop again. I’ll give you the happy ever after, Pigeon. If you just believe in me, I can do it.”
“I don’t want you to change.”
“Then tell me what to do. Tell me and I’ll do it,” I pleaded.
“Can I borrow your phone?” she asked.
I frowned, unsure what she would do. “Sure.” I pulled my phone from my pocket, handing it to her.
She fingered the buttons for a moment, and then dialed, closing her eyes as she waited.
“I’m sorry for calling you so early,” she stammered, “but this couldn’t wait. I . . . can’t go to dinner with you on Wednesday.”
She had called Parker. My hands trembled with apprehension, wondering if she was going to ask him to pick her up—to save her—or something else.
She continued, “I can’t see you at all, actually. I’m . . . pretty sure I’m in love with Travis.”
My whole world stopped. I tried to replay her words over. Had I heard them correctly? Did she really just say what I thought she had, or was it just wishful thinking?
Abby handed the phone back to me, and then reluctantly peered up into my eyes.
“He hung up,” she said with a frown.
“You love me?”
“It’s the tattoos,” she said, flippant and shrugging, as if she hadn’t just said the one thing I’d ever wanted to hear.
Pigeon loved me.
A wide smile stretched across my face. “Come home with me,” I said, enveloping her in my arms.
Abby’s eyebrows shot up. “You said all that to get me in bed? I must have made quite an impression.”
“The only thing I’m thinking about right now is holding you in my arms all night.”
“Let’s go.”
I didn’t hesitate. Once Abby was securely on the back of my bike, I raced home, taking every shortcut, rushing every yellow light, and weaving in and out of the little traffic there was at that time of the morning.