Walking Disaster (Beautiful Disaster #2)

“And I’m not about to be the first one!” she said, tugging on the door. “Move, damn it!”


I nodded, taking a step back. The last thing I wanted was for her to leave, but it was better than her getting so pissed off that she ended up telling me to fuck off.

America put the car in reverse, and I watched Abby through the window.

“You’re going to call me tomorrow, right?” I asked, touching the windshield.

“Just go, Mare,” she said, looking straight ahead.

When the brake lights were no longer visible, I retreated into the apartment.

“Travis,” Shepley warned. “No messes, bro. I mean it.”

I nodded, trudging to my room in defeat. It seemed that just when I was getting a handle on things, my fucking temper would rear its ugly head. I had to get it under control, or I was going to lose the best thing that ever happened to me.

To pass the time, I cooked some pork chops and mashed potatoes, but just rolled it all around on my plate, unable to eat. Laundry helped to knock out an hour, and then I decided to give Toto a bath. We played for a while, but then even he gave up and curled up on the bed. Staring at the ceiling, obsessing about how stupid I’d been, wasn’t appealing, so I decided to pull all the dishes out of the cabinet and wash them by hand.

Longest night of my life.

The clouds began to turn colors, signaling the sun. I grabbed the bike keys and went for a drive, ending up in front of Morgan Hall.

Harmony Handler was just leaving for a jog. She watched me for a moment, keeping her hand on the door.

“Hey, Travis,” she said with her typical small smile. It quickly faded. “Wow. Are you sick or something? Do you need me to take you somewhere?” I must have looked like hell. Harmony had always been a sweetheart. Her brother was a Sig Tau, so I didn’t know her all that well. Little sisters were off-limits.

“Hey, Harmony,” I said, trying a smile. “I wanted to surprise Abby with breakfast. Think you could let me in?”

“Uh,” she trailed off, looking back through the glass door. “Nancy might freak. Are you sure you’re okay?”

Nancy was Morgan Hall’s dorm mom. I’d heard of her, but never seen her, and doubted she would even notice. The word around campus was that she drank more than the residents and was seldom seen outside of her room.

“Just a long night. C’mon.” I smiled. “You know she won’t care.”

“Okay, but it wasn’t me.”

I held my hand to my heart. “I promise.”

I made my way upstairs, knocking softly on Abby’s door.

The knob turned quickly, but the door opened slowly, gradually revealing Abby and America across the room. Kara’s hand slipped from the doorknob back under the covers of her bed.

“Can I come in?”

Abby sat up quickly. “Are you okay?”

I walked in and fell to my knees before her. “I’m so sorry, Abby. I’m sorry,” I said, wrapping my arms around her middle and burying my head in her lap.

Abby cradled my head in her arms.

“I’m uh . . . ,” America stuttered, “I’m gonna go.”

Abby’s roommate Kara stomped around the room, getting her shower supplies. “I’m always very clean when you’re around, Abby,” she said, slamming the door behind her.

I looked up at Abby. “I know I get crazy when it comes to you, but God knows I’m tryin’, Pidge. I don’t wanna screw this up.”

“Then don’t,” she said simply.

“This is hard for me, ya know. I feel like any second you’re going to figure out what a piece of shit I am and leave me. When you were dancing last night, I saw a dozen different guys watching you. You go to the bar, and I see you thank that guy for your drink. Then that douche bag on the dance floor grabs you.”

“You don’t see me throwing punches every time a girl talks to you. I can’t stay locked up in the apartment all the time. You’re going to have to get a handle on your temper.”

“I will,” I said, nodding. “I’ve never wanted a girlfriend before, Pigeon. I’m not used to feeling this way about someone . . . about anyone. If you’ll be patient with me, I swear I’ll get it figured out.”

“Let’s get something straight; you’re not a piece of shit, you’re amazing. It doesn’t matter who buys me drinks or who asks me to dance or who flirts with me. I’m going home with you. You’ve asked me to trust you, and you don’t seem to trust me.”

I frowned. “That’s not true.”

“If you think I’m going to leave you for the next guy that comes along, then you don’t have much faith in me.”

I tightened my grip. “I’m not good enough for you, Pidge. That doesn’t mean I don’t trust you, I’m just bracing for the inevitable.”

“Don’t say that. When we’re alone, you’re perfect. We’re perfect. But then you let everyone else ruin it. I don’t expect a 180, but you have to pick your battles. You can’t come out swinging every time someone looks at me.”

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