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Keep My Heart (Top Shelf Romance Book 7)

Page 107

by Lex Martin


  And of course, being the cocky bastard that he is, he responds with a smartass comment.

  Travis: Don’t forget to talk shit about me all weekend. Otherwise, Drew might get suspicious.

  Viola: Shouldn’t be too hard. Been doing it for the past ten years. :)

  Travis: So you have lots of practice then. But maybe just slip in a little mention about how big you think my dick is.

  Viola: Not as big as your ego apparently!

  Travis: You can’t help but love both qualities about me, though. ;)

  I laugh to myself, knowing he’s right about that.

  After sending him one last good night text, I grab my Kindle and fall asleep.

  I hear noises coming from outside my door, which means my roommates are up and have absolutely no consideration for anyone else in the house. Rolling over, I grab my phone and see a collection of text messages from Travis.

  Top 5 reasons you have the best boyfriend in the world…

  #1. You’ll always look good on my arm (my very muscular arm, of course).

  #2. I’ll always let you eat the last french fry off my plate, even if you dip them in mayo and it’s the grossest thing ever.

  I chuckle at the second one, remembering when we were kids that he always shared his fries with me because I always ran out before everyone else.

  #3. I’ll always let you be the first to count to 5 — you’re welcome.

  #4. Even though I’d never admit it publicly, I’ll watch your cheesy chick flicks with you (mostly because I hope it ends with you underneath me).

  I laugh at the memory of us watching Bridget Jones’ Diary.

  #5. I’ll eat your pussy for breakfast, lunch, or dinner (actually all 3 because I’m a greedy bastard).

  By his last text, I’m blushing like hell and giggling all at the same time. It still doesn’t feel real. I decide to return the favor and text him back before I have to get ready and leave.

  Top 5 reasons you have the best girlfriend in the world…

  #1-5. She puts up with your shit.

  Bonus reason: Mary-Kate and Ashley (you’re welcome).

  I smile proudly and finally get up to take a shower. Once I’m dressed and my hair is brushed, I head out to the kitchen where my roommates are all hovering over the coffeepot as if it’s going to spew out million-dollar bills at any moment.

  “Who is this stranger?” Ashley asks with a smile.

  “I think she lives here,” Kate adds.

  “We haven’t seen you in years!” Kayla exclaims dramatically.

  I roll my eyes as I drop my bag on top of the table.

  “You’re all drama queens,” I fire back. “And for the record, I do live here between studying and trying to get some sleep.”

  “And getting laid,” Kayla quips. Her light brown hair is twisted up into a messy bun, and her makeup is still on from the night before. We haven’t hung out a lot this semester, but we’ve known each other for the past couple of years. She’s usually the quiet one, too, so the fact that she’s the one to mention that makes me suspicious of what they’re all thinking.

  I furrow my brows, acting confused. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I pretend to look for something in my bag, but I know they can see right through me.

  “You have it written all over you, girlfriend,” Ashley speaks up. “You’re gone for lunch almost every day; you’re distracted when you actually are here, or rather, when you aren’t locked up in your room, and you haven’t been able to wipe that stupid giddy smile off your face for the past week.”

  “So that automatically means I’m getting laid?”

  “Yes,” they all say in unison, and I blush because dammit, I was trying so hard not to be that girl.

  “Well, I’m pleading the fifth.” I grab my bag and toss it over my shoulder. “I’m heading home for the weekend, though, so that means I won’t be back until tomorrow.”

  “Did someone die?” Kate’s question catches me off guard.

  “No, why?”

  “I can’t remember the last time you went home for the weekend.”

  I shrug, knowing she’s right but not wanting to get into the details of it.

  “Drew and I are just going for a short visit; that’s all.”

  “Oh, you’re going with your brother?” Kayla’s voice suddenly increases an octave. Seriously? Why do all my friends want inside Drew’s pants?

  “Yes, and unfortunately, he’s going to torture me with all the details of him and his lame girlfriend.” I wish he wouldn’t.

  “He’s still dating that same girl he met last summer?” she asks.

  I shrug lightly, not sure what’s going on between them at the moment. “On and off, so I’m not certain, but I know Drew’s crazy about her.” God only knows why.

  “Well, tell him hi for me!”

  “Uh, sure!” I slide my shoes on and head toward the door, waving to the rest of them. “Bye, guys!”

  I see a text from Drew filter in, and I quickly read it.

  Drew: Be there in 5. Your ass better be ready.

  I roll my eyes and scoff at his assumption that I wouldn’t be.

  Viola: I’ve been waiting for over a half an hour. Your ass better have Starbucks and a blueberry muffin.

  I might’ve bent the truth a bit, but he doesn’t have to know that. I see Travis messaged me back as well.

  Travis: To be fair to Mary-Kate and Ashley, I think they should be #1-5 on your list. They do work really hard on being firm, perky, and always make sure their nipples are at attention when I’m around. Not to mention, they have this superpower way of communicating to my dick anytime they’re looking for some extra attention. I think that’s a legit skill.

  Viola: You’re ridiculous. P.S. Don’t act so surprised at all my marvelous talents. My pussy has magical powers, too.

  Travis: Wonderful. Now I’m hard.

  I laugh just thinking about how he probably really is hard.

  Viola: Told you. Magical powers.

  Travis: Well, if you want some REAL dick pics this weekend, just let me know. :)

  Smiling, I respond.

  Viola: Why? You know a good porn site?

  Travis: Don’t tempt me, princess…

  Viola: And what fun would that be?

  Drew pulls up in his jacked-up truck just as I hit send, so I stuff my phone into my pocket.

  “About time!” I shout through the window. “I could’ve been kidnapped out here, I’ve been waiting so long.”

  “Shut up and come get your coffee, smartass.”

  “Someone’s in a good mood this morning,” I tease, throwing my bag in the back and hopping in the passenger seat.

  “I’m always in a good mood. What are you talking about?”

  I snort and snap my buckle in place. “Well, are you ready to get this over with?”

  “I’d rather cut my right testicle off.” He groans, pulling out of the parking lot.

  “Well, I know a few friends of mine would be disappointed, so maybe leave them attached for now.”

  He finally breaks a smile and laughs. “Deal.”

  Chapter 9

  Travis

  I’m actually starting to enjoy waking up to no alarm. As hard as it is, I try not to text Viola while she’s with Drew. The less distracted she is, the better, because her body gives her away, and we can’t be having that. And the fact that Drew is around, and Viola doesn’t ever lock her phone makes it a little dangerous.

  My cell vibrates in my pocket, and I pull it out and see my mother’s picture flash across the screen. Quickly, I answer.

  “I was thinking about driving over today to visit you. Want to go out for lunch?”

  “Yeah, Mom, sure. I’d love to see you.” I look around at the mini-disaster the house is in and can’t help but glance at the spot where Viola and I christened the floor. It was a first for me, too.

  An hour later, I decide to get dressed. I’m sure the whole Justin Bieber wifebeater and baggy joggin
g pants look with messy ass hair wouldn’t be acceptable. I at least have to try to look presentable for my mother. When I hear a car door shut, I check the peephole. Before she can knock, I open the door and pull her into a hug.

  “Oh, son! Your face.”

  I smile. “You should see the other guy.”

  “I was worried about you. I stopped by the hospital.”

  “I know, I know. I’m fine.”

  I lock up the house, and then we drive to a deli across town that she loves. Apparently, they serve the best chicken salad in all of California, or so she says. Once we order, I fill her in on everything that’s been going on since the accident.

  “So your car?” She takes a sip of water.

  “Totaled.” I haven’t thought about it too much. Next week, I’ll have to start taking care of business. That car was the first expensive thing I bought myself after I started working at Crawford Marketing.

  “I know how long you saved for it,” she says, looking a little sad.

  “Full coverage is amazing. I’ll get another one. But with heated seats and darker tint.” I laugh, trying to lighten the mood.

  “How’s the job?” She’s asking the usual questions to fill time.

  After our food arrives, she takes a bite of her sandwich. I pick at my salad, but I’m not hungry, as usual.

  “I’m waiting to be cleared to go back to work. I have a follow-up appointment next week.”

  “They still giving you a hard time?”

  I give her a look that tells her everything she wants to know.

  She shakes her head. “Remember when you talked about starting your own business? That was your dream for so long, Travis.”

  My mind temporarily wanders. “Yeah, I do.”

  “Have you given it any more thought?”

  “Sometimes. But only when I’m having a super shitty day at work.”

  She gives me a look once the curse word leaves my mouth.

  “Sorry, but you know what I mean, Mom. They can be so...corporate.”

  We sit in silence for a moment. “What’s holding you back?”

  I haven’t thought about it in a while. It just doesn’t seem feasible, considering I have a great job that pays me well. Most people in my class would have died to land the job I did so soon after graduation. Over a thousand people applied for my position. I was the literal needle in the haystack. But I would be lying if I said I haven’t thought about it. Sometimes I look at the people who have been there for over thirty years and pray that I’m not looking into the future. That thought is fucking frightening.

  “The risk,” I say after thinking about it a little longer.

  Mom laughs. Her whole face lights up, and I realize how much I’ve missed her. “And we both know you’re a risk taker. So, what’s the real reason?”

  “Start-up costs, I guess. I wouldn’t know where to begin, and it seems like a lot of work. What if I fail?”

  “And that’s exactly how dreams die. Funding isn’t an issue, okay? I have some money put aside that I would be happy to loan you. And I know how much you save. Tell me this, have you ever failed at anything that you’ve really wanted in life?”

  I’m not sure how we got on this subject. “Mom, I could never take your money. You’re supposed to use that to get away.”

  The laugh lines along with the stress that she’s endured over the years are on her face. My mother is my hero. She’s stronger than anyone I’ve ever met, and my heart constantly breaks for her. But she won’t leave. As much as I beg, she won’t. I’ve offered to pay for an apartment for her. I’ve tried everything over the years. But she’s just as stubborn as I am. Noticing my reaction and sadness, she gives me a sweet smile.

  “Everything is okay. Since your dad’s been sick, things have changed.”

  I take a drink of water. He’s been sick for a while now. Lots of testing to try to figure out what the issue is, but I don’t want to talk about him, and she knows that.

  “He’s not doing well, honey. Last week, we received his test results. He has a pretty aggressive form of cancer.” Her voice drops low, almost to a whisper.

  It’s the first time I’ve heard this, and for a moment it catches me off guard. Cancer? I don’t even have the words to explain how this makes me feel. This is why she wanted to have lunch because a conversation like this isn’t one you have over the phone. All the pieces of the puzzle begin to fit together.

  “I don’t care.” I know I’m being harsh and stubborn.

  Knowing better, she gives me a look. Though he’s not my favorite person in the world, I would never wish cancer on him.

  “You’re more compassionate than that. And whether you want to admit it or not, your father is a part of you. When he’s gone, I don’t want you to regret not seeing him.”

  “I left home for a reason.” My body tenses and my responses are short. I just want to change the subject while I process it all.

  “I know, I know. I’m sorry. I’m just worried about you and him, and it’s a lot for me. I don’t want you to regret anything in your life. There are a lot of things I wish I would have done differently and didn’t. I don’t want the same for you. Don’t allow your internal anger to stop you from seeing your father while he’s still alive. If any man on this earth has regrets, it’s him. He knows what he’s done.” A single tear streams down her cheek. She wipes it with her napkin, then composes herself. My mother is practically unbreakable.

  I grab her hand across the table. “Mom.”

  She looks up at me, and I squeeze her hand just a little harder. “I’m sorry. I’m always here for you.”

  “You’re my rock, Travis. Always so strong and brave. I love you.”

  “I love you too, Mom.”

  We leave the restaurant and listen to oldies on the radio on the way back to the house. My phone dings, and I smile when I see Viola’s name.

  Viola: Please save me. Drew is singing Britney Spears. This is the longest, most torturous ride home ever.

  I smile as I type out a response.

  Travis: Well, I’m a SLAVE FOR YOU, baby, even though you’re TOXIC, I was BORN TO MAKE YOU HAPPY.

  Viola: YOU DRIVE ME CRAZY!

  Travis: I’M NOT A GIRL, NOT YET A WOMAN!

  Viola: That actually makes a lot more sense now.

  Travis: Don’t get cocky.

  I chuckle at our Britney Spears references and glance back up when Mom pulls into the driveway, and I reach over and give her a hug.

  “Tell Drew and Viola I said hello.”

  “I will.”

  “Take care of that girl, Travis.”

  “Huh?” I’m confused.

  “Viola. I know you two are seeing each other.”

  I give her a look. There’s no way she could know this. Or could she?

  “Mother's intuition. Mothers always know.”

  I smile, not denying it, and get out of the car. I stand in the driveway with my arms across my chest, and as she backs out of the driveway, I wave. Mom thinks she’s sly, but someone she knows must have seen us together when we had lunch. I try to think back to that moment, but all I can remember is Viola’s face.

  I plop down on the couch, trying to focus. My father has cancer. It’s a lot to take in, and so unexpected. Guilt sweeps over me for reacting the way I did, and I try not to get wrapped up in the thought of it. Next week, I’ll call Mom and ask more questions. I’ll be there for her. I have to.

  Once the afternoon lag kicks in, I make some coffee and sit on the couch and mindlessly flip through channels. I lean back and prop up my feet. Before I fall asleep, my phone vibrates in my pocket. I pull it out and swipe it open.

  It’s a text message from...Mia.

  Mia: Travis? Is this still your number?

  I’m half tempted not to reply or say no. But a simple confirmation from Drew would ruin that.

  Travis: What’s up?

  I’m not interested in what she has to say, and I’m a little pissed that she has the aud
acity to text me.

  Mia: Please don’t tell Drew what happened.

  I read the text over and over again and don’t realize I’m clenching my jaw until I hear my teeth grinding against each other.

  Travis: Nothing happened.

  Mia: Good. I’m glad we’re on the same page then.

  Her text catches me off guard. Same page? No, we’re fucking not. We’re not even reading out of the same book.

  Travis: What are you playing at? This isn’t a fucking game, Mia.

  She instantly texts back.

  Mia: ;)

  I’m half tempted to throw my phone across the room, but the only person who that would affect is me. My anger is seeping out, just like my father’s had so many times over the years. Control. I need to find it—fast.

  Instead of texting her back and saying exactly what I think about her, I take the higher road and ignore it. She’s being a bitch and acting out. As soon as I find the right time to speak to Drew, I’m going to tell him exactly what happened the night of the accident, whether he wants to hear it or not, because he deserves to know.

 

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