Chapter 12
HANNAH
“Hannah.” Travis’s voice is a husky whisper in my dreams. His lips ghost over my temple and he places soft kisses as he brushes my hair away from my face.
Dream Travis is sweet and tender. It isn’t the first time he’s had a starring role in my dreams, but it is the first time I’ve woken up with memories to compare the different versions of him.
I stretch my legs out under the covers at the same time I realize my phone alarm is going off. My muscles ache as I turn and reach toward my nightstand, only to realize several things at once.
Number one: I’m not in my own bed. I’m in a hotel in Vegas. But this is not the room I’m sharing with Kinsley and Skylar. Or I’m seeing double because this room is huge.
Number two: I have no idea where my phone is, but it is in fact not on the nightstand beside the bed. Someone else’s black phone case lies face down there instead, next to a colorful flower arrangement.
And number three, and this one is important: I’m not alone.
“’Morning.” Travis’s voice is deep and thick with sleep.
I squeeze my eyes shut and count to three, hoping when I open them again, I’ll have imagined it all. The voice, the room, the arm around my waist, and the hard…everything pressed in behind me.
“Oh god,” I say when reality slams into me. I cover my face with both hands and slowly turn over, then peek out between my fingers.
If I weren’t heading into a panic attack, I might notice how good Travis looks first thing in the morning. His dark hair falls onto his forehead more than usual, stubble dotting his jaw, and a sleepy expression that’s somehow both sweet and hot as hell.
He smiles that uneven smile with one side of his mouth pulling higher than the other and lifts an arm to rub the back of his neck. He’s not wearing a shirt and the way the sheet hangs low around his hips, I think it might not be the only thing he isn’t wearing.
I get to my feet quickly, relieved to find I’m not naked, but that relief is short-lived because I’m wearing his shirt. The one he had on last night before we…oh god, what did we do?
The continuous beeping of my alarm draws my attention again and I choose to focus on that.
I turn in a circle, searching for it and then move in the direction of the sound.
I find it under a pile of my things—dress, shoes, purse—carefully placed on a chair in the corner of the room.
Kinsley will be so happy to know that I took very good care of her dress even while making very bad decisions.
I silence the alarm and then there’s nothing left to do but freak out.
“You look like you’re crashing out,” he says, sitting up in the bed. That sleepy, charming, slightly cocky expression is still plastered on his face. He moves like he’s going to stand.
“Woah.” I hold my hands up in front of me, blocking him from my view. “Don’t move. Just stay there…covered.”
“I think it might be a little too late to worry about seeing my dick.”
Well, that confirms my suspicions that he’s naked and that I…we…I’m never drinking again.
I groan loudly, then hurriedly pick up my clothes and look around for the bathroom. This hotel room is so big I think I could get lost. And way nicer than the one I was planning to sleep in before…I hold in another groan.
Shut inside the bathroom, I stop in front of the mirror.
I look worse than I feel. My hair is a tangled mess and what remains of last night’s makeup is smudged under my eyes.
I drop my head and try to remember how I got here.
We were dancing and drinking and then…my throat is thick with a swallow as the memory of kissing him resurfaces.
I bring two fingers to my lips. They’re swollen and tender.
I think we did a lot more kissing. And…other stuff.
Try as I might, there’s nothing after the club.
Travis’s scent clings to the shirt I’m wearing. I drop my nose to the collar and inhale. A faint memory resurfaces of me telling him I liked the way he smelled. There goes my dignity along with my pride.
My phone pings, this time with a text from Kinsley reminding me that our car to the airport is coming in thirty minutes.
I don’t even know where I am, but she doesn’t seem concerned for my well-being so I must have told her I was leaving with Travis.
Hopefully she can fill in a few more key details as well, like, what the hell was I thinking?
I assure her I’m on my way and then change quickly back into my dress and heels. At least I’m in the one city where walking around like this before noon is perfectly acceptable. I pull up the map on my phone, relieved to see I’m in the same hotel as Kinsley and Skylar. One less disaster to fix.
“Hannah?” Travis knocks lightly on the door, making me jump and my heart race. “Everything okay?”
Speaking of disasters…
I pull open the door. Travis stands on the other side, thankfully not naked.
He’s pulled on his dress pants from last night but left them unbuttoned.
A light trail of dark hair descends from his belly button and disappears into his boxers.
His hand is still poised in a fist like he was going to knock again.
His gaze sweeps over me in a slow, appreciative way that makes my stomach dip.
“I have to go.” I breeze by him, handing him his shirt as I go.
“Wait,” he says. “Don’t rush out. I ordered breakfast and we should talk.”
It’s a more mature, direct response than I was expecting.
He wants to chat about what happened last night.
Meanwhile, all I want to do is flee. I can’t think with him looking so…
so…damn good. I might be questioning the decisions that led me into this room, but I can no longer deny how much I’m attracted to him.
Or how good it felt to kiss him. I can only imagine everything else was just as good.
“I really have to go. Kinsley and Skylar are already downstairs. Our flight leaves soon.”
“Ride back with me and the guys. We have room on the jet.”
How different is his life from mine? I sat in a middle seat in the back of a commercial flight because I couldn’t afford the thirty-five-dollar upgrade to a roomier seat, and he rode here on a private plane.
“I can’t.”
“Can’t or don’t want to?” There’s a flicker of hurt on his face that I don’t have the time or the emotional bandwidth to dissect.
“My friends are waiting for me.”
He nods and smiles, though it’s not his usual easy one. “Got it.”
“I’ll see you back in Moonshot,” I say, feeling the need to smooth over some of the weirdness. It isn’t his fault I drank too much and put myself in this situation.
I grab my purse and start for the door. My hand is on the handle, so close to freedom, when Travis says, “Hannah, wait.”
I pause, muscles tensing before I look over my shoulder.
“Don’t forget your bouquet.” He walks over to the nightstand and picks up the floral arrangement I’d noticed earlier.
The flowers are light pink and purple, gathered and held together with a ribbon.
As he walks it to me, I replay his words while staring at the strangely familiar and yet unfamiliar flowers.
“That’s not mine,” I say. And wait, did he say bouquet? As in…
His grin resurfaces, along with a little of his usual playfulness. “Actually, it is, wife.”