6
TRAVIS
When Celine's message pops up on my phone screen, I frown. It's been three days since the weird night at Molly's motel, and I was sure she'd forgotten about our strange agreement.
Hey Travis. Can we hook up later for our 'fake date'?
I place my phone back onto my desk without answering, return to the email I received from a recruiter, and attach my resume. I need to get a job, and messing about with fake dates with a girl immature enough to think that seeking revenge on a cheating ex is a good idea should be the lowest thing on my priority list.
However, as I try to focus on scanning through companies who are currently recruiting for roles I'm qualified for, my eyes keep straying back to the phone and Celine's message.
I agreed to help her out. I could explain it as a moment of weakness by blaming my exhaustion and the pressure of two other men agreeing to the same thing, but that isn't the whole story.
Celine might be doing something crazy, but I get her motivation. When a person you think you can trust cheats on you, a part of you changes forever. The trust you give easily becomes something you place in a cage. The simple act of allowing feelings to develop becomes a road of jagged hot coals and exploding mines.
You want revenge, but nothing can make it any better.
Revenge wastes emotions, but I don't know Celine well enough to tell her to just leave it alone. Looking back at a burned-out relationship won't make her happy. Facing the truth that she trusted wrongly and wasted a load of time on that douchebag, Eddie, isn't something she's ready for.
I feel so far beyond this emotional immaturity. I walked away with my head held high when I faced the same situation. It's what Celine should do, but only a friend can deliver that advice, and we're not friends.
But I do like her, and I do feel sorry for her. My sister Gabriella would expect me to do whatever it takes to help a friend.
It's the way our momma taught us to live our lives.
Picking up my phone, I tap out a quick response. Tonight's fine. Where?
She responds almost immediately with the name of a club. Shit. I don't want to go to that kind of place with an almost stranger. The music's too loud, making it impossible to talk. I can already feel the awkward silence stretching between us, or worse, having to dance.
I'm not a dancer. At least, I don't enjoy doing it in public. I have rhythm, so that isn't the problem. It's more that I find the whole ritual of strangers moving around in the dark weird.
I type out three messages suggesting other places, deleting them repeatedly. She obviously has a good reason for suggesting the bar she has. In the end, I agree to collect her from her dorm at ten pm and then rest back in my chair, stretching my back and dreading the night already.
A girl is waiting outside Celine's dorm as I approach, dressed in a gorgeous dark blue dress and strappy silver heels. With long dark hair set into loose curls, she's a knockout. I dial Celine's number as the girl approaches my car, placing her hand on the handle and pulling the door open. I'm about to tell her she's got the wrong car when I realize that it's Celine.
"Your hair," I gasp. She looks so frickin' different that I'm staring with my mouth open.
She slides into the passenger seat, closes the door, and fastens her seatbelt. "You like it?"
"It's…"
"You don't like it?" She frowns as I try to find the right words. This is some thin ice I'm skating on.
"You look good both ways. It's just a radical change."
"Radical changes are good for the soul."
I get that. I left Germany because I needed that kind of radical change. If dying her hair is what Celine needs to feel good, then all power to her. I just liked her red curls. They made her unique. Now she looks like half the girls out there.
I put the car into drive and flip it around so we're heading in the right direction.
"You're listening to The Eagles."
"Yeah. You know them?"
"Of course. Man, I love this song."
Celine starts to sing along with a voice that's way too sweet for the strumming guitar and gritty lyrics, but she knows all the words.
Glancing at her out of the corner of my eye, I can't help but smile as she presses her hands against her heart and throws everything she has into the song. She's so enthusiastic that I find myself joining in, and we spend the whole journey to the club trying to outdo each other with perfect renditions of the seventies rock classics we both seem to love so much.
The club is only half full when we arrive, but that's okay. I get us drinks, and Celine leads the way to a booth in the upper section that I didn't know existed. The music is loud and pumping and not the kind of thing I enjoy listening to, and I can't drink because I'm driving. But Celine beams at me and touches my arm.
"I know we don't know each other very well, so I appreciate you doing this for me."
"Any friend of my sister's is a friend of mine."
Celine smiles at that. "Gabriella is a really good friend."
"She's a good person."
"And what about you? Are you a good person?"
I let my attention drift to the bar where a blonde bar waitress stacks drinks onto a large tray. Am I a good person? I like to think so, but we all have thoughts and feelings that rest uncomfortably under our skin. I've been having more of those than I'd like recently.
"I try to be," I answer. "I guess that's all we can do."
Celine focuses on her drink, sucking half of it through the straw. "What I'm doing isn't good, is it?"
"Trying to make Eddie jealous?"
"I don't want him to be jealous," she says quickly. "That isn't what this is about. I don't want him back. I wouldn't touch that man with a ten-foot pole. This is about me showing him what he's going to be missing for the rest of his goddamned life. And me washing away all the horrible feelings I have with some new, more enjoyable experiences."
"And how's it working out?"
"Good, so far." Celine tucks her hair behind her ear and rests back in the booth.
"Have you been on dates with Dornan and Elias?"
"Yeah." Her answer doesn't give anything away, but the blush on her cheeks and avoiding eye contact does.
"And did Eddie see you?"
"His friends did."
I nod, understanding that this is about more than Eddie witnessing her moving on. It's about his friends all seeing and realizing how much Eddie screwed up.
"And does that make you feel better?"
Her pretty green eyes meet mine, and the sadness in their depths wraps around my heart and squeezes. But her response is markedly different. "Absolutely." She blinks and plasters a fake smile across her face, but I saw the truth. These bullshit games aren't making her feel better. Not really. They're just something to take her mind off her true feelings. The trouble is, we can bury our hurt beneath layers and layers of distractions, but it still lingers and needs to be dealt with.
"Can I take a selfie of us to post on Instagram?" she asks, already fiddling with her phone and fluffing her hair.
I hate social media, but I get that Celine wants to extend the reach of her games beyond the four walls of this nightclub. Throwing my arm around her shoulder, I focus on the image of us framed on her phone. We're a total contrast now. Light and dark. She smiles broadly, and I focus on looking mean and moody. If Eddie sees this image, I want him to realize that I'm not some simpering college dude he can fuck with. I left all this behind a long time ago.
I watch as she posts the image with some hashtags. When she's done, she places her phone on the table.
"We should dance," she says. "Make sure we get seen by as many people as possible."
"We could sit at the bar," I say. "Would that work?"
Her shoulders slump, but she nods. "Sure."
I take Celine's almost empty glass and mine and find a center spot at the bar with two free stools. Celine glances around for any familiar faces. "I thought it would be busier tonight," she says.
"Do you see Eddie or any of his friends?"
"Only one, and they're not close."
Celine perches on the edge of the stool and nibbles on the side of her finger. Her posture is tight, her shoulders curled forward. The confident woman who asked me to take her out has gone, and in her place is a girl who seems defeated.
It breaks my heart. "Let's give that asshole something to rage about," I say.
Celine seems confused, but I pass her phone. "Another selfie," I say.
When the screen is on camera mode, and she holds it high, I take her pretty face in my hands and kiss her. The camera makes a clicking sound as Celine sighs against my lips. I kiss her deeper, letting my hand cup the back of her neck, pulling her closer to me with a demanding grip. Another click.
Her lips are so soft and searching, and even though we barely know each other, the kiss is both tender and smoking hot.
Jeez.
I can see why Elias was so keen for an opportunity to date Celine. He'd already had a taste and wanted more.
And now, so do I.
Click.
Another photo.
I draw back, staring down into her glazed eyes.
"Are those good enough?"
She nods but doesn't check.
I run the tip of my nose over hers, lowering my eyelids while I catch my breath. "Did Elias and Dornan kiss you?"
"Yes," she whispers.
"Did they fuck you?" The question slips out without enough thought. They know Celine so much better than I do, and if that's where their dates ended up, it has no bearing on what might happen between us tonight.
Do I even want to go there? Stupid fucking question, Trav. Of course, you want to. Whether it's a good idea or not is another question.
"Yes."
"Do you want me to fuck you?" Am I really going there? I guess I am.
"Yes."
"But he won't know, Celine, will he? It'll just be you and me. What's the point in it if he can't see?"
She frowns and looks away, my comment touching the nerve I hoped it would. I want her to see that her actions don't make any sense. She's getting tangled and confused in revenge and lust, and it's a dangerous place to be.
When she turns back, the familiar fire is back in her eyes.
"Eddie doesn't control me, Travis. This isn't about him. It's about me scrubbing the stain of him from every part of me. But if that isn't something you want to do…"
Her eyes challenge me to back away, even as she leans closer to run her top lip between mine.
She's so damned sexy. Too damned sexy for her own good.
"If that's all this is about, then what the fuck are we doing here?"
She blinks, shocked, but I don't know why she is. This is what she's asking for. Was she imagining I'd be more difficult to convince?
Maybe that's it. Celine thought Gabriella's big brother would be less impetuous than her college friends. She thought I'd be mature and cautious and maybe harder to convince to play her games.
I should be.
But because I understand all the shame and feelings of inadequacy that come with being on the receiving end of a cheater, my desire to give her whatever she needs outweighs my need to be a mature and responsible man.
This won't really help her. Not in the long run. If anything, getting mixed up with three different men who are most probably only looking for physical release has the potential to crush all her shattered pieces into dust. My internal voice is correct.
It's a pain now or pain later situation.
I can take her to Molly's. I can do everything she wants me to do to her and more. I can help her hurt herself, but I don't want to. Not with everything I've learned going through the same situation. Not when she deserves so much more.
She's smiling as I walk her to the door. I pause to kiss her, hoping that it will be enough for those watching to make the assumptions Celine wants them to make.
And when we're inside my car, and the music is playing softly, only then do I tell her that I'm taking her home.
"I can't do what you're asking me to do," I say. "Not because I don't want to, because I do. I really do. But because I know using sex to mask feelings is a really self-destructive thing to do."
Celine gapes at me, and then her body stiffens. "You know what, Travis. You're not my big brother, okay? You don't need to take care of me. I'm not some fragile doll. I'm a grown woman, and I know what I'm doing."
I reach out to place my hand on her arm, but she pulls it away. "I care about you. You're a good person. I don't want to be on the same level as your ex."
"We're not dating, so you can't cheat. I don't get what you're trying to say."
"Sex shouldn't be a weapon or a bandage."
She huffs, turns to face front and folds her arms across her chest. "All I'm asking for is a good time, Travis. Not world peace."
This conversation isn't going anywhere, but I don't want Celine to hate me. I don't want her to feel humiliated because I've turned her down. "I like you, Celine. I'm happy to do whatever you want me to do to help you feel better, but this isn't going to work."
"Can you take me home?" she asks through a tight throat.
"Of course." I put the car into drive and focus on the road. My throat feels tight, and my hands tense on the wheel. I can feel Celine's energy, and it's unstable. I can't leave her like this. On the left, we're about to pass a fast-food restaurant that makes incredible desserts. If I pull in and offer her something sweet, it'll give us a chance to end the night better.
She turns to look at me when I signal and pull off the main road. As we approach the counter, I ask her what dessert she'd like to order. I can feel her warring with herself, wanting to turn down my offer but also wanting to go along with my attempt to lift the mood.
"A chocolate fudge sundae," she says, and when I've placed our orders, she thanks me.
When we've driven past the window to pay and collect our order, I pull into a space in the lot that's out of sight of the restaurant.
Celine spoons out a huge chunk of brownie that's heaped with soft-whip ice cream and chocolate sauce and puts it all into her mouth. The way she moans is so sexy, I almost drop my caramel sundae into my lap. That would be one way to chill out my semi-hard cock.
"Good?"
She nods, still chewing. There's a smudge of chocolate sauce on her cheek, which I rub away with my thumb. Her eyes widen in surprise, and she licks her lips.
Celine really is beautiful, like a medieval fairy transported into the twenty-first century, and given a sprinkle of sass in the process. It's a stupid description, but it fits.
"See, ice cream is better at fixing feelings than sex."
"Gabriella recommended cocktails and chocolate."
"Also great end of relationship fixers."
"Ellie suggested rebound sex."
"Did she?" That surprises me. Ellie always seemed quite conservative when it came to relationships. Before her stepbrother harem, she barely dated. Gabriella thought we might have been a good pair, but I told my sister that her friend was too young for me. It's funny that I'm now fake dating her other bestie, who's the same age.
"I know what you're going through," I tell her. It's time to come clean so she understands better where I'm coming from. "My ex cheated on me. It's why I left Germany."
"Oh." She tucks her spoon into the sundae and lowers it into her lap.
"It was a shock, and after, I felt like an idiot for not seeing the signs. The truth is, people who cheat are deceptive, and it's a good thing when you find out before things get serious and the stakes are higher."
"I was never going to go that far with Eddie."
"Thank the Lord. That guy is a douche of epic proportions."
She laughs and retrieves her spoon, reaching out to dig it in my sundae. I move it closer to her so it's easier to take a big enough sample. Her eyes roll, and she moans again at the caramel flavor, and I internally kick myself for turning down the sex. I'd like to make her moan just by pressing the flat of my tongue to her clit, but that's off the table for tonight. Plus, I don't get the feeling she'd be into my brand of fucking. Too bossy and confident to want what I like.
We spend another twenty minutes sharing our desserts and finding more music in common. Celine's cool. Definitely, a woman I'd like to date if things were different. I've had more fun tonight than I ever had with Lina.
We make our way back to Celine's dorms, and Celine sings all the way. She has shrugged off her sadness, and I'm relieved. It doesn't stop me thinking about what we could be doing if I'd agreed to what she wanted. We could have been at Molly's by now, sweat-slicked, and frantic.
I could have taken her mind off her stresses or, at the very least, relieved some tension.
Outside her dorm, Celine reaches for the handle immediately. I touch her other arm, holding her in place as gently as I can.
"I want you to know I'm here if you need me, okay?"
She turns then, and behind the bright smile, her sadness is just visible. I touch her face and kiss her sweet, pouty lips. Our mouths move like we’ve been doing this forever, like our lips were meant to touch and touch and touch until every nerve ending in my body is awake and ready. Being with Celine is like reaching out to catch a falling star.
If we were both less fucked up by the past, maybe we could enjoy the present together, but it's just not meant to be. Playing games doesn’t feel right.
"Bye, Travis. And thanks."
She leaves me feeling more conflicted than I ever have.