Chapter 30
Chapter Thirty
The week goes by normally—or as normally as it can go after Travis told me about his empty bedroom, said I was his weakness, and almost kissed me.
It’s during times like this that I wish I had a group of tight-knit friends I could vent to. Charlie is as close as it gets, but it would be weird to tell him I have a thing for our boss. Lola is a good friend, too, but I don’t think we’re there yet. And I don’t talk about relationships with Jada, if only because my life has never been easy enough to allow those conversations, so I wouldn’t even know where to start.
So, I do the next reasonable thing—check online forums.
Several entries under Is it okay to have a crush on my boss? suggest that yes, it’s perfectly fine as long as I don’t act on it because it could ruin everything. I also find not-that-encouraging explanations on the Is it okay to be attracted to an older man? forum, which leave me more confused than before.
Eventually, I reach the conclusion that maybe I’m just infatuated with Travis. That it’s not a crush but a strong attraction explained by the fact that he’s the first man who’s shown mild interest in me. He’s the first man I’ve felt safe with, which is making me confuse feelings of gratitude with love. Possibly.
Only that my feelings for him don’t correlate with infatuation. They’re too strong, too real, too rooted in my heart. But what if I’m just seeing what I want to see?
Several articles and forums suggest going on dates to test this theory. Maybe Charlie or Lola could introduce me to one of their friends that isn’t a total creep. I haven’t been on a date since…well, ever. I think it’s time.
I’m twenty-five, for crying out loud. I’ve been kissed before, once, and it’s not that I feel particularly self-conscious about not having had sex, but I can’t exactly start a relationship with some unsuspecting man while I lie to him every day. But a date won’t hurt, and it could be a good distraction from Travis.
If everything else fails, at least I will have pushed past my fear of socializing. Who knows? Maybe I’ll make a friend or two in the process.
“Char?” I call out, knowing he can hear me from wherever he’s crouching behind the bar.
“What’s up, Alliegator?”
I set the broom aside and rest my elbows on the bar, getting on my tiptoes so I can look at him. He’s putting away some napkins and straws. “Do you have any cute, single friends?”
“If this isn’t an interesting request,” he teases. “Why? Too chicken to admit you like the boss?”
My cheeks flush before I can help it. “I just… You know.”
He stands and runs a hand through his blond curls. “Very eloquent, sweet cheeks. I do have a few cute, single friends who are into women. Want their number?”
“I was thinking maybe I could tag along whenever you guys hang out again? If you’re okay with that.”
“I’m sure we’ll do something fun this weekend. Lola will be there, and I’ll make sure to invite my cutest and most available friends.”
He throws me a wink before grabbing a dirty cloth from the bar and leaving in the direction of the changing room.
As I finish sweeping the floors, I try to convince myself that I’m doing the right thing by asking Charlie to set me up with one of his friends. There’s no real pressure to meet anyone anyway. I’ll just hang out with them this weekend and see how I feel about it.
“Allie?” Travis’s unmistakable deep rumble asks right before I spot his massive figure coming toward me, a scowl on his hard face that looks meaner than usual. And that’s saying something.
“What do you need, boss man?”
“Help me in the back. Bring the broom.”
I do as he says, trailing behind him until he stops by the pool table.
“What are you doing?” I frown when he gently takes the broom from my grip.
“Sweeping the floors,” he says, as if I weren’t looking right at him.
I rest my lower back against the pool table. “I can see that. Why did you want me to come with you if you’re only gonna make me watch?”
“Bye, boss!” Charlie hollers from the front, and I wave at him as he exits the bar. But before he’s gone, the little shit winks and adds, “I’ll get you a hot date this weekend, Allie Cat. Don’t sweat it.”
My cheeks redden, and my first instinct is to look at the man beside me. But Travis doesn’t even lift his head. And why would he? It’s not like my love life—or the lack thereof—interests him in any way.
I probably imagined our almost kiss too.
While he cleans up, I take a closer look at the pool table. I’ve never played before. My father had one in our basement, but I wasn’t allowed to go near it because he didn’t want me to break it. As if a child could do such a thing.
“See you tomorrow, you two,” says Sandra.
I turn back around just in time to say goodbye to her and Jude.
It’s not the first time Travis and I have been left alone at The Lair, so I don’t think much of it until I hear the sound of the broomstick being placed against the wall. And then I feel his presence at my back, getting closer, warmer.
“Wanna play?”
I meet his gaze over my shoulder before turning around to face him. “I’ve never done it before.”
His nostrils flare at the same time as my pulse accelerates.
“I can teach you.”
Those words shouldn’t sound so dirty.
“Okay.”
Neither of us move. Eyes locked, I wonder if we’re still talking about pool. But Travis doesn’t flirt, and he most certainly doesn’t flirt with me . He doesn’t do innuendos or cheesy lines.
“Let’s get you a cue,” that raspy voice says before he walks to the opposite side of the table. “Come here.”
His soft command shouldn’t send a thrill down my spine, either, but here we are. My mind is lost, and for the first time, I don’t care to find it.
Travis grabs one of the smallest cues and passes it to me. “You have no idea how pool works, then?”
My fingers brush his when I grab the cue. “I didn’t even know this was called a cue until two minutes ago. I’ve been calling it a stick this whole time.”
He shakes his head as he passes me by, not hiding his amusement. “Let me get this ready, and I’ll teach you how to play.”
I’m not ashamed to admit that, in the next few minutes, I only understand 20 percent of the words that leave Travis’s mouth. Maybe less.
“What do you mean I lost?” I frown after I make the first shot.
Well, technically, the second—the cue slipped from my grip on the first one, and I swear I heard a laugh behind me. I can’t even be mad about it because I like the sound way too much.
The massive bear-man next to me has his body propped against the table, a smug look on his face I also can’t be mad about.
“You sank the black ball,” he explains.
“So what?” I scoff. “Doesn’t that give me a point? I’ll take a pity one if necessary. I mean, the aim of this game is to sink the balls into the holes.” I pause. “Like, the pool balls into the pool holes. That’s what I meant.”
Kill me now.
Travis shakes his head in amusement. “The eight ball has to be the last one you sink. Otherwise, you lose.”
“That doesn’t feel right. Does that mean we have to start again?”
He places a hand on my shoulder and gives it a squeeze, the heat of his skin kissing mine through the thin material of my work shirt. “I’ll bend the rules for you.”
Okay. No big deal. We’re talking about pool here. There are no other rules to bend.
“Solids are yours,” he says as he leans over to keep playing.
In one swift movement, Travis hits the white ball, which then sinks two striped ones into different holes.
“It’s still your turn now, right? Because you scored,” I ask.
He sends me a smirk over his bulky shoulder. “You’re a fast learner.”
Travis sinks another ball before it’s my turn. Even though my cue is shorter than his, I still have trouble positioning it between my fingers. I guess it’s good that I’ve already embarrassed myself in front of him enough times to last me at least twenty years because I’m pretty sure I’m making a complete fool of myself right now.
“Okay. All right.” I straighten my back and blow a strand of hair away from my face. “I got this.”
I can’t see his face, but I sure hear the smirk in his voice. “I know you do.”
“Don’t make fun of me, big guy.”
“Would never dream of it.”
I send him a dirty look that does nothing but make that smirk a little wider.
I lean over the wooden frame, but just when I’m about to go, my hand slips and the stupid cue ends up hitting the table with more force than necessary. “Damn it.”
“Easy,” Travis says. “Let me show you.”
He sets his cue on a nearby table. I hear the sound of his military boots getting closer, one beckoning step at a time. And I don’t hear it, but I feel his warmth as he positions that massive body I’ve ogled more times than I will ever admit behind mine.
He pushes my lower body forward with a gentle hand as I hold on to the cue. His body moves with mine, his left arm resting on top of mine as his fingers wrap around my own, holding the cue with me.
Then he whispers, “Follow my lead.”
I can barely breathe as his other hand grabs the end of the cue, grazing my waist. And then he thrusts us forward, just barely, but enough to press our bodies together.
We hit the white ball, which then sinks a yellow one.
Neither of us seem to care.
“You got it now?” he asks in my ear, his voice low.
I can’t form a single coherent thought right now, let alone recall what he’s just taught me. Pool is at the very back of my mind.
Slowly, our bodies come back up. He takes one step back, making me instantly miss his close proximity.
“You sank one, so you go again,” he instructs, his voice rough.
A shaky breath falls from my parted lips as I lean forward, targeting an orange ball this time. Somehow, I manage to hit the white ball, but it lands nowhere.
“You’re getting there,” he encourages me, his eyes on the table as he positions himself in front of the white ball. Easily, he sinks two striped ones. He goes again and again, as if he hadn’t just stolen away my breath and my reason.
At some point, he must notice I’m not paying attention anymore because he asks, “You okay?”
No, Travis, I’m not.
I’m not sure about anything right now.
There are many things I dislike about myself—how effortlessly lies roll off my tongue, how much of a coward I am when instead I should show the world that it won’t crush me, how my brain shuts down when my body is shackled with anxiety, and I lose all control over my mouth. And that’s exactly what happens next.
“Why are you still wearing the bracelet?”
His eyes don’t leave me, watching my every blink and breath intake. I don’t lower my gaze either.
“You don’t have to wear it anymore,” I feel compelled to remind him when he says nothing. “The bet was one month. You can take it off.”
His eyes shift to the white ball. He only has two striped balls left to sink.
“I don’t want to take it off,” he says, simple as that, as he sinks both balls and wins the game.
“Why not?”
He doesn’t answer right away. He doesn’t say anything at all as he sets his cue on the pool table.
I don’t move as I watch my boss, the same man who told me I was his weakness, start toward me. He doesn’t stop until the tips of his boots graze my white sneakers.
He’s close. So close, I can feel every inch of his warmth. So close, he may be able to hear the frantic beating of my heart.
His voice is low, hoarse. His eyes don’t leave mine as he asks a question that I’m not sure I understand.
“You have no idea, do you?”
One of his hands hikes its way up, up, up, until the weight of his fingers settles on the nape of my neck. Fingers that start kneading my skin softly, as if he’s scared to break me. My lips part at the possessive gesture.
“You have no idea what you do to me. Do you, sweetheart?”
His voice is charged with a kind of roughness I’ve never heard before. Not from him, and not from anyone else. Ever. It’s a roughness that makes my heartbeat quicken, my stomach flutter, and the pressure between my legs grow heavier.
Travis is a whole foot taller than me, but suddenly his forehead is pressed against mine. Our proximity traps the air in my lungs, the words in my throat, and it kills every thought in my brain telling me to stop this before it’s too late.
I should tell him that whatever this is, it’s a mistake. Not because we work and live together and not because he’s twelve years older than me, but because I’m too broken, and I don’t know how to fix myself. If I even can.
“You really want to go on a date with some guy?” he asks roughly as his hand cradles my cheek, holding me with gentle firmness.
“No,” I tell him with every inch of honesty I have. “I don’t.”
I’m done lying to myself.
I’m done pretending that what I feel for him is infatuation or a mere crush.
Because the truth is, I’ve fallen in love with Travis. All in.
And I can only hope it doesn’t end in heartbreak as I unapologetically grab the metaphorical reins of my life and take a step further.
My nose nuzzles his. My voice is barely above a whisper when I ask him, “You don’t want me to go on a date?”
“Only if it’s with me.”
My heartbeat picks up when he uses those strong hands to hoist me up by the waist and set me on the pool table. He positions his body between my legs, his arms caging me until we’re mere inches apart.
“Fucking hell, Allie,” he rasps, forehead against mine, hands on my waist.
“What?” I breathe out, my eyes settling on his plump lips.
He shuts his eyes. “Tell me this isn’t right.”
I swallow. “I won’t lie.”
He opens his eyes to search mine, his gaze intense and scorching.
“Tell me this is a mistake,” he says.
“This isn’t a mistake.”
He inches closer.
“Tell me to stop.”
I can’t.
I won’t.
“Allie,” he growls, bringing me impossibly closer.
And closer.
Every fear and doubt in my head dissipate. Maybe I’m being greedy, taking what has never been mine. And maybe I should feel bad for leading Travis on when he deserves better than this, than me. But it’s been way too long since I allowed my heart to beat for something. For someone.
And I need him to be mine in the same way I’m longing to be his.
“I don’t want you to stop,” I whisper against his lips.
My boss, the man who has taken better care of me than anyone else ever has, who shows me through his actions that I mean something to him, doesn’t move an inch. He doesn’t pull away, doesn’t lean in either, and it sends my heartbeat into overdrive.
His heavy breathing mixes with mine, but it’s not enough.
I need him closer.
I need him .
“Allie,” he grunts.
His last warning.
My last chance.
The moment my lips touch Travis’s, something in me shifts. It tears the beating organ in my chest apart, giving way to a new emotion I don’t recognize.
I might have closed the space between our mouths, but the illusion of being in charge disappears quickly. Because Travis pecks my lips once, twice, before the beast in him lets loose.
The warmth of his hands seeps into my skin as his tongue explores mine. Our kiss starts slow, then changes to something less gentle. But his roughness is never cruel, never unwelcome.
A groan escapes the back of his throat as I wrap my arms around his neck, needing his body against mine more than I need my next breath. My legs curl around his waist, and suddenly I’m not on the pool table anymore.
The fact that Travis is a strong man has never escaped me. I just didn’t know he could support all my weight with such ease, and now my mind is going places it should stay away from. My center being pressed against his hardness isn’t helping either.
“Goddammit, Allie,” he grunts when he breaks our kiss.
I don’t think I’ve ever heard his voice sound huskier than right now, and it’s not doing my aroused body any favors.
His hands move lower and lower and lower as his mouth descends on the sensitive skin of my neck and he cups my backside.
“You have no fucking idea,” he whispers between kisses, his voice as hungry as his touch. “How badly I need you. Like the fucking sun.”
“Travis…” I beg as he pecks my lips. What I’m begging for, I’m not sure—for him to keep kissing me, to hold me tighter, to never stop.
“Tell me what you need,” he growls against the curve of my neck as I throw my head back to grant him better access. “Whatever you need, sweetheart, it’s yours. I’ve waited long enough to kiss you.”
It’s at this moment that I realize I’ve missed all the signs. His heightened protectiveness, the unexpected way he opened up about his past and his fears. How have I not seen it before?
Travis cares about me. Just as deeply as I care about him. In his own quiet way, but he does.
He doesn’t give me a chance to keep overthinking as he closes the space between our lips again, his tongue meeting mine. His movements aren’t slow, and it shocks me that despite my inexperience, I can follow his pace with ease.
When he squeezes my ass, a whimper escapes the back of my throat. He meets it with a grunt of his own, sending the most delicious thrill down my spine.
“Travis…” My voice slips in between kisses. “I need?—”
“Sorry, boss, I left something in?—”
We pull away seconds before I meet Charlie’s wide-open eyes over Travis’s shoulder. Whatever he was going to say next dies in his throat as he comes to the obvious—and correct—conclusion.
Travis’s hands are still on my ass as he turns his head to look at Charlie, but he says nothing. Neither of us do.
Because Charlie has just caught me making out with our boss in the middle of the bar.
Did I mention my legs are wrapped around his waist and his hands are in a very inappropriate place?
I don’t know what I expected Charlie to do, but it wasn’t to point a finger at us with a huge grin on his face and say, “I fucking knew it.”
Travis and I watch his smirk grow wider, clearly unfazed by having walked in on us.
“You know what? Good for you,” Charlie says with a shrug. “It was about damn time anyway. Just tell me I can wear sneakers to the wedding because dress shoes make my feet hurt, and I plan to dance until you kick me out.”
I’m about to pass out—or away. Likely one after the other.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” Travis demands.
My heart flutters as he presses me closer to his body, with no intentions of letting me go despite our current ordeal.
Charlie holds his hands up. “I forgot my keys in the dressing room. I’ll be out of your hair real quick so you can… keep going.”
With a smirk, he darts off toward the back.
Travis sighs, his chest expanding against mine. He’s careful as he helps me down, and once he makes sure I’m okay, he presses a lingering kiss on my forehead.
But he says nothing after that and steps away. Not a “This shouldn’t have happened” or a “We’ll continue this at home.” Yet I still muster a smile because I like Travis a lot, not only as a boss but as a person, too, and I don’t want this… whatever that was to taint our relationship.
“I’m going to head out. I’ll see you at home,” I tell him, my head down as my cheeks grow warm.
I would be lying if I said I didn’t want him to stop me before I left. To suggest we wait until Charlie leaves again so we can continue. But Travis only gives me a stiff nod and says nothing.
I’m fine. This is fine. He’ll be awkward for a bit, and then we’ll be fine.
Another lie.