Chapter 18
BONNIE
After Reese left, Travis came back to my room.
I instantly felt the air fill with tension.
He leaned against the doorway, crossing his arms over his chest. Somehow, he seemed even sexier here inside his penthouse, or maybe I was more susceptible because he'd carried me inside and I'd felt all those muscles up close and personal once again.
I glanced at his arms. I was sure they looked a little bit more bulged than usual from the effort.
I smiled. "I like Reese."
"She's great," Travis agreed.
"She's so fun and caring. It's not something I'm used to." I pressed my lips together. Why had I told him that? I didn’t want to burden him with my past.
"You aren’t?" he asked. “Why?”
I sighed. Was there a need to tell him? At some point, yes. He should know the mother of his child was from a dysfunctional family, something that was obviously very foreign to him.
"You don't have to tell me why if you don't want to."
He unhitched himself from the door. Coming inside, he sat down at the foot of the bed.
"I can tell you things. I feel like you should know me better.”
He wiggled his eyebrows. “I agree.”
I mustered up the courage and began my life story.
“I grew up near Chicago until I was eight years old. We lived near a farm. I discovered I loved animals at a very early age. Whenever my parents were arguing and I needed to escape, I would just go to the neighboring ranch. Mr. and Mrs. Johnson loved that I’d stop by, and they’d let me feed the chickens or pet the sheep.
It was my happy place. I think I always knew I wanted to work with animals from that point on.
When my parents divorced, my mom and I moved near Portland.
I missed Dad a lot during that time. I was pretty lonely as a kid. ”
How much more do I tell him? Should I keep going?
I decided not to hold back. “Mom always had a gambling problem. She ended up losing our house. That’s what led to the divorce.
I’m not even sure how she ended up with custody of me.
Mom couldn't handle being a single parent, to be honest. I think she felt that she’d given up a lot and missed out on a lot of things in her life. Mostly because of having me.”
He looked half horrified, half confused, like he couldn’t possibly understand how any of this was real.
“Oh, when I mentioned my pregnancy, she flat-out told me she hopes I don't expect her to babysit, which I don't."
Travis’s eyes turned hard. "Don't worry. My parents are very eager to babysit. Mom loves kids and is kind of annoyed that none of us have delivered on that end except for Tate, so she won’t be able to get enough of our child. My grandmother too."
"Reese offered too," I said. "That was so sweet of her."
“Is your mom still gambling?”
This conversation was very difficult for me. I could barely bring myself to think about it, let alone talk about it. Saying each word out loud felt like pulling teeth.
“She says no, but her neighbor is keeping tabs on her, and I talk to her about my mother once in a while. She thinks Mom’s still doing it. It’s why I always refuse to give her money. Instead I try to buy the things she needs. She resents me for it. Umm… this conversation isn’t easy for me.”
“I understand. Thank you for opening up. Do you want us to talk about something else?”
“Yes, please.”
I expelled a long breath. It was out there now. He knew I was the proverbial “girl from the other side of the tracks.” Probably not who he'd have picked to be the mother of his child.
"What do you want to do now?" he asked me.
I pointed at the TV. "I couldn't help but see that you've got Netflix. I was thinking about binge-watching one of my favorite shows, Bridgerton."
"Never heard of it," he said.
I gasped. "What do you mean, you’ve never heard of it?" I turned on the TV, bringing up the show. I had checked out the options prior to Reese’s visit. "You've never seen this series?"
"I've seen the previews. Looks like a chick flick."
"It is," I admitted, "but it's fabulous. You're missing out by not watching it. It's got plenty of sexy stuff."
His eyes widened, and he sat up straighter. "Really? Now I'm intrigued."
I rolled my eyes. "Typical man. I bring up sexy stuff and you suddenly become interested."
He shrugged.
"Let's watch it," he said.
I narrowed my eyes. "You seriously want to see this?"
"Yeah. Why not? I've got no plans all weekend, and I want to learn about the things that interest you."
I loved that. Once again, Travis was making me swoon.
"Should we start right away?" I asked.
"Yeah, but first things first, let’s eat that curry I ordered.”
"That is music to my ears." Fortunately, my appetite was back.
Ten minutes later, he came in with curry and two cans of soda, sitting on the bed next to me. This felt intimate, like we were a couple just settling in on Friday night to watch Netflix. It was homey, and I liked it far too much.
Don't get used to this, Bonnie. Don't get used to it. It's just for this weekend, I kept telling myself.
We ate the curry without even talking.
Travis laughed as I took the last spoonful.
“You ate fast.” He pointed at my empty dish.
“So did you.” His bowl was also empty.
Standing up, he opened the window because the curry stank up the room. He took the bowls, and I had a brief reprieve from the constant sexual tension. My body was on alert whenever he was near.
He returned far too quickly, closing the window and sitting next to me once more. Damn, he was even closer than before.
I'd propped my pillow near the center too.
I held my breath when I realized he was only a few inches away from me.
I could feel the heat of his body rolling off him and slipping over to me.
He was close enough that I could smell a hint of mint.
Was it his shower gel? Or perhaps he'd brushed his teeth after eating? I should brush mine, too, but I’d start the show first.
"Should I press Play?" I asked. My voice didn't sound right.
"Yes." His answer was more of a groan, sounding gruff.
If I turned too fast, I risked bumping my head into his, yet I didn't want to move farther away. I turned on the show.
"I've seen it a couple times, and if it were just me, I probably wouldn't start at the beginning, but it wouldn't make sense for you otherwise. I'd have to explain too many things."
We started with season one, episode one. It felt like coming home and surrounding myself in a snuggly blanket. It was truly one of my comfort shows.
"Okay, so far, I’m not impressed," Travis explained when we were on episode three.
I sighed, exasperated, because we were in the middle of a terrific scene.
"It's romance, Travis. It's a slow burn."
"I don't see the burn," he said nonchalantly.
I narrowed my eyes, poking his arm. "Don't make fun of my show."
He cocked his head in my direction. The tips of our noses almost touched, and I felt his breath on my lips. My belly somersaulted.
"Or what?" he asked, a challenge in his tone.
"I don't know," I said, sounding far sassier and braver than I felt. Being so close to him was seriously messing with my defenses. "I'll think about a particularly nasty vengeance."
I elbowed him, and my entire body warmed at the contact.
"If you don't like it, I can watch it on my own."
"No, it's fine. I’m tormenting you."
My jaw dropped. "So you're doing it on purpose? Tell the truth. You actually like it."
"The jury is still out," he said, and then we both turned to the TV.
When the episode with the wedding night came on, I looked at Travis more than the TV. When the sexy scene began, I could instantly see the change in him. He straightened up, leaning slightly forward. His eyes bulged and were glued to the screen.
"Fucking hell," he exclaimed. "I have seriously underestimated chick flicks. This is very detailed," he spluttered.
"Yes, it is. Welcome to my world, Travis Maxwell. Welcome to my world."
After that, Travis was completely captivated. It was so hilarious that I barely kept myself from bursting out laughing.
We watched two more episodes, and then tiredness crept up on me. I yawned, and he cocked his head my direction.
"You should sleep."
I yawned again. "Yep, I should."
"Want to watch the rest tomorrow?"
"Sure, we can do that."
He leveled his gaze on me for several seconds without saying anything.
I had the strangest feeling that he was about to kiss me, but then, to my dismay, he pushed himself toward the edge of the bed.
He sat with his back to me, breathing in deeply.
My heart was about to beat out of my chest, and my pulse drummed in my ears.
Part of me was still hoping he'd turn around and kiss the living daylights out of me.
But then he rose to his feet, and I turned off the TV.
The room was completely dark as he walked past the bed. In the doorway, he stopped, looking back at me.
"Good night, Bonnie."
"Good night."
"See you tomorrow."
He closed the door, and I shifted lower on the bed, pulling the covers up to my chin. My pulse was still haywire, my mouth dry.
Damn! I went from wanting to keep our distance to wanting him to kiss me in a matter of hours. This was going to be a long weekend indeed.