Chapter 58
TRAVIS
Ellie was up bright-eyed and hot as fuck at eight this morning for my hearing. She was surprised as shit to find me already awake and ready.
She sat in the back in her pin-striped skirt and matching jacket, looking like a hot-as-sin librarian. Her hair was slicked back into one of those tight buns, and bright red lipstick colored her plump lips.
And like she said, everything was over quickly. The only thing I said was “sorry” to Mr. Pissy Leg. Damn right he was there. He looked pissed that I wasn’t cuffed and thrown behind bars. He acts like I fucked his daughter or something. So what, you got some pee on you? I don’t have a disease.
All in all, I got off easy, thanks to Ellie’s dad’s lawyer friend.
Just a small fine and fifty hours of community service, which I’m allowed to do in my own community.
I’ve already set it up to start when I get back—at the animal shelter.
That won’t feel like work. Might see if they’ll let me volunteer at the zoo, too.
Feed the big cats or play with the sloths.
“Oh my,” Ellie says as we step into the hotel lobby. It’s decorated top to bottom with flowers and balloons. Soft music plays from somewhere, and the place is packed with women wearing white, hustling around with brochures and champagne. One nearly dumps her whole glass on me as she walks backward.
“Oopsie!” She giggles, but then she gasps, her eyes going wide as they rake over me.
Fuck yeah, I look good. I always do, but me in a suit? Pft, ravishing. I know because Ellie hasn’t stopped staring at me. Her pupils dilated at the sight of me this morning when I stepped out of the bathroom.
“I-I’m so sorry,” she stutters. She’s probably my age or slightly older, average looking with mousy brown hair and a fake tan.
“No problem.” I smile, and her cheeks brighten. I wonder what I can do to make Ellie’s do that—besides making her come.
My eyes roam over my shoulder, expecting her to be beside me, but she’s not. She’s standing by the elevator, arms crossed and watching me, an impatient expression on her face. She’s starving. I promised that if she let me change out of these clothes, I’d feed her.
“I’m Tara.”
I turn back to the woman in front of me. “Nice to meet you,” I lie, then take a step away.
She grabs my bicep. My eyes fall to her hand, then to her face, and I arch my brow.
Taking the hint, she drops it, giggling awkwardly. “Are you here for the expo?”
“The what?”
“The bridal expo, silly.” She gestures around the room at the tables spilling from the lobby, down the hall.
I shake my head. I’d forgotten all about the reason Ellie and I were forced into one bed last night.
“Business then?”
What the hell is she saying? I’m trying not to be rude. I’m turning over a new leaf, dammit, but everyone is making it hard for me. I hate small talk.
“Sure,” I say, glancing at Ellie. She’s tapping her heel against the marble floor. Someone jealous again?
“What do you do?”
“Consulting.” My outfit must sell my lie because she smiles.
Ellie’s shoe tapping gets louder behind me, but I don’t look back. I pretend to be invested in what this lady is saying. She’s babbling on and on. I tune her out, wondering exactly how many hours are left on this tour before my cock gets to slide home into Ellie’s pussy.
“So, are you?”
I blink, focusing again. “I’m sorry, what?”
“Are you here with someone? Because I’m staying in room 23—”
“Babe, can we go? You promised to feed me, then do that thing with your tongue that I like so much.”
The woman’s eyes grow wide before they narrow on Ellie, who hangs off my arm, tracing my jaw with her fingers. My eyes slowly pan to her. She’s batting her lashes and smiling innocently at me.
Well fucking played, May.
Here I thought I was in control, making her wait, making her jealous. Should’ve known she’s a fucking queen that waits for no one.
The woman clears her throat, and I reluctantly take my eyes off Ellie. “Sorry, I have plans.” I flick my tongue out, wiggling it so she gets a good view of the piercing there, giving her something to picture when she’s wondering what ‘thing’ Ellie was referring to.
Her face turns purple, and she scurries off, bumping into several people as she goes.
Ellie laughs bitterly. “What a sham.”
“What do you mean?” I take her hand and lead her to the elevator.
“She’s here for a wedding expo.”
“Ok,” I say slowly.
“She’s engaged!” she shrieks. “She had a ring!”
Ohhh.
What a piece of garbage. It did seem strange, especially with the way she was dressed. I shake my head in disgust as we hop on the elevator.
“I’m never getting married, and it’s because of bitches like her.
” I straighten, lungs tightening at the mention of the ‘m’ word.
“She’s here to plan her damn wedding, not hook up with a stranger.
Pouncing on you the moment she saw you, ugh.
” She scoffs, clearly frustrated. I like that she’s torn up about it.
Means shit like that bothers her as much as it does me.
I loathe cheaters. Just stay single, you shitbags.
But wait…
“You never want to get married?” I ask as we step onto our floor and make our way to the room.
“Never really interested me, ya know?”
Panic continues to rise. I thought it was because she was going to start talking about weddings and how she can’t wait to walk down the aisle.
Sweat prickles the back of my neck.
Don’t freak out. She doesn’t want to marry you right now. She doesn’t want to marry you ever, apparently.
She unlocks the door, goes inside, kicks off her heels, and unzips her skirt.
Undressing in front of my very eyes. I want to take in her body, but I’m struggling to breathe.
Where is this anxiety coming from? Is it because she mentioned marriage, and I was immediately thrust back in time when I was sickly in love and ring shopping on my phone?
Or because she doesn’t want any of that shit?
I should be stoked. She’s just like me. We’re two of a goddamn kind.
Puzzle pieces that align in every universe.
This is good news!
Relax. Be cool. She’s not asking for more. No pressure.
So why am I picturing her in a perfectly fitted white dress? Strolling down the aisle to her forever lover. Is that me at the end?
Damn, Penn. He got in my head with that proposal talk.
Then made me sit down with him for hours and work on that song.
I’d only had a few verses down and a vague idea, but he forced me to work through it until I got it out.
He helped, suggesting lyrics and notes as I went.
He wanted me to see the picture, and I did.
And I’m looking at it right now. She was the picture.
That’s why it felt natural to sing to her the other night.
I tried not to be too obvious to my bandmates, but they’re not idiots.
I suspect Penn knew exactly who I had in mind when we were creating that song.
“Are you alright? You’re pale. Oh, shit, are you having a craving?” Ellie’s voice is soft, concerned.
I suck in a breath, shaking my head. Craving you, yes. “I just don’t think you should rule it out.”
She pulls a T-shirt over her head. Mother of Christ, it’s a Loose Threads shirt, one of our old ones, too. She got that way before we ever met.
“Rule what out? Marriage?” She tugs some jean shorts up her tanned legs, then grabs the leather boots by the bed and slides her feet into them.
“Yes, marriage. Don’t let one shrimp-dick pervert ruin your happiness, Ellie. Not everyone sucks.”
She throws her head back, laughing. “He totally had a shrimp dick.”
Tension eases its way out of my body.
A rumbling sound shakes the room, and her hands fly to her stomach. “Oh wow, that’s aggressive.”
My eyes bulge. “Jesus Christ, that was your stomach? I thought it was an earthquake.” She gives me a crooked smile, not embarrassed at all. “Shit, I’m sorry. Let’s go feed that monster.” I grab her and yank her out the door.
“Wait! You didn’t change.”
I drag her with me, lacing my fingers through hers. “No time. The monster in your stomach is pissed.” Seriously, that sounded like TripleKill’s death growl. This girl needs food.
“I can wait five seconds for you to change,” she huffs as I lead her down the stairs, not waiting for the elevator.
“No need.”
Once we make it out on the street, I glance both ways, searching for the closest restaurant.
“There!” I point a few doors down to a pizza shop.
The thing about feeding Ellie is, it’s easy.
She’s not one of those girls who doesn’t like to eat in front of you.
She will steal the shit right off your plate and look sexy while she does it.
“We can’t go in there,” she says, dropping my hand as we approach the door.
“Why not?”
Her lips thin into a flat line. “Look how you’re dressed!”
I inspect myself. Yeah, I’m a little overdressed for a pizza pub, but so what? “You said I looked nice this morning.” Actually, she said I was hot as fuck, then mumbled something about a cat, and I don’t think it was Cinnamon she was referring to.
She growls, making my brows shoot to my hairline. Waving a frustrated hand over me, she says, “Yeah! You’re too hot to go in there—anywhere, really. Let’s just go back to the room and order food.” She turns to leave, but I curl my arm around her waist, drawing her into my body.
“Afraid you’re gonna have to fight for me?” I tease. She’s fucking got me, she knows that, right? Playing this game with her is fun. I don’t care if I lose.
“Yes,” she admits, taking me off guard. “I already had to run one off. This is a pub. There’s going to be tipsy females just dying to be railed by the hot rock star in a tailored suit.”
I chuckle, but her face is dead serious. There’s no way she believes she has competition. Ellie is a lot of things, and insecure isn’t one of them.
My brows pinch together as I consider other possibilities for her not wanting to go inside, then it hits me. The worry in her eyes isn’t for girls. It’s for me.
For my sobriety.
It’s not like it’s a bar or club. It’s a pizza place, but the music is loud; we can hear it from the street, so it’s more lively than an Applebee’s or some other restaurant.
I never said I was giving up drinking for good.
Beer helps me relax, as does weed, and I’m not giving up my Mary Jane.
I really would snap. But I need boundaries.
There’s a time and a place, and I have to remember that before my vices become crutches.
It’s best if I steer clear of everything right now, until my head is straight again.
“It’s ok, Ellie,” I assure her.
Her eyes scan my face, full of concern. I want to kiss her, show her how much it means to me that she cares like this, but if I do that, I won’t want to stop. And regardless of my teasing her, I’m trying to hold back for her sake. So she knows she’s worth the wait.
“Ok, but fair warning, I don’t have my knife on me.” She holds up two small fists. “I do have these, and I will use them if I have to.”
The thought of her getting violently territorial over me has blood rushing to my dick.