Chapter 46
Anna
Irun up Travis’s porch steps and knock on the door.
I count the seconds before I hear footsteps coming from inside.
When he answers, my heart shatters in my chest.
I take in the pained look in his gunmetal blue eyes. His eyes are red, like he hasn’t been sleeping.
I bet he didn’t get a moment of sleep on his flight back to Denver this morning. I think he’s been crying too.
He looks so sad, so broken.
I step inside and wrap my arms around him.
“It’s okay. I’m here,” I whisper.
His massive arms wrap around me. He buries his face between my neck and my shoulder and breathes in. His whole body relaxes.
“I missed you,” he murmurs against my hair.
I hug him tighter. “I missed you too.”
When we break apart, the look in his eyes has softened. He still looks sad, but there’s a gleam of hope. A spark.
And it’s because of me.
Warmth glides through my chest. It lingers as I grab Travis’s hand and he leads me upstairs to his bedroom.
I glance around at the surroundings. There’s a queen-size bed with a blue comforter and a surprising number of pillows: five. The desk against the wall is tidy with a laptop, a small stack of textbooks, and a big white calendar hanging above it.
There’s a wooden nightstand next to his bed with a couple of framed photos: one of him and his mom, and one of him and his teammates dressed in their Hollis U jerseys.
On the wall above the bed is a poster of the Pixies and a poster of The Smiths.
This is the first time I’ve ever been in his bedroom. I never had a reason to see it before, since I didn’t like him and he didn’t like me.
But now, I like him so much that seeing him in pain makes my chest feel like it’s on the verge of caving in. I walk up to him and hold his face in my hands.
“I’m so sorry for what you’re going through,” I say before softly kissing his lips.
He slides his arms around my waist and pulls me against him. He buries his face in my hair and hums softly.
“Thank you for coming over,” he says softly.
Travis called me yesterday, distraught after his dad showed up out of the blue in San Francisco. When he told me how his dad tried pretending like everything was good between them and dismissed what he did to his mom, I wanted to rage. He was an even bigger asshole than I thought.
Travis told me everything—how they argued, how his dad tried to physically stop him when he walked off, so he shoved him.
How a small crowd outside of the San Francisco Seagulls practice facility saw everything…how a few people even recorded it.
And now that video is circulating online. And on social media.
My stomach sinks when I think about how bad it looks. The videos I’ve seen didn’t capture any sound from their conversation, just the two of them in a heated argument that ends with Travis shoving his dad. It makes Travis look like he was in the wrong.
I feel sick when I think about how many people have watched it. How many people are making snap judgments about Travis with zero context? How many people think he’s a monster for shoving his dad to the ground?
I refuse to read the comments. I know they’re cruel.
And if they knew the truth…if they knew what Travis’s dad said to him…if they knew the horrible things his dad did, they wouldn’t be saying those things. They would be behind Travis one hundred percent.
We both sit down on the edge of his bed. His shoulders slump, and he gazes down at the floor.
“I really fucked up,” he mutters.
I hug my arms around him. “Don’t say that.”
“I did though. I lost my cool.” He scrubs a hand over his face and huffs out a heavy breath. “I handled things in the worst way possible.”
I grab his hand in mine, then gently touch his face to make him look at me. “Travis. Please don’t beat yourself up about this. You were thrust into a stressful, emotionally draining situation, and reacted in the best way that you could.”
His gaze softens the tiniest bit as he looks at me.
“Your dad had no right to show up there. He had no right to put his hands on you. You had every right to push him away.”
He grabs my hand and kisses it. Then he kisses my forehead. I close my eyes and melt into him.
“My mom said the same thing when I told her what happened,” he says.
I think about how heartbroken Ivy must have been to find out what Travis is going through.
“How’s she doing with all this?” I ask.
“She’s pissed at my dad for showing up in San Francisco. She wanted to call him and chew him out, but I told her not to. I don’t want her to have to deal with him anymore.”
I hesitate for a second. “Has she seen the video of you and your dad?”
He shakes his head. I let out a breath, relieved.
“She’s staying off social media. She doesn’t want to see it,” he says.
I run my fingers through his hair. He closes his eyes and hums softly.
“I’d be happy to call your dad and chew him out. Just give me his number.”
Travis opens his eyes and kisses my cheek. “I don’t need you to do that, sweet thing. But thanks for the offer.”
“Have you heard from the Seagulls at all?” I ask.
“Not since I left this morning.”
He attended his team dinner the night before he left, and thankfully, no one there mentioned the video to him.
“I’m sure they’re getting tagged in that video by now,” he says. “I bet I’ll hear from them soon. And it won’t be good news.”
I shake my head. “They’ll understand when you explain what happened.”
“They might not. I’m their newest draft pick, and I’m causing bad publicity for the team before I’ve even started playing for them.” His jaw works as the look in his eyes turns pained. “I might get kicked off the team because of this.”
Frustration simmers inside of me. This is all so unfair. Travis is the victim in this situation with his dad. The thought of him losing his spot on the team because of him makes me want to rage.
A desperate feeling swoops through me.
“No way that’s happening. If they kick you off the team because of this, I’ll rage.”
The side of his mouth tips up the slightest bit. There’s a glint in his eyes. It verges on happy.
“I like it when you get all feral and protective over me,” he says.
“I’m serious, Travis. This is so fucked up. If they get rid of you for this—something that wasn’t even your fault, I’m going to flip out on them.”
He tucks my hair behind my ear, his expression softening. “What will you do?”
“Leave a bag of flaming dog crap on the porch of the coach’s house. And graffiti a giant dick on the owner’s private plane.”
Travis’ mouth stretches into a small smile. “You’re hardcore.” He kisses me softly. “Remind me never to mess with you.”
I lean up and look at him. “I’m serious, Travis. No matter what happens, I’ll fight for you. I’ll always be in your corner.”
Something flickers in his gaze. He’s quiet for a long moment.
His lips part open slightly, like he’s about to say something.
“Anna, I…”
I wait for him to say more, but he’s quiet for a long moment. Then he kisses me, soft and teasing.
“I’m so lucky you’re mine,” he says against my mouth.
He wraps his arms around me, holding me tight against him.
We stay like that for a few minutes. Then he checks the time on his phone.
“You’re gonna be late for your meeting with your professor. You’d better go,” he says.
“I don’t have to go,” I say. “I can message Professor Sullivan and tell him that I had a personal emergency. I’m sure he’ll understand.”
He shakes his head, his eyes brighter now as he looks at me.
“You’re not going to cancel because of me. I know how important this research project is. I know how much you want to be part of it. I want you to go.”
“Are you sure you’re okay being alone right now?”
He nods.
“Does my brother know about what happened with your dad?”
“Yeah. He and the guys from the team have been texting me to check up on me. They won’t be back for a couple more days.”
I kiss him. “I’ll come back here as soon as I’m done.”
“Don’t rush. I’ll be fine.”
I grab my bag and head out.