Chapter 16
I PAD LIGHTLY UP THE narrow staircase, my heart doing somersaults in my chest, each wooden step squeaking.
Travis stayed the night, after all the beer he drank, and since then I have been planning to sneak into his room and surprise him, pressing my cheek into the small hollow of his shoulder blade, wrapping my arms around him, and drifting off in each other’s arms. It feels like the perfect little adventure, a spark of childhood mischief crossed with grown-up romance.
Lame? Sure.
But I’m here for it.
I pause at his door and press my ear to the crack, listening for any noise to indicate if he is awake.
I hear nothing. The hallway is so dark I can barely make out the outline of his doorframe, just the faint glow of a light down the hall that has been left on.
I twist the handle, expecting it to turn with a whisper, but it lets go with a quiet click that sounds alarmingly loud in the stillness.
The room is pitch black. I take a breath, step inside, my bare feet sinking into the threadbare carpet.
I tiptoe to the foot of the bed, and with the practiced stealth of a kid who used to sneak through these halls way too effortlessly, I hop onto the mattress.
The springs give a polite creak, but I’m too excited to care.
I feel the comforting dip in the middle of the bed and slide beneath the covers.
The mattress is soft beneath my knees, the heat of his body familiar and comforting.
I shuffle closer, shift the covers, and nuzzle in—only the back I’m snuggling is ridiculously hairy and alarmingly round.
My hand brushes against something warm and coarse, and my body flattens against what feels like the world’s largest, most muscular butt.
My brain sends a frantic memo: This is wrong.
But then I hear it, a soft rumble of breath that doesn’t sound like Travis at all.
I freeze.
The back beneath me jiggles. Cold fear snakes down my spine.
I whisper, “Travis?” and my voice cracks.
There’s a rustle, a desperate grunt, and then my shriek.
The figure in the bed bellows back. In an instant, the darkness is shattered by harsh overhead lights.
I stumble backward, accidentally pulling the covers with me, and crash to a sitting position.
On the bed, clutching his sides and doubled over, is Bill—completely nude, his legs splayed out without a care in the world, tears of laughter trailing down his cheeks.
He howls again, body shaking.
At the same moment, Chief bursts through the door, shotgun raised, eyes immediately scanning for danger. Behind him is Travis, blinking and trying to focus, boxers hanging low on his hips. I scramble to my feet, hair a tangled mess, pyjamas riding up my hips, and stare at Bill’s devilish grin.
“One second I’m dreaming I’m in bed with the love of my life, and the next I feel... well, I feel a pair of tits squished right against my—” He convulses with another wave of laughter.
Chief’s stern scowl collapses and then he’s roaring with laughter, the kind of laughter I haven’t seen from him in years.
He lowers the shotgun, clutching it like a trophy, and leans against the doorframe, shaking his head.
Even Travis can’t help himself—his shoulders are heaving so hard he’s nearly bent double.
My cheeks flame. I bury my face in my hands, mortified, but then Bill’s laughter is so contagious it tickles my insides.
My shoulders tremble. I peek through my fingers, and as Bill howls yet again, I can’t stop myself, I burst out laughing too, tears pooling in the corners of my eyes, the absurdity of everything washing over me.
Bill finally composes himself, giving me a wink. I glare at him, half angry, half amused.
“Travis?” he gasps, cheeks red, mocking me.
“Yes, well, thank you,” I laugh. “But I actually did think you were Trav.”
Travis steps in, looping his arms around my waist and squeezing me close. He’s still chuckling. “Come on, Mischief,” he says, ruffling my hair. “Before you give another poor fellow a heart attack.”
I huff, unable to wipe the smile from my face. “I thought he was you!”
Still grinning, he murmurs, “If you’d actually taken your clothes off like I’m quite certain you planned, Bill might have needed a defibrillator.”
Bill howls again, clutching his ribs, and Chief ushers us out, shaking his head in mock disappointment. Everyone goes off into their own room, and Travis takes me to the correct room he chose for the night. Next time, I guess I will have to actually check which room he’s in.
Travis is still chuckling when he closes the door behind us.
The mattress dips as he gathers me in his arms and we sink into the rumpled sheets.
The moonlight falls in lazy silver patterns on the comforter, and somewhere in the back of my mind I can almost believe this night couldn’t get any stranger, or any more perfect.
Travis rolls toward me, kissing my eyelids, then my nose, then my lips. “Everyone survived,” he murmurs. “Better luck next time with the surprise. At least you know Bill will go to bed happy tonight.”
I snort, and then nestle against his chest, tracing the lines of his collarbone with a fingertip. The rapid thump of my heart is finally slowing, syncing with the steady rise and fall of his breathing.
“Hey,” I say softly, breathing him in. “There’s something I wanted to talk to you about.”
He pulls me closer, if that’s even possible. “Anything, Mischief.”
“I had a chat with Chief tonight; it was really good. It is the first time I feel like we have connected in a while. I think he is going to step back and let us make our choices, but...”
“But what, baby?”
I take a steadying breath, my pulse fluttering again.
I slide my hand into his and hold it tight.
“He does express concern, and I know that things have changed now, but he is right. So, I need to know, if you were ever in trouble again... if there’s anything at all going on that I should know about, would you tell me?
Promise me you won’t hide anything from me moving forward.
I don’t think I can hurt like that again. ..”
He stills for a heartbeat, then tilts his face toward mine. He cups my cheek with his free hand, thumb brushing my jaw. “I promise,” he says, voice low and certain. “Always.”
Relief floods me. I let him guide me to lie on my side, my back pressed against his chest, his arm wrapping around me. His warm breath drifts over my neck, lulling me into calm. “Goodnight, baby,” he murmurs in that sexy, sleepy man voice that does wicked things to me.
I close my eyes, all my thoughts dissolving into the silence of the house. Everything is perfect. Every creak of the floor, every laugh we shared, every heartbeat in the dark—it feels safer than it ever has.
Hours later, my eyes flutter open to a hush so complete the world outside our room might as well not exist. My mind is foggy, my body heavy with sleep, but I’m suddenly alert to the sound of Travis’s voice, low, brittle, and trembling with words I can’t quite make out.
It must have woken me up. I slip out of his arms, careful not to wake him, and sit up, rubbing my eyes as I try to work out what is happening.
He is murmuring something, a pain in his voice that seems... deep. It’s like it’s hurting him, even in his sleep. I reach out to put my hand on him, when a name slips from his lips. “Amber,” he murmurs. “I’m sorry, baby.”
“Amber?” I croak into the darkness.
My throat goes dry. I sit up, heart hammering.
Who is Amber? My breath catches, and I feel the promise I thought I had echo hollowly in my ears.
I slip out of the bed, every step feeling like betrayal, every breath burning in my lungs.
I hurry into the hallway, tears stinging my eyes before I even realize they’re there.
By the time I reach the top of the stairs, my legs are wobbling, and I’m forced to sit down.
I do just that.
I take a deep, steady breath. Maybe it’s just a dream, maybe he has watched a movie or heard a song, and it is coming out wrong.
People dream weird; maybe this is just a dream that sounds wrong.
My mind spins.
Something about the way he said it, the pain in his voice... it feels so real.
Mostly, it’s the nagging feeling deep inside my chest that I have had since the moment he got back.
That maybe, just maybe, I don’t know this version of Travis Phoenix at all.
THE NEXT MORNING, CHIEF’S booming voice wakes me as he pounds on the door.
“Violet, answer your fuckin’ phone.”
I roll to my side, noticing the bed is empty. Travis has gone. The memory of the dream last night jerks me into a harsh reality I don’t want to face.
“No,” I mutter.
“Fuckin’ answer your phone. Sally is calling me, she said it’s urgent.”
My heart lurches.
That can’t be good.
I get out of bed, picking up my phone and rushing out where Chief is standing in the hall. I can see the look in his eyes tells me he is as scared as I am about this call. I dial Sally’s number and put it on loudspeaker, my eyes still blurry from sleep.
“Violet?” she answers, her voice full of a concern I don’t like.
“It’s me. Is everything okay?”
“I wish I had better news.” Her voice is low, tight with fear. “Jeremy came by this morning to inform me, very proudly, that he’s dropped the case.”
I blink at her words. Relief warms my chest. “That’s good, right?”