“A familiar pair of strong, protective hands rested on my shoulders. “He won’t hurt you, Pigeon,” Travis said. “I won’t let him.”

“He won't hurt you, Pigeon," Travis said. "I won't let him.”

“I didn’t mean it, Pidge. If he hurts you—if he even makes you feel uncomfortable—you let me know.”The anger subsided, and my shoulders fell. “I know you didn’t. But you have got to curb this over-protective big brother-thing you’ve got going on.”Travis laughed once. “I’m not playing the big brother, Travis laughed once. “I’m not playing the big brother, Pigeon. Not even close.”

“If it’ll make you feel better, I won’t let him touch me. I won’t even let him get one in for his fans.”

“The anger subsided, and my shoulders fell. “I know you didn’t. But you have got to curb this overprotective big-brother thing you’ve got going on.”Travis laughed once. “I’m not playing the big brother, Pigeon. Not even close.”

“We walked to his Harley, and when I wrapped my arms around him, he rested his hand on mine.“I’m glad you were there tonight, Pidge. I’ve never had so much fun at a fight in my life.”I perched my chin on his shoulder and smiled. “That was because you were trying to win our bet.”He angled his neck to face me. “Damn right I was.” There was no amusement in his eyes, he was serious, and he wanted me to see it.My eyebrows shot up. “Is that why you were in such a bad mood today? Because you knew they’d fixed the boilers, and I would be leaving tonight?”Travis didn’t answer; he only smiled as he started his motorcycle. The drive to the apartment was uncharacteristically slow. At every stoplight, Travis would either cover my hands with his, or he would rest his hand on my knee.”

“He held the door shut with his hand. “I’ll stop fighting the second I graduate. I won’t drink a single drop again. I’ll give you the happy ever after, Pigeon. If you just believe in me, can do it.”“I don’t want you to change.”“Then tell me what to do. Tell me and I’ll do it,” he pleaded.”