“I gotta hand it to you, son. You’ve got the biggest balls of anyone that’s come through those doors.”

“I think you’re making a mistake,” she whispered. “You don’t need to go that party to meet a guy, you’ve got one that’s crazy about you right here,” she said, leaving me alone.”

“Travis’ mouth fell open. “Oh, hell no. Are you trying to get me killed? You’ve gotta change, Pidge.”“What?” “Get a t-shirt on…and some sneakers. Something comfortable.”“What? Why?”“Because I’ll be more worried about who’s looking at your tits in that shirt instead of Hoffman,” he said, stopping at his door.“I thought you said you didn’t give a damn what anyone else thought?”“That’s a different scenario, Pigeon.” Travis looked down at my chest and then up at me. “You can’t wear this to the fight, so please…just…please just change,” he stuttered, shoving me into the room and shutting me in.”

“His laughter bellowed throughout the house, and he patted my hand. “You’ve met my sons, Abby. You should know it’s damn near impossible to offend me.”

“One of these days you're going to fall in love, son. Don't settle for just anyone. Choose the girl that doesn't come easy; the one you have to fight for, and then never stop fighting. Never”

“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.”

“Back the fuck up or I’ll kill you!” he yelled to those staring at the fallen men. I gripped his arm tighter and he patted my hand. “I got ya, Abby. Just watch the fight.”