“I reached my hand across the table, sliding my fingers into his. “You meant what you said last night, didn’t you?”He began to speak, but Chris’ laughter filled the cafeteria. “Holy God! Travis Maddox is whipped?”“Did you mean it when you said you didn’t want me to change?” he asked, squeezing my hand.I looked down at Chris laughing to his teammates, and then turned to Travis. “Absolutely. Teach that asshole some manners.”

“My name’s Travis. Travis Maddox.” I rolled my eyes. “I know who you are.” “You do, huh?” Travis said, raising his wounded eyebrow. “Don’t flatter yourself. It’s hard not to notice when fifty drunks are chanting your name. “ Travis sat up a bit taller. “I get that a lot.” I rolled my eyes again, and Travis chuckled. “Do you have a twitch?” “A what?” “A twitch. Your eyes keep wiggling around.” He laughed again when I glared at him. “Those are some amazing eyes though,” he said, leaning just inches from my face.”

“Why me, Trav?”I had a thing for you since the night of that first fight.”What?” “It’s true. You in that cardigan with blood all over you? You looked absolutely ridiculous,“Thanks.”“It was when you looked up at me. That was the moment. You had this wide-eyeyed, innocent look…no pretenses. You didn’t look at me like I was Travis Maddox,” “you looked at me like I was…I don’t know, a person I guess.”“News flash, Trav. You are a person.”No, before you came, Shepley was the only one that treated me like anyone else. You didn’t get all awkward, or flirt, or run your fingers through your hair. You saw me.”“I was a complete bitch to you, Travis.”He kissed my neck. “That’s what sealed the deal.”“I hope this gets old soon. I don’t see myself ever getting tired of you.”“Promise?” he asked”

“I’m drunk, Travis. It’s the only excuse I have.”“You just want me to hold you until you fall asleep?”I didn’t answer.He shifted to look straight into my eyes. “I should say no to prove a point,” he said, his eyebrows pulling together. “But I would hate myself later if I said no and you never asked me again.”I nestled my cheek against his chest, and he tightened his arms, sighing. “You don’t need an excuse, Pigeon. All you have to do is ask.”

“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.”

“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.”