“Let me guess, it's the love of your life?" I said quoting Travis' statement about his motorcycle."No, it's a car. The love of my life will be a women with my last name.”

“She’s not just a Porsche. She’s a Porsche nine-one-one GT-three.There’s a difference.Let me guess, it’s the love of your life?” I said, quoting Travis’statement about his motorcycle.“No, it’s a car. The love of my life will be a woman with my last name.”

“No, it’s a car. The love of my life will be a woman with my last name.”

“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.”

“Do your worst, Pidge. I’m tired of your shit.”I released his skin and jerked my arms, struggling against his grip. “My shit? Let me out of this fucking car!”He pulled my wrists close to his face. “I love you, dammit! You’re not going anywhere until you sober up and we figure this out!”

“I’m…pretty sure I’m in love with Travis,” I said, bracing for his reaction.”

“Travis grabbed my wrists and wrapped them around his middle. "There's nothing to hold on to but me, Pidge. Don't let go," he said pushing the bike backward with his feet.”