“Shepley stomped into the apartment and slammed the door behind him. “She’s fucking impossible!” I kissed Travis on the cheek. “That’s my cue.” “Good luck,” Travis said. I slid in beside America, and she huffed. “He’s fucking impossible!”

“Good luck,”Travis grabbed my shoulders and planted a kiss on my lips. He pulled away quickly, nodding once. “That’s all the luck I need.”

“Don't even think about it, Travis. She's like my sister," America warned."Baby," Shepley said, "you just told him no. He's never gonna stop, now.""You're not her type," she hedged. Travis feigned offense. "I'm everyone's type!"I peeked over at him and smiled. "Ah! A smile. I'm not a rotten bastard after all.”

“Shepley shook his head. “No way. No fucking way, Trav. The guy’s a maniac!”“Yeah,” Travis smiled, “but he’s not fighting for his girl, is he?” Travis cradled me in his arms, kissing the top of my hair. “You okay, Pigeon?”“This is wrong. This is wrong on so many levels. I don’t know which one to talk you out of first.”“Did you not see me tonight? I’m going to be fine. I’ve seen Brock fight before. He’s tough, but not unbeatable.”“I don’t want you to do this, Trav.”

“You should know by now that it takes patience and a forgiving attitude to be friends with Travis. He’s his own universe.”I shook my head. “That’s the Travis everyone else sees…not the Travis I know.”

“America glanced at Travis before shoving the Honda into gear. “Look at him,” she said, shaking her head. “Travis Maddox: Mr. Mom.”