“So you’re the Pigeon, huh?”“No,” I snapped. “I have a name.”He seemed amused at the way I regarded him, which only served to make me angrier.“Well? What is it?” he asked.I took a bite of the last apple spear on my plate, ignoring him.“Pigeon it is, then,” he shrugged.”

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

“After a long pause in which he took the time to blink several times, he asked, "You named your breasts?"I turned my back to him with a shrug. "I named my ovaries, too, but they don't get out as much.”

“You’re important to me, you know,” I said, squeezing him.“I don’t understand you, Pigeon. I thought I knew women, but you’re so fucking confusing I don’t know which way is up.”“I don’t understand you, either. You’re supposed to be Eastern’s ladies’ man. I’m not getting the full freshmen experience they promised in the brochure,” I teased.“Well, that’s a first. I’ve never had a girl sleep with me to get me to leave her alone,” he said, keeping his back to me.”

“I took three steps back; he nudged the door closed with his foot. “You like Mexican?” he asked.“I—” I’d like to know what you’re doing inside my house!“Tacos?”“Tacos?” I echoed.This seemed to amuse him. “Tomatoes, lettuce, cheese.”“I know what a taco is!”

“Hey, Pigeon.”“Everything okay?”“It is now,” he said, pulling me against him.”