“Travis took a step, but America pointed her finger at him. "So help me God, Travis! If you try to stop her, I will douse you with gasoline and light you on fire while you sleep!”

“So help me God, Travis! If you try to stop her, I will douse you with gasoline and light you on fire while you sleep!”

“Don't you remember, Travis? You ruined her sweater."Travis smiled. "I ruin a lot of sweaters.""Gross," I muttered.”

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

“You should have asked her first, Trav," America said, shaking her head and covering her mouth with her fingers. "Asked her what? If I could get a tattoo?" he frowned, turning to me. "I love you. I want everyone to know I'm yours. I shifted nervously. "That's permanent, Travis." "So are we," he said, touching my cheek.”

“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.”