“Who can tell me which president had a cross-eyed wife with a bad case of the uglies?" Chaney asked. "Make sure you get that down," Travis whispered. "I'm gonna need to know that for job interviews.”

“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.”

“Are you okay?” Travis asked.“My hand stings.”He smiled. “That was bad ass, Pidge. I’m impressed.”

“Covered in tats and can’t take your girlfriend getting a simple script. I’ll be finished in a minute, Mate.”Travis’ frown deepened. “Wife. She’s my wife.”

“Travis tapped my apple with his fork. “You gonna eat that, Pidge?”“No, you can have it, Baby.”Heat consumed my ears when America’s head jerked to look at me.“It just came out,” I said, shaking my head. I peeked up at Travis, whose expression was a mixture of amusement and adoration.”

“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.”

“I'm sorry for calling you so early, but this couldn't wait. I can't go to dinner with you on Wednesday.""I can't see you at all actually.""I'm...pretty sure I'm in love with Travis.”