I look him up and down and narrow my eyes at him. “Jealousy doesn’t suit you well,” I say, stating the obvious and choosing to ignore his last statement.
I’ve struck a nerve because all he does is take another swig of the bottle he’s tightly grasping in his hand. He doesn’t deny it, and in a sick way, it makes me happy.
“Were you thinking about me the whole time you were with him?”
He’s saying things to rile me up, but I refuse to let him win. “You’re the last person I think about when I’m out with attractive, available men who know how to respect me.”
“Liar.” He half laughs and takes a drink of water.
I walk to him, getting ready to give him my best, and notice his knuckles are cut and bloody.
“What the hell?” My face drops, and everything I was just about to say slips my mind. “What happened?” I’m generally concerned because if his hand looks that bad, I feel sorry for whatever took the brunt of it.
Travis shoves his hands in his pockets and doesn’t take his eyes from me. “It’s nothing.”
I notice the black T-shirt he’s wearing hugs his muscles and body in all the right places. The tattoos on his arms tell a colorful story, and I find myself gawking at a disheveled Travis King. All he needs is a leather jacket to nail the bad boy James Dean look, especially with that hair. Shit.
He lets out a slight laugh when I swallow hard. “See, sweetheart. Told you. You’re fantasizing about me right now.”
Being this close to him makes my skin burn with anticipation. The thought of his hands on me again is driving me mad, and it takes everything I have to push the thoughts away because I don’t want them. He does dangerous things to me, and I can’t continue like this.
“There are times when I wish I could shut you up forever.” I walk to the kitchen and shove the tequila back in the freezer.
“You mean there isn’t a spell for that?” He leans against the frame of the door.
I turn my head and give him a dirty look. “If there was one that would work, I would’ve used it already.”
As I walk past him, he doesn’t move but turns and continues to look at me. That’s when I smell the sweetness mixed with his cologne.
“When did you start wearing women’s perfume?” My tone is accusing, but I already know the answer.
His eyes shift slightly, immediately giving him away. Realization sets in as to what Travis was doing tonight, and my mind creates a repulsive picture.
“God, you’re disgusting. Have some damn self-control.” The moment those words spill out, I eat my words. Self-control, Viola. Must stay away from Travis King and his royal cock.
He doesn’t respond. Shrugging his shoulders, he walks the other way. As much as I fight it, I can’t stop the pang of jealousy that shoots through me, followed by anger. I remember why I’ve hated him for so long. He’s the king of all douches, a manwhore, and a one-upper. And I’m still the girl with a stupid crush.
Chapter 12
Travis
Monday morning is proving to be more of a bitch than I anticipated. I work out and go straight from the gym to work, so there’s no opportunity of running into Viola. Turning the radio off, I drive in silence. My mind is running a million miles an hour, thinking of when we were kids and the first time Viola asked me about boys. We were sitting in our spot on her rooftop when she brought the subject up. The way she glanced up at me, acting shy and embarrassed as she asked me how to tell if a boy liked her was sweet. The wind blew her hair around her face, and I was surprised she had worn her hair down. I watched as she tucked strands behind her ears as she fidgeted.
“Guys are simple creatures,” I explained, although I hadn’t much experience myself. The only girl I cared about spending time with was her, but I could never tell her that. “They will find any opportunity to be near a girl they like, even if no one else approves. He’ll just enjoy being around you.”
“I kind of expected you to tell me they’ll pull your hair and make fun of your clothes or something.” She laughed, her body finally relaxing. I loved her laughter and tried to make her laugh any chance I could.
“Well, that depends. Are you crushing on a five-year-old?”
She threw her head back, exposing her neck, and let out the purest, rawest laugh I’ve ever heard. I wanted to bottle that up and lock it away only for me to hear it.
“No,” she finally managed to answer, wiping away tears of laughter from her cheeks.
Without thinking, I leaned in and caught one with my finger. She swallowed hard as I brushed my hand against her cheek.
“If a guy likes you, he won’t be afraid to tell you.” The moment the words came out, I regretted them. I wanted to tell her. I wanted her to know that whatever she was feeling, I was feeling too, but I was a fucking coward.
I didn’t know how to explain what I was feeling.
“Oh,” she replied, her eyes lowering, and I could see the disappointment in her features.
I was an idiot.
“Are you excited for your birthday?” I needed to change the subject.
She shrugged. I knew she didn’t have a lot of friends, so I wanted to do something to make her feel special.
Viola Fisher was special. To me, at least.
I didn’t have a lot of money, but I managed to scrape enough together from mowing lawns to buy her something. I thought about it for weeks, wanting to get her the perfect gift.
I couldn’t let Drew know, though, because then I definitely wouldn’t hear the end of it. When I did finally pick out the perfect necklace for her, I wrapped it with some old wrapping paper I found in our attic and hid it under her pillow. Inside, I wrote a short note: When a guy likes you, he’ll make sure you know.
I knew I was crossing every single line by writing that note, but I didn’t care. I wanted her to feel extra special on her birthday. When she wasn’t burying her head in a book or reciting the value of Pi, she’d talk to me for hours about all the characters and different worlds she’d read about. I never knew what she was talking about, but it didn’t matter. I just enjoyed being around her even if Drew poked fun at me for it.
But that was the last birthday I ever bought something for her. Over the next few days, she dismissed me, throwing me out like yesterday’s trash. Anytime I tried talking to her, she’d ignore me or walk away. By the time school started back up, we were no longer friends at all. I was a freshman in high school, and she was still in middle school. Between working on the weekends and practices, we barely even saw each other in passing.
I pull into the parking lot and sit in my car a moment stewing on the flashback that resurfaced. I think about how different things would’ve been had I told her.
A text from Drew interrupts my thoughts.
Drew: Dude, what are your plans this weekend?
I almost want to tell him that my plan is to fuck with his sister, but…well, that wouldn’t be kosher.
Travis: No plans, other than getting laid.
I reply with a smug smile.
Drew: Glad to know nothing’s changed in the few days I’ve been gone. Come to the lake this weekend. We’re heading up early Friday. It’ll be fun.