“Get ready for many firsts.”
Viola leans her head back against the headrest as I shift gears and slam on the gas. The engine roars as we merge onto the highway, and I shift once again until we’re cruising. Minutes pass and the silence cuts through the moment like a sharp knife.
“What are you thinking about?” I ask. She’s quiet, and I feel like she’s building that wall she’s perfected over the years. She turns her head and looks at me. If I could pull this car over on the freeway and fuck her again, I would. She’s that addicting.
“What are we doing, Travis?”
I grin. “We’re going back home for round two.”
“The truth, that’s all I want for once. Not a Travis King smartass answer.” The frustration and confusion are clear in her voice. She tucks her hair behind her ears, just like she did when we were young and would get nervous around me. There’s no jab at me, no hateful remark. Viola genuinely wants to know what we’re doing, but I don’t have an answer. The sexual tension between us has been evident for years, but now that we’ve finally crossed that line, I don’t think we could ever go back.
I focus on the road ahead of us, thinking how selfish I’ve been. I want her, but I’m worried if this goes any further than what it is right know, that I’ll only end up hurting her. I can’t give her what she wants and especially what she deserves. I won’t allow myself to be the man my father was to my mother. It’s one of my biggest fears and biggest reasons I need to protect her from me.
I take the exit off the highway and travel down the service road before turning into my neighborhood. I think about how to answer but know that whatever it is won’t be enough for her. “I don’t know.” I swallow, trying to find the right words, but nothing sounds right. “Being with you—”
She waits with bated breath for my next words, but they never come because when I see Jason parked in the driveway, my driveway, leaning against his car with his hands tucked into his pocket, I see red all over again
“Shit,” Viola mutters under her breath. “I forgot we made plans.”
I slow down before pulling into the driveway and parking in my usual spot. I rev the engine, but Jason, being the coward he is, doesn’t look at me.
I leave the car idling as my jaw ticks with rage.
“Are you fucking serious?”
“Travis, I’m—” she begins, but I interrupt, choking out in mock laughter.
“Go on, Viola. Your date is waiting.” I can’t believe she’d do this, but I have no hold on her. She’s not mine, no matter what’s happened between us, but that doesn't make any damn bit of difference to me right now.
“Travis…” she pleads, desperate for me to allow her to explain, but I don’t want to hear any of it.
“Get. Out.” My words are cold and emotionless. I can’t even look her in the eyes.
“Travis, please.”
I lean over her body and grab on to the door latch until it pops open. “Make sure to tell him I got you good and loosened up for him. Fucked you real hard and broke your pussy in.”
She sucks in a breath and narrows her eyes at me. My words are harsh, but that’s my intention. I want her to feel the same way I do at this very moment—angry, hurt, and confused. Just the thought of them together sickens me.
“Now.”
She forcefully pushes open the door and before shutting it she leans in. “Fuck you, Travis.”
“No thanks. Been there, done that.”
Viola slams the door and walks away toward Jason and his smug expression. She flashes a fake smile, but I don’t wait around to watch them together. Instead, I reverse the car out of the driveway and peel out as I speed down the street. At the first stop sign, I slam my fist against the steering wheel. I don’t even know how to process all of this. I’m losing myself, and I need to get a fucking grip.
This is everything our relationship is founded on. We can’t be in the same space together for long without a fight breaking out. One moment, we’re fucking perfect, and the next, we’re at each other’s throats. All that tension bottles up and releases in harsh waves, ready to jump each other’s bones or kill one another.
I end up driving to Good Times and decide I need a drink or two. I’m still in the slacks and dress shirt I wore to work, my hair now a mess, and the anger evident on my face. I need more than a drink at this point. My head is in a haze after all that’s happened today, and I replay every moment as I walk to the empty stool in the middle of the bar.
“Whatcha having, baby?” The bartender leans against the counter in a low-cut shirt. She’s cute and eyeing me like she’s going to take me home and do naughty things to me.
“Whiskey and Coke.”
She pours it tall and winks at me as she hands it over. I offer her a weak smile, and she licks her lips. If this were any other time, I’d be laying it on thick, flattering her and commenting about her looks, but right now all I can think about is Viola being with that tool bag, Jason.
I feel my phone vibrating in my pocket, but I ignore it. I need time to think. Or rather, I need to drink and not think at all. A few big gulps and the whiskey and Coke is gone. The bartender points at my glass, and I nod for another. As she sets it on the bar, I hear a familiar voice behind me.
“Travis?” I turn around and see it’s Courtney. “What in the hell are you doing here?”
She looks genuinely confused as she sips her martini. The music is loud, and she’s yelling to be heard.
“What are you doing here?” I don’t really care to hear her answer. I turn back around to my second whiskey and drink. She takes that as an invitation and sits on the stool next to me.
“You’re supposed to be in your bedroom, showing my best friend a good time.”
I sarcastically laugh. “No. She’s too busy fucking someone else.”
“Jesus Christ,” she mutters. “You’re both so damn stubborn.” I shrug, not disagreeing with her statement but not agreeing either.
“That’s it.” She grabs her phone from her purse, picks up her martini, and walks off.
“Don’t—” I turn toward her, but she’s already vanished into the hordes of people on the dance floor. Fucking great. I don’t have the strength to chase after her, but she doesn’t seem like the type of girl who listens very well anyway.
“Drowning in your sorrows over here?” the bartender asks with a smile on her face.
“Something like that.” I’m not in the mood to chat.
“She’s one lucky girl.” She pours me a shot of tequila. “This one’s on me. I’m Krystal.” She holds her hand out and reluctantly, I take it.
“Thanks, Krystal. I’m Travis.”
“Travis,” she repeats. “Well, whatever you’re drinking to, feel free to stay as long as you’d like.” She winks before getting called over to the other side of the bar.
The dynamic of the room changes as the music slows down. There are countless drunk couples grinding all over each other on the dance floor, so I bow my head and take another swig.
As I start on my third drink, I glance in mirror that lines the bar and see Viola walk through the door in the same blue jeans and T-shirt she was wearing earlier. She makes a beeline to Courtney who’s eagerly waiting on the edge of the dance floor with a huge smile on her face. Courtney pulls Viola into a big drunken hug, then points at the bar. I don’t know what the hell Courtney told her, but I try to blend in anyway. If I get up now, I might be able to make it to the door without being seen, but I have a tab open, and Krystal is busy at the other end of the bar. My body stiffens because I don’t want Viola to notice me, so I focus on my drink. After a few moments, I hear a clearing of a throat behind me, but I ignore it.