It never feels like enough.
Once my hands are blotchy and stinging from carpet burn, Travis and I lay tangled together on the floor. He kept me bent over, rocking back and forth inside me as I clenched my fingers underneath me. He wrapped an arm around my waist and rubbed my clit until I could no longer take it. His other hand grabbed my breast as I screamed out his name and he came inside me.
“I wonder if cum stains carpet.”
He chuckles. “I was just about to ask what you were thinking about, but maybe I don’t want to know.”
I playfully pat a hand over his flawless abs. “It’s a valid concern.”
“Oh, definitely.” I hear his condescending tone and know he thinks I’m being crazy.
“I’m going to google it,” I say, trying to sit up, but he pulls me back down.
“You are seriously the biggest nerd.” He wraps his arm around me again and kisses the top of my nose. “I’ll take care of it, okay? I think I have a little more experience in that area than you.”
I roll my eyes at him and sigh. “Fine.”
We lay in silence for a short moment until my stomach begins growling, and I realize I haven’t eaten since before class this morning.
“That’s it,” he says, pulling us both up. “You need fuel.”
“I can make something,” I offer, reaching for my bra and shirt. “I can make a grilled cheese and soup if you want.”
He grabs my hand and places a sweet kiss on it. “No. Not today, princess.”
“Oh?” I raise my brows. “Are you going to cook for me then?”
“Even better.” He places another quick kiss. “Today, I’m taking you out. Get dressed.”
“Wait,” I say, following his lead and standing up. “Like out, out?”
“Yeah. You’re my girl, and I want to take you out for lunch. You okay with that?” His lips curve into a devilish grin, knowing exactly what his words do to me.
I pinch my lips, fighting the urge to plaster a big, cheesy grin over my face. Travis doesn’t do dates—ever. Even in high school, his hookups never got the royal treatment that I know he’s kept exclusively for me.
“Okay.” I smile.
We both dress and clean ourselves up. My hair looks like it went through the dryer, and my makeup is smudged all the way down to my neck. I watch as Travis splashes water over his face and gargles with some mouthwash. We both stand in the bathroom, getting ready like we’re some old couple that’s been sharing a bathroom for fifty years. It’s nice. Comforting.
He winces as he pulls his shirt back on, and that’s when I notice the bruise on his chest is still dark.
“It looks pretty dark still,” I say, facing him so I can analyze it better.
“It doesn’t hurt, princess,” he answers as if he’s reading my mind. “Just a little sore when I raise my arms up, but other than that, it’s manageable.”
“Are you taking the pain meds?”
“Only at night, but I don’t plan on refilling them either. I have a follow-up appointment next week, and they’ll probably give me something that isn’t so strong if I need it.”
“You were lucky,” I say, rubbing a hand over the fabric of the shirt. “Probably it was all those bulky muscles that protected you from further internal injuries.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
I smile up at him. “It’s not. Just that they could crush me in a second, so I’m sure they acted like a little extra padding during the accident.”
“It’s possible. I’m sure if I were some scrawny runt, I would’ve snapped in half.”
“I know that feeling,” I deadpan, hiding a knowing smirk.
He leans down and kisses me softly. “Sorry about that.”
“I’m sure.” I smile again, and I feel like my cheeks are going to swell from all the damn smiling I’ve been doing this week. “All right, King. Feed your woman.”
“Lead the way, my lady,” he says, following me down the hall. Since Travis’ car was totaled, and he hasn’t bothered to rent one since he’s laid up, we have to take mine.
“Let me drive,” he says as we walk out to my car, holding his hand out.
I give him a look, pulling the keys back out of his reach. “I don’t know that I should trust you with Tatum.”
“Tatum? You named your car Tatum?”
I put my hands on my hips and narrow my eyes at him. “Yes, Channing Tatum. Do you have a problem with that?”
“Depends. Do you have a name for all your favorite things?” he asks as we continue walking.
I roll my eyes, knowing where he’s going with this. “Let me guess. You think all girls name their tits Mary-Kate and Ashley.”
“I was going to say shoes, but if you name your tits, we have to talk about this.”
I throw him my keys and walk to the passenger side. “Here you go, Justin Timberlake. Don’t crash it.” I flash a fake smile his way just to push his buttons even more.
As we drive to the restaurant, Travis’s phone rings, and I see Drew’s name flash across it before he picks it up. He turns the music down and answers it after the second ring.
“Hey, man. What’s up?”
They chat for a minute before he glances over and looks at me. I can’t tell what they’re talking about, but it gives me a funny feeling.
“Okay, sounds good. So the both of you would go then?” he asks, glancing over at me again, and this time, I furrow my brows in confusion. What the hell could he be talking about?
“Nah, I’ll be fine. Feeling good as new already.” They exchanged once again before he says goodbye and hangs up.
“Well?” I ask, anxious to know what Drew said.
“Apparently, you two are heading home this weekend.”
“What? Why?” This is news to me.
“Your mom called Drew and said she wanted the both of you to come tomorrow and stay the night.”
“What for?” I haven’t slept in the same house as my mother in almost four years. I love her, but we don’t have much in common anymore.
“I’m not really sure. He didn’t know specifics.” He looks over at me, concern written in his expression as he tries to read mine.
“Why don’t you ask Drew if you can tag along? Tell him you’ll be bored or something.” I really don’t want to go without him.
“You just want me as your secret sex toy, don’t you?” He grins, and I want to smack that smile right off his cocky face.
“Now I remember why I hated you so much,” I tease. I check my phone for any messages from my mom or Drew, and there are none. Why the hell didn’t she call me? Why didn’t he?
“Hate is really the sister of love,” he retorts, flashing a mocking grin.
“Hate is also the cousin of murder,” I fire back. His head falls back with laughter as he shakes his head at me. “Good to know sex doesn’t filter your sense of humor.”
“No, just my tolerance for assholes.”
He presses a hand to his chest. “Ow. That one hurt.”
I roll my eyes and smile.
We finally arrive at a charming little café for lunch. I’m so hungry that I warn Travis I might order the entire menu. He grabs my hand as we walk inside, and for the first time, it feels like Travis and I are a real couple, outing ourselves to the world and going on a date. Although it’s just lunch, it’s a huge step for us.