This is War (Checkmate Duet 1)

“I can’t believe you drank that much,” I hear him mumble.

I turn my head and see he’s looking right at me. “Are you going to ground me now, father?” A loose laugh escapes my throat.

“I’d do a lot more than just ground you.”

“Ooh, I’m in big trouble, huh? I’m so scared.” I mock, digging the hole deeper and deeper. Apparently word vomit is a thing. The words come out before I can filter them through my brain.

“You should be, V. You really should be,” he says, and I’m certain I see the corner of his lips tilt up.

“Don’t call me that again, Travis,” I hiccup. “I might have to show you what kind of virgin I really am,” I say as my body slides down the seat and I rest my head in his lap because my world is shifting. I can’t be certain if it’s the alcohol or Travis King. Perhaps it’s the deadly combination of both.

CHAPTER EIGHT

TRAVIS

Goddammit.

The more she talks, the harder it becomes to hold my tongue. The moment I saw her with that piece-of-shit, Patrick, I immediately sobered up. Drew’s my best friend and he’d punch me in a heartbeat if he knew what happened. I know if I had a little sister, I’d expect him to watch out for her, too. (Minus the sultry dancing, of course).

Viola is a lot of things—a royal pain in my ass, a filthy smart-mouth, and a damn Goody Two-Shoes—but she’s not a girl who recklessly gets wasted and agrees to go home with a guy she hardly knows. Even after all these years of giving her shit and her giving it right back, I’d never let her leave with a guy like Patrick.

As she leans her limp body against mine, I try to find the willpower to behave myself. She might annoy the shit out of me and grate on my nerves every chance she has, but I’m still a man. She looks fucking incredible tonight, hotter than I’ve ever seen her, and while on the dance floor, she was practically undressing me with her eyes.

“I sometimes don’t hate you, Travis King,” she slurs, and then looks up to the sky.

“I guess I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“You were so nice when I was little, but then you grew up and became a royal asshole.”

I roll my eyes, knowing she probably won’t remember any of this in the morning.

“She okay?” The guy asks me, and I nod.

“Had too much to drink,” I explain. “She’s my roommate for the next couple of weeks, and I wanted to make sure she got back home safely.”

“You’re a good man,” he praises with a nod. “I’ve seen far too many dangerous things happen to women this late at night.”

I only purse my lips because if he knew the thoughts in my head right now he wouldn’t be saying that to me. Viola Fisher may be off-limits, but that doesn’t stop the way my mind and body react to her. As much as I love to drive her insane, I can’t deny the way she’s always made me feel, even when we were kids who knew nothing about love at all.

When we arrive to the house, I’m able to wake her long enough to get her inside. A rush of exhaustion hits, but I can’t leave her alone.

“Travis…” she mumbles as I direct her down on the bed.

“What, Viola?” I kneel down beside her, slipping off her heels.

“Viola?” she repeats. “Ooh, so formal,” she says in a mocking tone, laughing to herself.

“Can you undress yourself?” I ask, hopeful.

“I’d rather you did…” She giggles.

I pinch the bridge of my nose, exhaling. “Viola…why did you drink so much?”

“To piss you off, and because I can.”

I press my lips in a firm line. “Put your arms up,” I demand. “You need to change out of this thing you call a dress.”

“Well, you wanted me to wear it,” she says matter-of-factly, her words slurring together. She finally raises her hands above her head and waits.

“I didn’t even know you were going out tonight.” The annoyance isn’t hidden in my tone. I brush my fingers along the bottom of her dress and pull it slowly over her hips, her waist, her chest, and then finally, over her arms and head.

“Why’d you take my clothes then?” She arches a brow as I toss her dress on the floor. She tilts her head, challenging a response.

I swallow. Removing her dress was a bad fucking idea.

She’s wearing a lacy bra and panties to match. I fight the urge to touch her and by the way she’s looking at me, I can see she’s fighting it, too.

“Not to mention, you only left me with thongs and my one lace bra.”

The corner of my lips tilt as I think about how pissed she probably was when she noticed. “Yeah, I’m only slightly regretting that right now.” Really regretting that decision.