“I know, but I …” I paused. My only other options were the couch or the recliner.
Travis grinned and shook his head. “Don’t you trust me by now? I’ll be on my best behavior, I swear,” he said, holding up fingers that I was sure the Boy Scouts of America had never considered using.
I didn’t argue, I simply turned away and rested my head on the pillow, tucking the covers behind me to create a clear barrier between his body and mine.
“Goodnight, Pigeon,” he whispered into my ear. I could feel his minty breath on my cheek, giving rise to goose bumps on every inch of my flesh. Thank God it was dark enough that he couldn’t see my embarrassing reaction or the flush of my cheeks that followed.
· · ·
It seemed like I had just closed my eyes when I heard the alarm. I reached over to turn it off, but wrenched back my hand in horror when I felt warm skin beneath my fingers. I tried to recall where I was. When the answer hit, it mortified me that Travis might have thought I’d done it on purpose.
“Travis? Your alarm,” I whispered. He still didn’t move. “Travis!” I said, nudging him. When he still didn’t stir, I reached across him, fumbling in the dim light until I felt the top of the clock. Unsure of how to turn it off, I smacked the top of it until I hit the snooze button, and then fell against my pillow with a huff.
Travis chuckled.
“You were awake?”
“I promised I’d behave. I didn’t say anything about letting you lay on me.”
“I didn’t lie on you,” I protested. “I couldn’t reach the clock. That has to be the most annoying alarm I’ve ever heard. It sounds like a dying animal.”
He reached over and flipped a button. “You want breakfast?”
I glared at him, and then shook my head. “I’m not hungry.”
“Well, I am. Why don’t you ride with me down the street to the café?”
“I don’t think I can handle your lack of driving skills this early in the morning,” I said. I swung my feet over the side of the bed and shoved them into my slippers, shuffling to the door.
“Where are you going?” he asked.
“To get dressed and go to class. Do you need an itinerary while I’m here?”
Travis stretched, and then walked over to me, still in his boxers. “Are you always so temperamental, or will that taper off once you believe I’m not just creating some elaborate scheme to get in your pants?” His hands cupped my shoulders and I felt his thumbs caress my skin in unison.
“I’m not temperamental.”
He leaned in close and whispered in my ear. “I don’t want to sleep with you, Pidge. I like you too much.”
He walked past me to the bathroom, and I stood, stunned. Kara’s words replayed in my mind. Travis Maddox slept with every one; I couldn’t help but feel deficient in some way knowing he had no desire to even try to sleep with me.
The door opened again, and America walked through. “Wakey, wakey, eggs ’n’ bakey!” she smiled, yawning.
“You’re turning into your mother, Mare,” I grumbled, rifling through my suitcase.
“Oooh …did someone miss some sleep last night?”
“He barely breathed in my direction,” I said acerbically.
A knowing smile brightened America’s face. “Oh.”
“Oh, what?”
“Nothing,” she said, returning to Shepley’s room.
Travis was in the kitchen, humming a random tune while scrambling eggs. “You sure you don’t want some?” he asked.
“I’m sure. Thanks, though.”