avis,” Finch lilted, winking at me.
“Finch,” Travis said with a nod. He dangled his keys. “I’m headed home, Pidge. You need a ride?”
“I was just going in,” I said, grinning up at him through my sunglasses.
“You’re not staying with me tonight?” he asked. His face was a combination of surprise and disappointment.
“No, I am. I just had to grab a few things that I forgot.”
“Like what?”
“Well, my razor for one. What do you care?”
“It’s about time you shaved your legs. They’ve been tearing the hell outta mine,” he said with an impish grin.
Finch’s eyes bulged as he gave me a quick once-over, and I made a face at Travis. “That’s how rumors get started!” I looked at Finch and shook my head. “I’m sleeping in his bed…just sleeping.”
“Right,” Finch said with a smug smile.
I smacked Finch’s arm before yanking the door open and climbing the stairs. By the time I reached the second floor, Travis was beside me.
“Oh, don’t be mad. I was just kidding.”
“Everyone already assumes we’re having sex. You’re making it worse.”
“Who cares what they think?”
“I do, Travis! I do!” I pushed open my door, shoved random items in a small tote, and then stormed out with Travis trailing behind. He chuckled as he took the bag from my hand, and I glared at him. “It’s not funny. Do you want the whole school to think I’m one of your sluts?”
Travis frowned. “No one thinks that. And if they do, they better hope I don’t hear about it.”
He held the door open for me, and after walking through, I stopped abruptly in front of him.
‘Whoa!” he said, slamming into me.
I flipped around. “Oh my God! People probably think we’re together and you’re shamelessly continuing your … lifestyle. I must look pathetic!” I said, coming to the realization as I spoke. “I don’t think I should stay with you anymore. We should just stay away from each other in general for a while.”
I took my bag from him and he snatched it back.
“No one thinks we’re together, Pidge. You don’t have to quit talking to me to prove a point.”
We engaged in a tug of war with the tote, and when he refused to let go, I growled loudly in frustration. “Have you ever had a girl—that’s a friend—stay with you? Have you ever given girls rides to and from school? Have you eaten lunch with them every day? No one knows what to think about us, even when we tell them!”
He walked to the parking lot, holding my effects hostage. “I’ll fix this, okay? I don’t want anyone thinking less of you because of me,” he said with a troubled expression. His eyes brightened and he smiled. “Let me make it up to you. Why don’t we go to the Dutch tonight?”
“That’s a biker bar,” I sneered, watching him fasten my tote to his bike.
“Okay, then let’s go to the club. I’ll take you to dinner and then we can go to the Red Door. My treat.”
“How will going out to dinner and then to a club fix the problem? When people see us out together it will make it worse.”
He straddled his bike. “Think about it. Me, drunk, in a room full of scantily clad women? It won’t take long for people to figure out we’re not a couple.”
“So what am I supposed to do? Take a guy home from the bar to drive the point home?”
“I didn’t say that. No need to get carried away,” he said with a frown.
I rolled my eyes and climbed onto the seat, wrapping my arms around his middle. “Some random girl is going to follow us home from the bar? That’s how you’re going to make it up to me?”