Eleven
Travis
“Are you ready?” Saylor asks after she’s closed her laptop. For the past few minutes, I have watched her multitask like crazy. She went from her phone to her computer without losing focus. “I sent your speech to your phone. Read it. Know it. You want to sound confident and self-assured. Let the people see the same Travis Kidd that they see on the field. The one facing his nemesis when the game is on the line.”
I nod, but I’m not so sure that I am any of those things she listed. Irvin leads us out of the office, and I follow behind, watching the sway of Saylor’s ass in her skirt. Days ago, I would’ve reached out and tapped her rear to get her attention, but now I can’t do that. I can no longer be the person I was because of what this rape accusation is doing to me. Even after I’m proven not guilty, people will be waiting for me to fuck up. All eyes will be on me, watching my every move. The Travis Kidd who could joke with women, pick them up in bars, and have a good time with them is dead. A new one has to take his place, because this shit isn’t worth it.
Saylor and I wait outside while Irvin takes care of something in his office. We stand side by side, pretending that there isn’t any tension between us. I put my hands in my pockets and let out a sigh, hoping to get her attention. When she doesn’t look at me, I decide I’ve had enough. “You’re fucking sexy when you work.”
“Excuse me?” She finally looks at me for the first time since we’ve stepped outside. I move closer to her and lean in, inhaling her perfume. The fresh scent of gardenia mixed with honey sends a jolt to my crotch. I want to spend hours nuzzling her neck until I smell like her.
“Back there in the office, when I said I had something to tell you and would tell you later. That was it. Watching you in action is mesmerizing. Have dinner with me tonight?”
She shakes her head.
“Why not?”
“Because I have a standing dinner date with Lucy.”
“So bring her, too,” I tell her. I know what comes with dating a single mom, and I’m game for it. Lucy is a kick-ass kid and had me in stitches this morning.
“We can’t, Travis. It’s crossing the line.”
I look away, pissed that she keeps bringing up this imaginary line. Doesn’t she understand that I want to get to know her? That the person being accused of this horrible crime isn’t me?
Before I can say anything else, Irvin comes out, talking on his phone. Saylor falls in step behind him, and once again I’m following behind her. Only now I can’t watch her ass, because her black wool coat covers it.
We pile into Irvin’s car, with Saylor and me in the backseat while Irvin stays up front. He tells his driver to take us to the police station, and my stomach drops. I start reading through the words that Saylor penned for me, as the dread continues to grow. What if I’m making a mistake by giving them my DNA? What if this backfires? “What if this isn’t a good idea? What if I’m setting myself up?”
“Did you rape her, Travis?” Saylor asks, looking square into my eyes.
“No, I didn’t. You know I didn’t.”
She looks away and nods. “You’ll be fine.”
“And what if I’m not, Saylor? We could walk into that police station and give a statement, and this whole thing goes away.”
Saylor turns and glares at me. Her eyes then fall on Irvin, who is still on the phone. She shakes her head and pulls her coat tighter around her. “You won’t understand.”
“Try me, because right now I’m scared fucking shitless to walk into that station.”
“You have nothing to worry about,” she whispers.
“Right. That’s really easy for you to say. You can clear my name, and yet you keep telling me that you can’t. If there is something wrong, then let me help.”
Her head turns toward the window, effectively shutting me out. I want to punch the seat in front of me but hold back. The driver didn’t do anything to warrant my anger. Saylor has, though, and I want to know what is going on in her world that she’s willing to let me go down in a blaze when she knows she could help me.
As soon as we pull up to the police station, many media agencies are outside and ready. Saylor laughs, and for the life of me, I can’t figure out why.
“What’s so funny?”
She nods toward the station. “I’m willing to bet that officer has been tasked with keeping the media in order. Not an easy task sometimes.”
I frown as I get out of the car and run around the back to Saylor’s door to help her out. As I reach for her, she sets her hand in mine, and I close my hand around hers. She stands, chest to chest with me, and even in her heels, she’s still shorter.
“Let me in,” I plead. It’s not because I need her to clear my name but because I want to get to know her. Waking up in her house, even though it was on a couch, was the best thing that has happened to me in a long time.
“I can’t.”