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I know that living in the same house as him is going to be a lot for me to get used to. We have already fallen into a familiar way of touching each other. As much as I enjoy his gentle touches and hugs, I don't want to read too much into them. I know he is relieved to have found me, but I don't want to assume that means he has anything other than brotherly feelings for me. Letting myself hope for more would most likely just set me up to be disappointed and that could make staying with him awkward.
Besides, how could he feel anything more for me? I was just a little kid the last time he saw me in person, and sort of his cousin if you take his uncle marrying my mom into account. Just because I fell head over heels in love with him does not mean he did the same in regard to me.
I have to keep reminding myself of this because I don't want to forget and do something foolish, like climb him like a little monkey the next time he hugs me. It’s a tempting idea. Believe me.
His house is super nice: a cute two-story house outside of town on a gravel road with only a few other houses on it. He points out Blake’s house as we pass it. I like that his closest neighbor is his best friend. I’m glad that he hasn’t been alone all these years like I have.
Of all things, a white picket fence surrounds his yard. There is a red ball in the yard, and my heart plummets into my stomach. Does he have a child? And if he does, that must mean he has a wife. I cast a sideways glance at where his hands rest on the steering wheel. No ring and no ring mark, but I knew that already. I would have noticed a wedding band.
I just know that I can't stay here if he has a wife!
There is no freaking way. She would take one look at me and know that I want her man, and I couldn’t bear to see him being affectionate with another woman. It would break my heart.
Ugh! I have to stop wanting him! Right. This. Second.
Travis opens the front door and ushers me inside, his large hand pressing against the small of my back as he calls out, “Honey, I'm home!”
Hot tears well up in my eyes and my nose burns from forcing them not to fall. I take a sliding step away from him, hugging my pillow tightly. My heart constricts in my chest as I try to make sure I’m far enough away that his wife won’t be upset.
“It's about damn time,” a male voice answers, startling me.
I feel like I know the voice, which makes me more confused until a huge wall of man comes stumping down the hall on crutches. A large black and tan dog trails behind him, tail wagging like crazy.
He looks at me warily. “Don't have that bat today, do ya?” he grumbles, gesturing at me with a crutch.
Recognition floods through me. “Oh no,” I gasp, “I left it in your SUV. I'm so sorry I hit you.”
The memory of how scared I was washes over me and the tears I had been holding back moments ago break loose and slide down my cheeks, splashing to the golden wood floor in big fat drops.
“Oh shit,” Blake mutters, looking over my head at Travis, an expression of shock on his face.
The pillow I’ve been clutching falls to the floor as I'm spun around and pulled into Travis’ embrace. I feel so bad about hurting Blake and so relieved to finally be with Travis that I start sobbing.
Again.
I'm not usually such a crybaby, but the last four years have been rough and so much has happened in the last couple days that I just can't help it. My emotions are bubbling right under the surface. I will feel stronger in no time, I'm sure, but for right now I'm going to lean on Travis and let his strength prop me up for a little while.
I hear him mutter something to Blake as he leads me up the stairs to a bedroom. He lowers me to sit on the edge of the bed and I take in the sparse furnishings. There is only the bed, a dresser with a couple framed photos and a beautiful Chesterfield chair upholstered in a dark grey fabric that looks like velvet. Dropping to his knees in front of me, he pulls my battered sneakers off my feet and places them on his hard thighs.
“You all right, Sweetpea?” he asks, his voice rough with concern. His hands engulf my feet while his thumbs massage the arches. The tenderness of his touch sets me off again.
I’m such a mess. Ashamed of my lack of control, I bury my face in my hands and continue weeping.
“I - I’m sorry,” I gasp out between quivering breaths. I wish I could stop. It’s total bullshit. I’m sure there is some psychological reason behind it, but I’m over it.
I am so consumed by my tears that I barely even notice when Travis stands up, tugging me with him as he pulls back the covers on the bed. The smell of clean cotton floats up. It’s a comforting smell that reminds me of him, and I lean against his chest.
Stepping away from me, he pulls my sweatshirt off over my head like I’m a child, shocking me out of my tears. I cover my barely covered breasts with my hands gasping with surprise. I didn't stop to put on a bra when I took off yesterday. His eyes widen briefly at the sight of my nipples outlined by the paper thin cotton of my tanktop.
“You need to rest, Pea,” he rumbles, tearing his eyes away from my breasts and walking to the dresser, pulling out a t-shirt. Keeping his eyes averted, he hands it to me. “Since you like wearing my clothes…” he says, flashing his dimples and nodding toward where he tossed my… his... old sweatshirt onto the floor. “Put this on and crawl into bed. I’m gonna take Blake back to his place, and when I get back we are gonna catch up.”
That sounds good to me and I bob my head in agreement, taking the shirt while trying not to let my boobs pop out from behind my arm. They are fairly small, so it doesn’t take too much effort, but a girl's gotta have some class.
“Okay. I am still pretty tired,” I tell him as I turn my back toward him and pull the soft cotton over my head.
It reaches my knees. As if he didn't already see me as a kid sister…
Oh well. I really am tired. Too many emotions in a short amount of time. I kick off my baggy jeans and crawl into bed like I was told. Feeling like a kid, I yawn and snuggle down into the soft pillows, pulling his scent into my lungs.
