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“Wait,” I say, following his lead and standing up. “Likeout, out?”
“Yeah. You’re my girl, and I want to take you out for lunch. You okay with that?” His lips curve into a devilish grin, knowing exactly what his words do to me.
I pinch my lips, fighting the urge to plaster a big, cheesy grin over my face. Travis doesn’t do dates—ever. Even in high school, his hookups never got the royal treatment that I know he’s kept exclusively for me.
“Okay.” I smile.
We both dress and clean ourselves up. My hair looks like it went through the dryer, and my makeup is smudged all the way down to my neck. I watch as Travis splashes water over his face and gargles with some mouthwash. We both stand in the bathroom, getting ready like we’re some old couple that’s been sharing a bathroom for fifty years. It’s nice. Comforting.
He winces as he pulls his shirt back on, and that’s when I notice the bruise on his chest is still dark.
“It looks pretty dark still,” I say, facing him so I can analyze it better.
“It doesn’t hurt, Princess,” he answers as if he’s reading my mind. “Just a little sore when I raise my arms up, but other than that, it’s manageable.”
“Are you taking the pain meds?”
“Only at night, but I don’t plan on refilling them either. I have a follow-up appointment next week, and they’ll probably give me something that isn’t so strong if I need it.”
“You were lucky,” I say, rubbing a hand over the fabric of the shirt. “Probably it was all those bulky muscles that protected you from further internal injuries.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
I smile up at him. “It’s not. Just that they could crush me in a second, so I’m sure they acted like a little extra padding during the accident.”
“It’s possible. I’m sure if I were some scrawny runt, I would’ve snapped in half.”
“I know that feeling,” I deadpan, hiding a knowing smirk.
He leans down and kisses me softly. “Sorry about that.”
“I’m sure.” I smile again, and I feel like my cheeks are going to swell from all the damn smiling I’ve been doing this week. “All right, King. Feed your woman.”
“Lead the way, my lady,” he says, following me down the hall. Since Travis’ car was totaled, and he hasn’t bothered to rent one since he’s laid up, we have to take mine.
“Let me drive,” he says as we walk out to my car, holding his hand out.
I give him a look, pulling the keys back out of his reach. “I don’t know that I should trust you with Tatum.”
“Tatum? You named your carTatum?”
I put my hands on my hips and narrow my eyes at him. “Yes, Channing Tatum. Do you have a problem with that?”
“Depends. Do you have a name for all your favorite things?” he asks as we continue walking.
I roll my eyes, knowing where he’s going with this. “Let me guess. You think all girls name their tits Mary-Kate and Ashley.”
“I was going to say shoes, but if you name your tits, we have to talk about this.”
I throw him my keys and walk to the passenger side. “Here you go, Justin Timberlake. Don’t crash it.” I flash a fake smile his way just to push his buttons even more.
As we drive to the restaurant, Travis’s phone rings, and I see Drew’s name flash across it before he picks it up. He turns the music down and answers it after the second ring.
“Hey, man. What’s up?”
They chat for a minute before he glances over and looks at me. I can’t tell what they’re talking about, but it gives me a funny feeling.
“Okay, sounds good. So the both of you would go then?” he asks, glancing over at me again, and this time, I furrow my brows in confusion. What the hell could he be talking about?
