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Travis
Well, if you want some REAL dick pics this weekend, just let me know. ??
Smiling, I respond.
Viola
Why? You know a good porn site?
Travis
Don’t tempt me, Princess…
Viola
And what fun would that be? ??
Drew pulls up in his jacked-up truck just as I hit send, so I stuff my phone into my pocket.
“About time!” I shout through the window. “I could’ve been kidnapped out here, I’ve been waiting so long.”
“Shut up and come get your coffee, smart-ass.”
“Someone’s in a good mood this morning,” I tease, throwing my bag in the back and hopping in the passenger seat.
“I’m always in a good mood. What are you talking about?”
I snort and snap my buckle in place. “Well, are you ready to get this over with?”
“I’d rather cut my right testicle off.” He groans, pulling out of the parking lot.
“Well, I know a few friends of mine would be disappointed, so maybe leave them attached for now.”
He finally breaks a smile and laughs. “Deal.”
CHAPTERTHIRTY-ONE
TRAVIS
I’m actually startingto enjoy waking up to no alarm. As hard as it is, I try not to text Viola while she’s with Drew. The less distracted she is, the better, because her body gives her away, and we can’t be having that. And the fact that Drew is around, and Viola doesn’t ever lock her phone makes it a little dangerous.
My cell vibrates in my pocket, and I pull it out and see my mother’s picture flash across the screen. Quickly, I answer.
“I was thinking about driving over today to visit you. Want to go out for lunch?”
“Yeah, Mom, sure. I’d love to see you.” I look around at the mini-disaster the house is in and can’t help but glance at the spot where Viola and I christened the floor. It was a first for me, too.
An hour later, I decide to get dressed. I’m sure the whole Justin Bieber wifebeater and baggy jogging pants look with messy ass hair wouldn’t be acceptable. I at least have to try to look presentable for my mother. When I hear a car door shut, I check the peephole. Before she can knock, I open the door and pull her into a hug.
“Oh, son! Your face.”
I smile. “You should see the other guy.”
“I was worried about you. I stopped by the hospital.”
“I know, I know. I’m fine.”
I lock up the house, and then we drive to a deli across town that she loves. Apparently, they serve the best chicken salad in all of California, or so she says. Once we order, I fill her in on everything that’s been going on since the accident.
