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I blink. “What?”
He reaches behind me and grabs the door handle. “Get in the car, Viola. We’re going home.”
I do as he says and buckle myself in. His silence is deafening, and I’m sure I’ll wake up filled with regret.
I lay my head back against the seat and close my eyes. How the hell did the night take such a turn for the worse?
“I can’t believe you drank that much,” I hear him mumble.
I turn my head and see he’s looking right at me. “Are you going to ground me now,father?” A loose laugh escapes my throat.
“I’d do a lot more than just ground you.”
“Ooh, I’m in big trouble, huh? I’m so scared.” I mock, digging the hole deeper and deeper. Apparently, word vomit is a thing. The words come out before I can filter them through my brain.
“You should be, V. You really should be,” he says, and I’m certain I see the corners of his lips tilt up.
“Don’t call me that again, Travis,” I hiccup. “I might have to show you what kind of virgin I really am,” I say as my body slides down the seat, and I rest my head in his lap because my world is shifting. I can’t be certain if it’s the alcohol or Travis King. Perhaps it’s the deadly combination of both.
CHAPTERNINE
TRAVIS
Goddammit.
The more she talks, the harder it becomes to hold my tongue. The moment I saw her with that piece-of-shit Patrick, I immediately sobered up. Drew’s my best friend, and he’d punch me in a heartbeat if he knew what happened. I know if I had a little sister, I'd expect him to watch out for her, too. (Minus the sultry dancing, of course).
Viola is a lot of things—a royal pain in my ass, a filthy smart-mouth, and a damn Goody Two-shoes—but she's not a girl who recklessly gets wasted and agrees to go home with a guy she hardly knows. Even after all these years of giving her shit and her giving it right back, I'd never let her leave with a guy like Patrick.
As she leans her limp body against mine, I try to find the willpower to behave myself. She might annoy the shit out of me and grate on my nerves every chance she gets, but I'm still a man. She looks fucking incredible tonight, hotter than I've ever seen her, and while on the dance floor, she was practically undressing me with her eyes.
“I sometimes don't hate you, Travis King,” she slurs, and then looks up at the sky.
“I guess I'll take that as a compliment.”
“You were so nice when I was little, but then you grew up and became a royal asshole.”
I roll my eyes, knowing she probably won't remember any of this in the morning.
“She okay?” the guy asks me, and I nod.
“Had too much to drink,” I explain. “She's my roommate for the next couple of weeks, and I wanted to make sure she got back home safely.”
“You're a good man,” he praises with a nod. “I've seen far too many dangerous things happen to women this late at night.”
I only purse my lips because if he knew the thoughts in my head right now, he wouldn't be saying that to me. Viola Fisher may be off-limits, but that doesn't stop my mind and body from reacting to her. As much as I love to drive her insane, I can't deny the way she's always made me feel, even when we were kids who knew nothing about love at all.
When we arrive to the house, I'm able to wake her long enough to get her inside. A rush of exhaustion hits, but I can't leave her alone.
“Travis…” she mumbles as I direct her down on the bed.
“What, Viola?” I kneel beside her, slipping off her heels.
“Viola?” she repeats. “Ooh, so formal,” she says in a mocking tone, laughing to herself.
“Can you undress yourself?” I ask, hopeful.
“I'd rather you did…” She giggles.
