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Headlights behind me at a distance, taking the same turns as me.
I let out a shaking breath.
Yes, it did that and gone on. Like hundreds of other cars who took the same route as others. Maybe it’s simply in my head because Brian has been so protective. That must be it. Because it hasn’t stopped, just continued and now… Those slivers of unease aren’t new. And they aren’t something I have a right to; after all, the origins are from Maya’s attack.
I reach out and pull the fluffy throw that sits on the far side of the sofa up and over me.
What I need is to get out of my own ass, out of my own way, and let all the changes that have barreled down over me settle. All those good things. Like the baby. Like Travis.
It might have all been fast. It might feel like yesterday as well as a world away when I thought Travis hated me. But the changes, all the good and beautiful changes in my life, are real. They are mine.
I let the thought sit in my mind, move through me, and slowly lethargy creeps up over me, softening the edges, bringing with it a sweet comfort and the promise of sleep. And the half thought of some mindless TV drifts away.
And that’s when I hear it. At the door. The back door. Footsteps, the click of the door but not a key, and my heart thumps hard in my chest. An erratic, lurching thud as I sit up in the pools of darkness, hands gripping the blanket.
Light suddenly flares and Travis stands there, a frown on his handsome face, his jacket in one hand, the bunch of muscles on his arms usually something I find drool worthy, but right now, all I feel is relief. A river of it.
Breath rushes from my lungs as I try to smile. “You’re home early.”
“You didn’t see my text?”
My smile falters and then slips completely off my face. There’s something in his blue eyes, not a wall, but something else, like he’s there and not there, like distraction. And I figure it’s in my head, the disorientation of being half-asleep and snatched out of it with the glare of the light and my own suddenly overactive imagination.
“Oh.” I rub a hand through my short hair, the other still clutching the blanket to me. “No. My phone’s in my bag. I didn’t think… I’m sorry.”
“Baby, you don’t need to apologize. You just look scared that I’m here.”
I shrug. “I just didn’t expect you home yet.”
“That’s why I texted. Home early tonight.” Travis sets his jacket down and moves to the kitchen. “You hungry?”
“I… no.” My stomach growls, making a mockery of my words. Normally he comes over and kisses me, touches me, holds me. Tonight, he…
He is probably tired, that’s all.
I suck in a breath and push to my feet, trailing him into the immaculate kitchen. “I can make us something.”
He has his back to me. The wide expanse drawing me and I want to slide my hands up under his gray T-shirt, feel the heat of his skin beneath my palms like I’ve done a hundred times or more now, but I don’t.
The last thing I want to do is come across as needy.
“No,” he says, pulling open the fridge and peering inside. “I’ll make us something. You rest.”
He’s dismissing me. At least, that’s what it feels like. “Travis.”
He turns, a packet of ground beef in one hand. “Yeah?” His frown deepens, slips into something else, something more like concern. “You okay?”
Through my head a mantra starts, don’t say anything, it goes. And I shrug. “Yes— We’re okay, aren’t we?”
“What do you mean?”
“I just…” I stop, heat burning strong in my cheeks and I am grateful again for my tan, hoping like hell it will be enough to hide the blush. “I don’t know. You just seemed distracted, I guess.”
He sighs and sets the beef down on the counter and crosses to me, the light from the open fridge door lighting him from behind. Travis takes my face in his hands and gently lifts it up to face him.
“It’s been a long day, that’s all,” he says, brushing my mouth with his. “Now, you go rest and I’ll make us some pasta.”
“Okay.”
