“You got a new one?” I asked, grinning from ear to ear.
“Yep, and a couple of other things, too. Thanks, guys,” he said as the movers lifted the old couch and left the way they came.
“There goes a lot of memories,” I smirked.
“None that I want to hold on to.” He sat beside me and sighed, watching me for a moment before he pulled off the tape that held the gauze on his arm. “Don’t freak out.”
My mind raced with what could be under that bandage. I imagined a burn or stitches or something equally gruesome.
He pulled the bandage back and I gasped at the simple black script tattooed across the underside of his wrist, the skin around it red and shiny from the antibiotic he had smeared on. I shook my head in disbelief as I read the word.
Pigeon
“Do you like it?” he asked.
“You had my name tattooed on your wrist?” I said the words, but it didn’t sound like my voice. My mind stretched in every direction, and yet I managed to speak in a calm, even tone.
“Yeah.” He kissed my cheek as I stared in disbelief at the permanent ink in his skin.
“I tried to talk him out of it, Abby. He hasn’t done anything crazy in a while. I think he was having withdrawal,” Shepley said, shaking his head.
“What do you think?” Travis prompted.
“I don’t know what to think,” I said.
“You should have asked her first, Trav,” America said, shaking her head and covering her mouth with her fingers.
“Asked her what? If I could get a tattoo?” he frowned, turning to me. “I love you. I want everyone to know I’m yours.”
I shifted nervously. “That’s permanent, Travis.”
“So are we,” he said, touching my cheek.
“Show her the rest,” Shepley said.
“The rest?” I said, looking down to his other wrist.
Travis stood, pulling up his shirt. His impressive six-pack stretched and tightened with the movement. Travis turned, and on his side was another fresh tattoo spanning the length of his ribs.
“What is that?” I asked, squinting at the vertical symbols.
“It’s Hebrew,” Travis said with a nervous grin.
“What does it mean?”
“It says, ‘I belong to my beloved, and my beloved is mine.”
My eyes darted to his. “You weren’t happy with just one tattoo, you had to get two?’”
“It’s something I always said I would do when I met The One. I met you … I went and got the tats.” His smile faded when he saw my expression. “You’re pissed, aren’t you?” he said, pulling his shirt down.
“I’m not mad. I’m just … it’s a little overwhelming.”
Shepley squeezed America to his side with one arm. “Get used to it now, Abby. Travis is impulsive and goes balls to the wall on everything. This’ll tide him over until he can get a ring on your finger.”
America’s eyebrows shot up, first to me, and then to Shepley. “What? They just started dating!”
“I … think I need a drink,” I said, walking into the kitchen.
Travis chuckled, watching me rifle through the cabinets. “He was kidding, Pidge.”
“I was?” Shepley asked.
“He wasn’t talking about anytime soon,” Travis hedged. He turned to Shepley and grumbled, “Thanks a lot, asshole.”
“Maybe you’ll quit talking about it, now,” Shepley grinned.
I poured a shot of whiskey into a glass and jerked my head back, swallowing it all at once. My face compressed as the liquid burned down my throat.
Travis gently wrapped his arms around my middle from behind. “I’m not proposing, Pidge. They’re tattoos.”
“I know,” I said, nodding my head as I poured another drink.
Travis pulled the bottle from my hand and twisted the cap on, shoving it back into the cabinet. When I didn’t turn around, he pivoted my hips so that I would face him.
“Okay. I should have talked to you about it first, but I decided to buy the couch, and then one thing led to another. I got excited.”
“This is very fast for me, Travis. You’ve mentioned moving in together, you just branded yourself with my name, you’re telling me you love me … this is all very … fast.”
Travis frowned. “You’re freakin’ out. I told you not to freak out.”
“It’s hard not to! You found out about my dad and everything you felt before has suddenly been amplified!”
“Who’s your dad?” Shepley asked, clearly unhappy about being out of the loop. When I didn’t acknowledge his question, he sighed. “Who’s her dad?” he asked America. America should her head dismissively.
Travis’s expression twisted with disgust. “My feelings for you have nothing to do with your dad.”
“We’re going to this date party tomorrow. It’s supposed to be this big deal where we’re announcing our relationship or something, and now you have my name on your arm and this proverb talking about how we belong to each other! It’s freaky, okay? I’m freaked out!”
Travis grabbed my face and planted his mouth on mine, and then he lifted me off the floor, setting me on the counter. His tongue begged entrance into my mouth, and when I let him in, he moaned.
His fingers dug into my hips, pulling me closer. “You are so fucking hot when you’re mad,” he said against my lips.
“Okay,” I breathed, “I’m calm.”
He smiled, pleased that his plan of distraction had worked. “Everything’s still the same, Pidge. It’s still just you and me.”
“You two are nuts,” Shepley said, shaking his head.
America playfully smacked Shepley’s shoulder. “Abby bought something for Travis today, too.”
“America!” I scolded.
“You found a dress?” he asked, smiling.
“Yeah,” I wrapped my legs and arms around him. Tomorrow it’s going to be your turn to be freaked out.”
“I’m looking forward to it,” he said, pulling me off the counter. I waved to America as Travis carried me down the hall.
· · ·
Friday after class, America and I spent the afternoon downtown, primping and indulging. We had our nails and toes done, errant hairs waxed, skin bronzed, and hair highlighted. When we returned to the apartment, every surface had been covered with bouquets of roses. Reds, pinks, yellows, and whites—it looked like a floral shop.
“Oh my God!” America squealed when she walked through the door.
Shepley looked around him, standing proud. “We went to buy you two flowers, but neither of us thought just one bouquet would do it.”
I hugged Travis. “You guys are … you’re amazing. Thank you.”
He smacked my backside. “Thirty minutes until the party, Pidge.”
The boys dressed in Travis’s room while we slipped on our dresses in Shepley’s. Just as I fastened my silver heels, there was a knock on the door.
“Time to go, ladies,” Shepley said.
America walked out, and Shepley whistled.
“Where is she?” Travis asked.
“Abby’s having some trouble with her shoe. She’ll be out in just a sec,” America explained.
“The suspense is killin’ me, Pigeon!” Travis called.
I walked out, fidgeting with my dress while Travis stood in front of me, blank-faced.
America elbowed him and he blinked. “Holy shit.”
“Are you ready to be freaked out?” America asked.
“I’m not freaked out, she looks amazing,” Travis said.
I smiled and then slowly turned around to show him the steep dip of the fabric in the back of the dress.
“Okay, now I’m freakin’ out,” he said, walking over to me and turning me around.
“You don’t like it?” I asked.
“You need a jacket.” He jogged to the rack and then hastily draped my coat over my shoulders.
“She can’t wear that all night, Trav,” America chuckled.
&nbs
p; “You look beautiful, Abby,” Shepley said as an apology for Travis’s behavior.
Travis’s expression was pained as he spoke. “You do. You look incredible … but you can’t wear that. Your skirt is … wow, your legs are … your skirt is too short and it’s only half a dress! It doesn’t even have a back on it!”
I couldn’t help but smile. “That’s the way it’s made, Travis.”
“Do you two live to torture each other?” Shepley frowned.
“Do you have a longer dress?” Travis asked.
I looked down. “It’s actually pretty modest in the front. It’s just the back that shows off a lot of skin.”
“Pigeon,” he winced with his next words, “I don’t want you to be mad, but I can’t take you to my frat house looking like that. I’ll get in a fight the first five minutes.”
I leaned up on the balls of my feet and kissed his lips. “I have faith in you.”
“This night is gonna suck,” he groaned.
“This night is going to be fantastic,” America said, offended.
“Just think of how easy it will be to get it off later,” I said, kissing his neck.
“That’s the problem. Every other guy there will be thinking the same thing.”
“But you’re the only one that gets to find out,” I lilted. He didn’t respond, and I leaned back to assess his expression. “Do you really want me to change?”
Travis scanned my face, my dress, my legs, and then exhaled. “No matter what you wear, you’re gorgeous. I should just get used to it, now, right?” I shrugged and he shook his head. “All right, we’re already late. Let’s go.”
I huddled next to Travis for warmth as we walked from the car to the Sigma Tau house. The air was smoky but warm. Music boomed from the basement, and Travis bobbed his head to the beat. Everyone seemed to turn at once. I wasn’t sure if they were staring because Travis was at a date party or because he was wearing slacks, or because of my dress, but they were all staring.
America leaned over to whisper in my ear. “I’m so glad you’re here, Abby. I feel like I just walked into a Molly Ringwald movie.”
“Glad I could help,” I grumbled.
Travis and Shepley took our coats and then led us across the room to the kitchen. Shepley took four beers out of the fridge and handed one to America and then one to me. We stood in the kitchen, listening to Travis’s frat brothers discuss his last fight. The sorority sisters accompanying them happened to be the same busty blondes that followed Travis into the cafeteria the first time we spoke.
Lexie was easy to recognize. I couldn’t forget the look on her face when Travis pushed her from his lap for insulting America. She watched me with curiosity, seeming to study my every word. I knew she was curious why Travis Maddox apparently found me irresistible, and I found myself making an effort to show her. I kept my hands on Travis, inserting clever quips at precise moments of conversation, and joked with him about his new tattoos.
“Dude, you got your girl’s name on your wrist? What in the hell possessed you to do that?” Brad said.
Travis proudly turned over his hand to reveal my name. “I’m crazy about her,” he said, looking down at me with soft eyes.
“You barely know her,” Lexie scoffed.
He didn’t take his eyes from mine. “I know her.” He furrowed his brow. “I thought the tat freaked you out. Now you’re bragging about it?”
I leaned up to kiss his cheek and shrugged. “It’s growing on me.”
Shepley and America made their way downstairs, and we followed hand in hand. Furniture had been pushed along the walls for a makeshift dance floor. Just as we descended the stairs, a slow song began to play.
Travis didn’t hesitate to pull me into the middle, holding me close and pulling my hand to his chest. “I’m glad I’ve never gone to one of these things before. It’s right that I’ve only brought you.”
I smiled and pressed my cheek against his chest. He held his hand against my lower back, warm and soft against my bare skin.
“Everyone’s staring at you in this dress,” he said. I looked up, expecting to see a tense expression, but he was smiling. “I guess it’s kinda cool … being with the girl everyone wants.”
I rolled my eyes. “They don’t want me. They’re curious why you want me. And anyway, I feel sorry for anyone that thinks they have a chance. I am hopelessly and completely in love with you.”
A pained look shadowed his face. “You know why I want you? I didn’t know I was lost until you found me. I didn’t know what alone was until the first night I spent without you in my bed. You’re the one thing I’ve got right. You’re what I’ve been waiting for, Pigeon.”
I reached up to take his face between my hands and he wrapped his arms around me, lifting me off the floor. I pressed my lips against his, and he kissed me with the emotion of everything he’d just said. It was in that moment that I realized why he’d gotten the tattoo, why he had chosen me, and why I was different. It wasn’t just me, and it wasn’t just him, it was what we were together that was the exception.
A faster beat vibrated the speakers, and Travis lowered me to my feet. “Still wanna dance?”
America and Shepley appeared beside us and I raised an eyebrow. “If you think you can keep up with me.”
Travis smirked. “Try me.”
I moved my hips against his and ran my hand up his shirt, unfastening his top two buttons, Travis chuckled and shook his head, and I turned around, moving against him to the beat. He grabbed my hips and I reached around, grabbing his backside. I leaned forward and his fingers dug into my skin. When I stood up, he touched his lips to my ear.
“Keep that up and we’ll be leaving early.”
I turned around and smiled, throwing my arms around his neck. He pressed himself against me and I untucked his shirt, slipping my hands up his back, pressing my fingers into his lean muscles, and then smiling at the noise he made when I tasted his neck.
“Jesus, Pigeon, you’re killin’ me,” he said, gripping the hem of my skirt, pulling it up just enough to graze my thighs with his fingertips.
“I guess we know what the appeal is,” Lexie sneered from behind us.
America spun, stomping toward Lexie on the warpath. Shepley grabbed her just in time.
“Say it again!” America said. “I dare you, bitch!”
Lexie cowered behind her boyfriend, shocked at America’s threat.
“Better get a muzzle on your date, Brad,” Travis warned.
Two songs later, the hair on the back of my neck was heavy and damp. Travis kissed the skin just below my ear. “C’mon, Pidge. I need a smoke.”
He led me up the stairs, and then grabbed my coat before leading me up to the second floor. We walked out onto the balcony to find Parker and his date. She was taller than I, her short, dark hair pinned back with a single bobby pin. I noticed her pointy stilettos immediately, with her leg hooked around Parker’s hip. She stood with her back against the brick, and when Parker noticed us walk out, he pulled his hand from underneath her skirt.
“Abby,” he said, surprised and breathless.
“Hey, Parker,” I said, stifling a laugh.
“How, uh … how have you been?”
I smiled politely. “I’ve been great, you?”
“Uh,” he looked at his date, “Abby this is Amber. Amber … Abby.”
“Abby Abby?” she asked.
Parker gave one quick, uncomfortable nod. Amber shook my hand with a disgusted look on her face, and then eyed Travis as if she had just encountered the enemy. “Nice to meet you … I guess.”
“Amber,” Parker warned.
Travis laughed once and then opened the doors for them to walk through. Parker grabbed Amber’s hand and retreated into the house.
“That was … awkward,” I said, shaking my head as I folded my arms, leaning against the railing. It was cold, and there were only a handful of couples outside.
Travis was all smiles. Not even Parker could dampen his
mood. “At least he’s moved on from trying his damndest to get you back.”
“I don’t think he was trying to get me back so much as trying to keep me away from you.”
Travis wrinkled his nose. “He took one girl home for me once. Now he acts like he’s made a habit of swooping in and saving every freshman I bagged.”
I gave him a wry look from the corner of my eye. “Did I ever tell you how much I loathe that word?”
“Sorry,” he said, pulling me to his side. He lit his cigarette and took a deep breath. The smoke he blew out was thicker than usual, mixing with the winter air. He turned his hand over and took a long look at his wrist. “How weird is it that this tat isn’t just my new favorite, but it makes me feel at ease to know it’s there?”
“Pretty weird.” Travis raised an eyebrow and I laughed. “I’m kidding. I can’t say I understand it, but it’s sweet … in a Travis Maddox sort of way.”
“If it feels this good to have this on my arm, I can’t imagine how it’s going to feel to get a ring on your finger.”
“Travis …”
“In four or maybe five years,” he added.
I took a breath. “We need to slow down. Way, way down.”
“Don’t start this, Pidge.”
“If we keep going at this pace, I’m going to be barefoot and pregnant before I graduate. I’m not ready to move in with you, I’m not ready for a ring, and I’m certainly not ready to settle down.”
Travis gripped my shoulders and turned me to face him. “This isn’t the ‘I wanna see other people’ speech, is it? Because I’m not sharing you. No fucking way.”
“I don’t want anyone else,” I said, exasperated. He relaxed and released my shoulders, gripping the railing.
“What are you saying, then?” he asked, staring across the horizon.
“I’m saying we need to slow down. That’s all I’m saying.” He nodded, clearly unhappy. I touched his arm. “Don’t be mad.”
“It seems like we take one step forward and two steps back, Pidge. Every time I think we’re on the same page, you put up a wall. I don’t get it … most girls are hounding their boyfriends to get serious, to talk about their feelings, to take the next step …”