TRAVIS

I’m beyond relieved when I finally get to leave work. Today’s been...interesting...to say the least. I’ve been assigned the project of a lifetime, which I’m pumped for, but of course it comes with strings attached—Alyssa Crawford.

Needing to let out some steam, I drive to the gym for another workout. I make sure to take my ear buds in with me this time. I don’t need any more distractions and the louder the music, the better I lift.

Luckily, the gym is quiet today, and I get a good hour in before I call it quits. I need a hot shower and food, but then I remember Viola will be at the house. After the way we left things last night, I’m not sure I’m ready to face her, but I won’t run away from whatever it is we have going on between us.

Things with Viola Fisher have been messy and fucked up for years. That’s nothing new, but the way she gave into me the other night, now that’s definitely new. This game we’re playing is dangerous, and it’s a lot worse with Alyssa. If I piss her off, it could cost me my entire career. However, if I screw it up with Viola, it could cost me everything else. Both are too risky to be gambling with and yet, here I am.

Shit, it’s only Monday and I already need a drink.

As soon as I pull up to the house, I see Viola’s car in the driveway and while part of me is relieved, the other part is terrified at which version of Viola I’ll be greeted by.

Turning the doorknob, I cautiously walk in, listening for any signs of life inside. I walk pass the kitchen and see no movement, I walk toward the living room and see her sitting quietly on the couch with another one of her nerd books.

Her hair is pulled up in a messy bun, but it looks wet, as if she just got out of the shower. She’s in her normal black leggings and a ratty college t-shirt, and her black-rimmed glasses frame her heart-shaped face. She continues reading even as I step closer, either too invested in her book, or ignoring my existence completely.

“Hey...” I say, testing her for a reaction.

“Hi,” she mutters, not even flitching.

“How’s it going?”

She swipes her Kindle, keeping her eyes fixed on the electronic page. “Fine.”

I pinch my lips together, rocking back on my feet. “Okay, then...” I mumble to myself, taking the hint and getting out of her way. For some reason, her indifference feels worse than when she greets me with a Hey, asshole or Fuck off, Travis. After all these years, it almost feels like her pet name for me—with a side of hatred.

I turn on my heels and walk to my room to grab a fresh set of clothes. Just as I’m about to walk out with a pair of shorts and a t-shirt in my hand, I see my top dresser drawer has been left open. I scan the room, looking for any other evidence that someone’s been in here, and the moment I walk closer to my bed, I smell it. I smell her.

Viola’s been in my room.

And possibly, on my bed.

Now why would Viola Fisher, president of the I Hate Travis King Club and all-around good girl, set foot in my bedroom? The corner of my lips tilt up, curiously, wondering what she was looking for and what it is she found.

That girl can shoot daggers at me until she’s blue in the face, but her body will give her away every time. She may hate me on the surface, but there’s something inside her that isn’t telling the whole story.

I walk into the hallway and peek around, to see her still sitting on the couch, reading. I want to so badly ask why she was in my room, but I’ll save that for another time.

Walking into the bathroom, her body wash scent immediately takes over my senses. A mix of fresh raspberries and something else consume me as I undress and turn the shower on. Does she have to be every-fucking-where?

Work left me tense and going to the gym helped a little, but not enough. I want to ring Alyssa’s neck for using Sloan to her advantage. She has me right in the palm of her hand and she knows it. She knows I’ve been trying to get promoted to bigger projects and the second I give in, she pulls the rug up from under me.

But how do I say no? How do I walk away from a promotion I’ve been working my ass off to get? Or rather the better question is, how do I survive the project, without Alyssa Crawford eating me alive?

I’m so distracted by my thoughts that it takes me a moment to see what’s behind the shampoo bottle on one of the shelves. What the hell is that?

Brushing both hands through my hair, pushing the water out of my eyes, I see it much clearer. Once I grab it and hold it in my palm, I know exactly what it is.

A pleased smirk spreads wide over my face at the thought of her using this in the shower, and screaming out her pleasure. I press the button, feel it come to life, and imagine Viola thinking of me as she gets herself off.

Now I know exactly why she came into my room—inspiration.

Once I’m finished, I turn off the shower, grab my towel and dry off. I don’t leave without her little toy in my hand. I’m about to give Viola Fisher a taste of her own medicine.

With my towel still wrapped around my waist, I strut down the hallway back to where she’s sitting, her nose still stuck in her eBook. I almost have to do a double take to make sure she’s breathing.

“So, V...” I stand behind her and lower my body, crossing my arms over the back of the couch where her head is resting. “Good book?”

“What do you want, Travis?” The disdain in her voice doesn’t go unnoticed. I can only laugh at how bored she sounds.

“Well, I was thinking we could play a little game.” Her eyes blink up away from her Kindle, but she doesn’t turn her head. “Winner gets bragging rights for the rest of the week.”

She lowers her lashes, her expression barely changing. “Not interested.”

“Hm...” I say, pretending to really be thinking it over. “I think you’ll be very interested in this game. See, it fully benefits you, I only get partial benefits.”

I see her throat move. “Then why would you even want to play?”

“For the thrill, princess. You know I can’t deny a challenge.”

Her shoulders move up and down, her breathing speeding up. “Fine. What is it?”

She doesn’t even take her eyes off her Kindle, but I’m about to change that real quickly.

“Close your eyes.”

That gets her attention. She jerks her head toward me, furrowing her brows. “Are you joking?”

“What? You don’t trust me?” I ask, the corner of my lips tilting up and giving me away.

“I wouldn’t trust you even if Jesus himself came and blessed your forehead with a Bible in hand.”

“Funny you bring up what’s in my hand...because I have something I know you’ll really enjoy.”

She narrows her eyes, knowing I’m definitely up to something.

“Viola...” I lower my voice. “Close your eyes.”

She waits a moment to read my face, but I don’t give anything away. She finally exhales and closes them.

“Good girl,” I praise. “Now relax.”

She obeys and releases a gentle breath. “If you smash a pie or something in my face, I’ll feed your balls to the birds,” she threatens and my smile widens.

“I wouldn't dare,” I mock. “The name of the game is Guess that Object. Are you ready?”

She sighs. “Sure.”

I step in closer to her neck and inhale her clean scent. If I didn't want to wring her neck the majority of the time, I’d be tempted to do much more that just smell her.

I bring my lips closer, just below her ear and place a soft kiss. Her body shudders. I see the strands of her hair stand up as her skin pricks with goose bumps.

“Is this where I guess?” she asks, unamused. “What's rough, dry, and promises an STD?”

I back away, trying to read her. I know she's fucking with me, but how can she pretend her body didn't react the way we both know it did.

“That’d be your virgin vagina,” I answer before she can.

She clenches her teeth. “That doesn't even make sense. How would you get an STD if I was a virgin?”

“So you're finally admitting you're a virgin?”

“No, asshole.”

“Then I rest my case. No evidence supports your theory.”

“Are you fucking high or something?”

“No.”

“You make no sense.”

“Fine, how about this? What's thick, long, and vibrates?” I don't wait for her response before continuing, bringing the toy around her and softly brushing it over her pebbled nipples. “And is used to make you come harder than a porn star?”

Her eyes spring open as she lowers her eyes and notices the toy in front of her.

“With my help of course,” I add.

Her jaw tightens, and I see her body go rigid. “You wouldn't know what to do with that,” she hisses, grabbing it out of my hand.

“I'm pretty sure you don't know what to do with that.”

“I know enough to not need you.” Fuck. She’s feisty today.

“That’s not what it sounded like the other day.”

“That was a moment of weakness.”

“Are you saying you'd rather get off with some fake cock than a real one?”

“When I have to. What's it to you anyway?”

I narrow my brows, really seeing Viola in a much different way. I expected her to be humiliated when she realized she left it in the shower, but she’s barely flinched. Instead, she owns it completely. She's definitely not an innocent twelve-year-old girl anymore. She's the one girl who sees through my lines of bullshit and charm.

“It's important to me if you can get yourself off or not,” I say, genuinely and mocking all at the same time. “As your temporary roommate, it's my job to make sure you’re taken care of. If this little battery operated thing isn't doing it, we’ll need to seek other options.”

“The vibrator only does part of the job,” she informs me, her words strong. “While I fuck myself, I rub my other hand over my clit, faster and faster, until my knees buckle and I scream.”

My throat is so fucking dry, I can barely get the words out. “You're messing with me.”

She smiles and lowers her eyes back to her Kindle. “You should know better than to play mind games with a princess, King.”

She thinks she’s won, but the fun is only beginning.

––––––––

VIOLA

I can’t believe Travis just walked out here with my vibrator, all cocky and hell bent on embarrassing me. I’ll deny it till the day I die, but I was so distracted by how sated I felt, that I completely forgot it afterwards. Knowing how well he can work me up, Travis King and a vibrator can only mean dangerous things—dangerous things and dangerous thoughts.

I finish reading my chapter and when my phone vibrates, I see I have messages from Jason and Courtney. I smile as soon as I read her message. You’re missing out on all the hot cowboys. I’ve already been proposed to twice.

I’ve missed her since she left. Had I known the circumstances that I know now, I would’ve changed my mind.

I type out a response. I wouldn’t mind if you brought one home for me. However, with my current track record, maybe don’t. I’d just scare them off.

I glance over at Travis who’s made himself comfortable in the chair next to me. After he dressed, he brought all his work shit out here and started looking over his laptop. Aside from his basketball shorts and junkie t-shirt, he looks all business. I can still smell the fresh scent of his shower on him and it’s consuming my senses as I try to stay focused on hating him.

You mean staying with Travis isn’t helping your dating life? Her next message reads, and I can hear the sarcasm dripping from her mouth.

Travis lost his shit when I went out with Jason. I hit send, quickly looking up to see if Travis can tell I’m talking about him. He’s barely flinched, so I know he’s completely zoned into whatever he’s working on.

I pretend I’m reading on my phone as I wait for her to respond. She’s knows all about Travis since last summer she flew back and visited me for a couple weeks. I always stay with Drew, but Travis and I have always had a mutual agreement to not be around each other anymore than we had to. Not much time has passed, and I’m already in hell.

That’s because he so obviously wants you. I can even tell you that from all the way over here!

No, he’s hellbent on ruining my life.

Well, the offer still stands. Could book a flight and be here by tomorrow!

I wish.

I can’t. I already promised Drew and Mia I’d go to Lake Tahoe this weekend.

Did you really have to mention that bitch’s name?

I chuckle, anticipating that exact reaction. She’s had a crush on Drew since the first day she met him, four years ago. Drew’s a good-looking guy, a police officer, but he’s clueless to how he affects girls. Unlike Travis, he doesn’t think he’s God’s gift to the women population.

LOL, sorry.

I want to hear about all the juicy details when I get back!

Trust me, there’ll be no details to give.

I highly doubt that. Mwah!

I sigh and roll my eyes. Courtney always knows how to brighten my mood, even if it’s at her expense. I click back to my messages and read over Jason’s.

Any chance you’d be interested in joining me for a Battle of the Bands Wednesday night? I promise it’s not as lame as it sounds.

I’m a little surprised he’s asking me out again. I figured Travis would’ve scared him off and if it wasn’t for the way he looked at me as if he wanted to eat me for dessert, I’d be giddy as fuck for his invitation. But Jason doesn’t make me feel anything. There’s no spark. However, it’d get me out of the house for the night and give me more ammunition against Travis.

Since I’m not in the business of using guys and leading them on, I tell Jason the truth. If I’m going to get back at Travis for his stunt with my vibrator, it might as well be testing his jealousy limitations.

I’d love to go! But I have to tell you it’d just be as friends. You cool with that?

Even if he does agree to just be friends, Travis doesn’t have to know that. In fact, I think I’ll even make a trip to the mall beforehand for some essentials.

Honestly, I’m glad you mentioned that. I was thinking the same thing, so I’m glad we’re on the same page. You’re a cool chick to hang with and if I can avoid Drew’s foot in my ass, I’d rather take that route.

I let out a nervous giggle and send him back a smiley emoji.

Pick you up around seven.

Sounds good! See you then.

“Fucking piece of shit!” Travis’ deep roar makes me jump and for a split-second, I forgot he was here. “The hell you work this thing?” His fingers are furiously stabbing the keyboard.

“You mean it’s not doing exactly what you say even after you sweet-talked it?”

“Not now, Viola.” His shoulders tense.

“Ooh, Viola. You must mean business,” I mock, ignoring his harsh tone.

He glares at me, not at all impressed with my backtalk. I turn back to my kindle, ready to ignore him once again. But then he surprises me and grabs my attention in a much softer, helpless tone.

“Any chance you know the common restrictive regulations for advertising in the European market?

“I might,” I say, not even looking up from my book.

“Do you think you could maybe help me out before I smash my fist through the screen?”

“You mean to tell me you actually don’t know something?” I ask, smug. “But I thought you knew everything?”

“Do you always have to be a sarcastic know-it-all?”

“Well, I don’t have to be, but I think it adds to my appeal,” I smile, gloating.

I finally look over at him and see a disheveled Travis. He looks more tired than usual, maybe even mentally exhausted. Hell, it’s only day three of this two-week roommate arrangement, and I’m mentally exhausted from whatever it is we have going on. The back and forth, the tormenting one another, the emotional exhaustion that comes with hating him one moment and wanting his hands all over me the next.

I clear my throat to distract myself from those thoughts. Showing any signs of vulnerability around him would only make things worse. He’d use it in any way possible to get back at me.

“All right, smartass. So can you help me or not?” His tone isn’t as harsh, but I can see he’s frustrated.

Hm...a little frustration and groveling might be good for him. “Well, I could...” I linger, not quite ready to give in.

He exhales roughly, tightening his grip on the chair rest. “Will you?” His features tighten and his jaw locks, frustration written all over him. I almost feel bad for messing with him. Almost.

“What’s in it for me?” I ask, using the opportunity to gain some of the household power back.

“Um...how about a roof over your head? A fridge filled with food? A bed to sleep in?”

“You mean, half of those things. Drew pays the rent, too. And face it, you’d still be paying for those things even if I wasn’t here, so your argument is invalid.”

He rolls his eyes. “Fine, whatever. What do you want?”

I turn slightly, facing him. I need him to know I’m serious. “I help you with whatever project you’re working on and you have to abide by all the house rules. No exceptions.”

His head falls back against the chair cushion and I can tell he’s rolling his eyes at me. “So you basically want me to be a monk in my own damn house?”

“Just while I’m here...” I correct. “The moment I leave, throw a naked kegger for all I care.”

He snorts, his face finally loosening up a bit. “All right. If that’s what it’s going to take, then fine.”

“Wow, look at us!” I beam, plastering on a wide, fake smile. “Compromising like an old divorced couple.” Or at least making some progress at making this work the rest of the time I’m here.

However, I have a feeling this weekend isn’t going to be so accommodating.