CHAPTER SIX

TRAVIS

Viola has me so fired up, I hit the gym extra hard Friday morning. Since I’m off work, I don't have to rush out and can do an extra three miles on the treadmill. Maybe that’ll get my mind off her.

I focus on the TV screen in front of me, but no matter how much I fight it, memories of her invade my mind.

It was the first summer I met Viola and Drew and they had immediately made me feel welcomed into their home. Their parents often invited me to stay for dinner, but I always felt too nervous to accept until I finally ran out of excuses. I knew my parents wouldn’t mind—or even notice—so finally I agreed to stay one night.

Viola sat across the table from me, her brown hair pulled back in pigtails. She twirled one around her fingers and nervously chewed on her lip. Drew sat next to me, tapping his foot against the table leg until his father cleared his throat to stop him.

“Dinner’s just about ready,” their mom announced from the kitchen.

“Do you need help, sweetheart?” Mr. Fisher called from the table.

Moments later, Mrs. Fisher walked through the swing door, carrying a platter of ribs. “No thanks, darling.”

I watched them together as Mr. Fisher took the platter from her hands and placed it in the middle of the table. He gripped her chin and placed a quick kiss on her lips, thanking her for preparing such a wonderful meal. The love they shared was evident, but I’d never witnessed it in my own home.

Was this what a family was supposed to look like?

“Stop sucking face,” Drew blurted out. Mrs. Fisher’s cheeks turned red as Viola giggled.

“Drew,” Mr. Fisher warned. Drew slumped back in defeat.

“It’s fine,” Mrs. Fisher reassured. “We’re so glad you could stay, Travis.”

“Glad to be here.” I cleared my throat as I sat up straighter.

“You know, I’ve been meaning to invite your parents over for a cook-out—”

“Oh, I wouldn’t bother,” I cut her off without thinking. Everyone froze, staring at me. “They aren’t really the grilling out kind.”

More like they aren’t really the sitting-at-the-table-eating-as-a-family kind, but I wasn’t about to admit that out loud.

With a nod and small smile, she dropped the subject.

I watched as Mr. Fisher sat on one end of the table and Mrs. Fisher on the other. They mirrored a picture-perfect 1950s sitcom family. They gazed at one another from across the room, completely in sync, as they served up our plates. I watched as he winked at her and she smiled wide.

I’d never seen anything like it before.

There was no yelling. No tension in the air. No feeling like you were stepping on eggshells and had to watch what you said before you said it.

It was nice. Freeing.

Drew and Viola went on eating, unaffected by how their parents looked at each other, as if they were still newlyweds on their honeymoon. It was normal for them. Normal family behavior.

To them.

I couldn’t remember the last time I’d ever seen my parents act like that. I couldn’t remember because it’d never happened. Not in my family. I knew then my parents weren’t in love. They were together for appearances, and it hurt. Watching the Fisher family interact showed me what I had been missing all those years. The adoration in the room was almost contagious.

Looking back, I could remember a time where my mother would at least pretend to be happy. She’d paint a smile on her face, cover up the hurt and pain she’d be feeling, and tell me everything was just fine.

Then she eventually stopped pretending. I was just a kid, but I knew. I heard my father yelling over inconsequential things, and I saw the way it affected my mother. I didn’t realize just how dysfunctional my family truly was. Until I saw what it meant to be a family, how a man was supposed to treat his wife, and how loving the Fishers were to one another.

Drew and I grew up together, but we didn’t grow up the same. He was rugged on the outside, but wore his heart on his sleeve. After that dinner, I prayed for a family like the Fishers. But every day I woke up in a house that served as my own personal prison.

When you’re told to get over it and be a man, you bury any feelings that threaten to surface. Showing emotion meant you were weak, and if my father saw weakness in me, he’d exploit it. I learned to be numb. Men don’t cry, he’d tell me. Men definitely didn’t show remorse.

I knew, even as a young teen, that my dad was a hardass. He never said he loved me or my mom. He didn’t express love or show affection or give any indication at all that he wanted us. We were a burden, and yelling was his way of communication. It was his way or the highway. His iron fist ruling eventually what drove me away. Once I left, I swore I’d never move back home, regardless of how much I struggled. Struggling was better than being around the man I grew to hate.

The first time I ever liked a girl, I was eleven years old. She was in the Sunday school class that my mom made me go to every week. I knew she liked me, because every time I sat by her, she’d avoid eye contact with me and she’d blush anytime she caught me looking at her. A girl who sat on the other side of her giggled and stared at me. The more she laughed, the more I wanted to scream at her to shut up. Stop laughing. Stop looking at me. Why the hell is she laughing at me?

It was the first time I’d ever felt uncontrollable anger. I didn’t understand it. I jumped up, mumbled an excuse about going to the bathroom and hid out until the class was over. My palms were sweaty and my body shook with anxiety.

My first reaction to a girl’s attention was to yell at her. I knew yelling was rude and would’ve been completely out of line, but it was my gut instinct. It wasn’t until a couple years later that I understood exactly what had happened. Yelling and anger were the only emotions I’d been taught growing up. It was the only means I had of reacting to an uncomfortable situation. Then when I met Viola, the urge to protect her overwhelmed me and for a while I thought maybe I wasn’t like my father. But then she started asking about boys, and how she could tell if a boy liked her, and I could only see red. My throat tightened, my hands balled into fists, and I nearly drew blood from my teeth sinking into my bottom lip. The urge to scream at her came out of nowhere and I barely managed to stop myself.

Her soft voice calmed me down, and I reeled my emotions back in check, but I knew from that day forward, a part of my father would always be inside me. He’d been treating my mother like that for years, and now I knew—I was built from the same blueprint.

I didn’t have to protect Viola from boys at school.

I had to protect her from me.

––––––––

“Hey, Travis.” Jeni’s voice brings me out of the past and back into the present with a small wave and knowing smile as I wipe down the equipment. “Lookin’ pretty good out there.”

I clear my throat, shaking the thoughts from my mind. “Thanks. Not looking so bad yourself, babe.” I wink, knowing it’ll get her excited. I finish cleaning the treadmill and walk over to put the spray back. She follows.

“How’ve you been?” I ask, remembering the last time we hooked up in the co-ed shower.

“Not too bad. Heading to Florida for spring break in the morning, but I don’t have any plans tonight.” I know exactly what she’s implying and after Viola ran off my date last night, I don’t pause to take the bait.

“Well, we can’t have you leaving without a farewell party.” I grin and her eyes sparkle. I let her take my hand and follow her into one of the vacant shower stalls.

“How do you want it, babe?” I ask, ripping my clothes off before turning the water on.

She smiles, undressing as she lowers her eyes down my body. “No limits,” she responds, making my dick jump.

“Fine by me...” I turn the water on and pull her chest to mine. The water cascades down my back and before I can maneuver both of our bodies under the warmth, she has my dick in her hand.

I tilt her chin and bring her lips to mine. She hums into my mouth and strokes me harder. It feels fucking amazing. After dealing with Viola’s bullshit for the past twenty-four hours, I need a release.

I glide a hand up her side and palm her breast, rolling her nipple in between my fingers. The way her body responds to mine has my skin on fire. One moment, I’m kissing and touching Jeni, a girl who means nothing to me, and the next, images of Viola surface my mind: Wet and naked Viola, her gorgeous tits on display, her ripe ass as she walked away from me. Then there was the way her body felt against mine last night. I know she was turned on just as much as I was. My cock was so fucking hard, I had to jerk off before bed just to calm the hell down.

“Travis...” Jeni purrs in my ear. She’s waiting for me to fuck her, but I can’t.

I remember the way Viola’s visibly taut nipples rubbed against the fabric of her tank and how I wanted to taste them. Goddammit, Viola Fisher! Even when she isn’t around, she’s cockblocking.

“Jeni...” I say, trying to gently push her away.

“Yeah, baby? Want to bend me over?”

Fucking hell.

“Jeni, no.” I finally break away from her hold, forcing her to look me in the eyes. “I’m sorry. I can’t right now.” I can't believe I'm saying this.

“Are you fucking kidding?” Her face turns a dangerous shade of red, her temper hot.

I brush a hand through my wet hair, flustered just as much as she is. “I wish I was.”

“You son of a bitch,” she hisses, pressing both hands on my chest and pushing with every ounce of muscle she has. I stumble back, slipping as I try to regain my stance, but end up slamming my face against the shower faucet.

“Shit,” I curse, trying to find my balance. “The fuck was that for?” I press a hand to my cheek, already feeling the bruise form.

“You know exactly for what, asshole.” She grabs the shower curtain, pulls it open and immediately grabs the only towel on the hook. She turns and glares at me. I watch as she wraps the towel around her body and storms out. Great.

I close my eyes and brush both hands over my face under the water. What the hell is wrong with me? And why am I letting Viola Fisher get in my damn head?

––––––––

When I return back to the house, there’s a car in the driveway I don’t recognize. I know Viola had her last day of classes today, but her car is there too, so she must’ve come back with someone.

Grabbing my gym bag from the car, I head in and am surprised to see Viola on the couch with another guy. The corner of my lips tilt as I see what a scrawny little shit he is.

“What’s up, V?” I ask in an overly friendly way, setting my bag on the table and grabbing the dude’s attention.

“We’re studying,” she says dryly, not even looking up at me. “Don’t get in the way.”

“You remember this is my house, right? I don’t have to go anywhere.”

“I-We can study another time...” scrawny boy interrupts.

“No, we’re in the middle of a session,” she tells him, ignoring the fact I’m standing right behind her. “Travis won’t be an issue.”

I raise my brow at that. “Not at all.” I grab the remote off the arm of the couch and click the TV on.

She sighs immediately. “Do you have to do that right now?”

“I watch the news every day, princess.”

“So go watch it in your room.”

“Go study in your borrowed room,” I retort. “I pay rent here.”

“Maybe I should go.” Scrawny boy starts shuffling his books, preparing to stand up until Viola grabs his wrist and yanks him back down. Even she is overpowering him with her small frame.

“No,” she demands, her lips pull in a tight line. “Just pretend he isn’t here.”

I scoff. Right. If she were capable of that, we wouldn’t be in this little war.

I busy myself in the kitchen, grabbing a bag of frozen peas, and just because I need a little extra pain reliever, the bottle of tequila.

I sit on the chair adjacent from the couch, where Viola and her little study buddy are sitting. She avoids looking at me as she scoots herself closer to him, pressing a hand to his arm.

“So Professor Gable’s study guide is only about half of what he actually puts on his finals,” she explains, leaning over to show him the packet. And by leaning over, she’s actually giving him a VIP look down her shirt. Intentionally, I’m sure, considering they were at least a foot apart when I first walked in. “So what we’ll need to focus on is everything else you took notes on during the semester.”

“I don’t have any notes,” he states, and I roll my eyes. Sure he doesn’t.

“I might have some notecards from his class in my binder. We can go look in my room if you want.” She accentuates dramatically, stacking up her notebooks on her lap. “Plus, it’ll be less distracting.”

She finally turns and looks at me, glaring, until she sees my cheek and her face drop.

“What happened to you?” Her voice is sincere, worried even, but I don’t take the bait. She leans over, getting a better look and cringes. “Jesus.” Her hand reaches out to touch it, but she catches herself and drops it back in her lap.

Her little boy toy looks annoyed, and I use it to my advantage. I look between them and can see what he’s obviously doing here. He’s not here for his tutor session. He’s probably been eye-fucking her and undressing her in his head since before I arrived. I can’t blame him.

I tilt my lips up and stare into her blue eyes, filled with genuine sincerity and shrug casually. “Sex injury. No big deal.”

Her lips part as a soft gasp releases, her eyes narrowing as if she’s ready to pounce me and claw at my throat like a vicious animal. Just the reaction I was hoping for.

“Uh, I’m going to get going, Viola. I’ll see you next week.” Her little fun toy grabs his things and this time she doesn’t stop him.

She crosses her arms and keeps her eyes locked on mine long after the front door clicks. We’re alone again, which has already proven to not be a good thing.

“You aren’t blinking,” I say, furrowing my brows.

She finally moves, collecting her books and storming off.

“Okay, then!” I yell as she stomps down the hallway. “Good talk.”

I shake my head and decide to shut the TV off and jump in the shower instead. I need a release after dealing with her.

––––––––

VIOLA

I hear the bathroom door shut, and the shower starts moments later. This is my chance to get the asshole back.

I wait a few minutes and plan my revenge. After grabbing a few large garbage bags, I head to his room and clean out the couple of drawers he has filled. Then I head to his closet and stuff all his expensive suits and shirts in another bag. I grab everything from his boxer shorts to his bed sheets.

If that motherfucker wants to take my towel and clothes to humiliate me, he’s going to have to walk out of the damn house to get his back.

A devilish smile breaks across my face and soon the adrenaline takes over my body. I head to the linen closet and grab all the towels and put them in another bag. I know I’m running out of time, so I quickly collect all the bags and drag them to the door. Before I walk out, I run back in, lock Drew’s bedroom door, and tiptoe into the bathroom. I collect his towel and clothes off the floor, leaving him with absolutely nothing. Then just for fun, I flush the toilet and dash out of the door as fast as I can, hearing him scream at me in the distance.

Take that, asshole.

I rush for the door, grab the three bags, and run out of the house. I open the trunk to my car and stuff them all inside.

If he wants them, he’s going to have to come get them—naked.

“Viola!” I hear him yell from the bathroom shortly after I walk back inside the house. “Goddammit, Viola.”

I bite my lip to keep the satisfied smile from forming. “What?” I yell from the other side of the bathroom door.

“You know what,” he hisses.

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t think I’ll walk out there naked?” He pulls open the door and peeks out. “Because I will.”

“Do what you gotta do.” I shrug as if it’s no big deal to see Travis’ naked behind. “But that’ll be another violation of the house rules,” I say matter-of-factly, knowing damn well they don’t mean a thing to him anyway.

He rolls his eyes and opens the door up all the way, exposing his wet muscled-and-tattooed self. Fuck. I didn’t think this all the way through. “Real mature, V.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I keep my eyes down, resisting the urge to look at him again.

He mutters a few curse words before walking around me and going down the hall to his bedroom.

Oh, Travis. The fun has just only begun.

No one said this was about maturity. This was about winning. Travis King needs his ego taken down a few notches.

I lean against the wall, waiting for the moment he realizes what I’ve done. If he doesn’t notice his sheets missing right away, he’ll notice once he goes to put his shorts on.

I wait and wait and wonder what the hell he’s doing in there. Finally, I hear the door opening and footsteps coming my way. I slowly look up, preparing for the death stare, but instead he looks completely indifferent. I blink, thinking I must be imagining things, but then I look down and gasp.

Oh my God.

I swallow, unable to take my eyes off him, his sleeve of tattoos that merge into his chest, water still dripping down his body all the way down to his cock, that’s saluting to the ceiling. Why the hell is he hard?

My mind races as I try and blink away, but I can’t. My feet are cemented in place and all the air is sucked out of me.

“I’m starting to think you have a thing for me.” He smirks, obviously proud of himself. “If you wanted to get me naked, all you had to do was ask.” He flashes me a wink, the corner of his lips tilted up in amusement, and continues walking past me into the living room.

It takes me a few moments to collect myself. How the hell did that not work? Why is this man so complicated? Fuck. I need to step up my game. But nothing phases that jackass. He has a perfect body and knows it, so of course he doesn’t mind flaunting it. But sooner or later, he’s going to need his sheets and clothes.

I walk to the kitchen, making sure to avoid him. I dig around in the fridge, letting the cool air hit my heated cheeks. My entire body is on fire and only an ice bath would cool it down at this point.

Images of his hard cock haunt my mind even when I try and push them out. I assumed Travis was big, but seeing it in all its glory, thick and stretched, has my body tingling in areas I wish I could control.

After several minutes of trying to cool my body down, I decide to make some toast so I grab the container of butter and a bottle of orange juice. Maybe I just need some sugar to get my brain working again.

With the items in my hands, I use my elbow to shut the door. Before I realize what’s happening, Travis traps me between his hard chest and the fridge door.

“What the hell?” I gasp, dropping both items to my feet. I feel his cock press into the low dip of my back, his firm arms caging me in.

“What’s the matter?”

I swallow.

“I think you need a lesson on boundaries,” I manage to say, my palms pressed against the fridge door.

He dips his head, brushing his stubble along my neck. I shiver, pissed that he’s getting a reaction out of me. His mouth is dangerously close to my ear as he whispers, “If it’s anything like your tutoring lessons, I won’t get my hopes up.” I feel a hand slide up my arm and brush along my collarbone before wrapping his palm around my neck, tilting my head up. It’s oddly soothing, and for a second, I forget Travis is the one holding me captive.

“I wouldn’t be opposed to teaching you a thing or two,” he growls against my ear again. His voice is low and deep as he taunts me, pushing every button he can.

“Get your naked body off me,” I say with gritted teeth.

“Never heard that one before.” He rocks his hips, pushing harder against me. My eyes flutter closed on their own accord as a moan releases without permission. His hand slides down my chest and palms my breast, making me release another throaty moan. His other hand squeezes my hip, melding our bodies against one another, and my head falls back as I feel his hot breath on my blazing skin.

“So tell me again who’s in control around here? Because I’m pretty sure I just about made you come.”

My skin pricks at the words that come out of his mouth. “Screw you, Travis.”

“Sorry, princess. I don’t fuck virgins.” He clamps his teeth over my earlobe and nips it. “But if you ever want a lesson in sucking dick, I’d be glad to teach you. I’d even waive the tutoring fee.”

My body tenses at his condescending tone. My mind finally clears and I snap out of his spell. I turn my body just enough to dig my elbow hard into his ribs. He stumbles back with a curse, giving me the opportunity to walk away and out of the kitchen.

I’m pissed at the way he’s always pushing my boundaries and trying to get a reaction out of me, but I’m even more pissed at myself for falling into his stupid trap. My traitorous body took the bait and now I’m the one who got burned.