Seeing Red

BEFORE WE REACHED THE BAR, AMERICA PULLED HER best friend to the dance floor. Abby’s hot pink stilettos glowed in the black light, and I smiled when she laughed at America’s wild dance moves. My eyes traveled down her black dress, stopping on her hips. She had moves, I’d give her that. A sexual thought popped into my mind, and I had to look away.

The Red Door was fairly crowded. Some new faces, but mostly regulars. Anyone new walking in was like fresh meat to those of us who didn’t have the imagination for anything but showing up at the bar every weekend. Especially girls that looked like Abby and America.

I ordered a beer, chugged half of it, and then turned my attention back to the dance floor. Staring wasn’t voluntary, especially knowing I probably had the same expression on my face as every schmuck watching them.

The song ended, and Abby pulled America back to the bar. They were panting, smiling, and just sweaty enough to be sexy.

“It’s going to be like this all night, Mare. Just ignore them,” Shepley said.

America’s face was screwed in disgust, staring behind me. I could only imagine who was back there.

Couldn’t have been Megan. She wasn’t one to wait in the wings.

“It looks like Vegas threw up on a flock of vultures,” America sneered.

I glanced over my shoulder, and three of Lexi’s sorority sisters were standing shoulder to shoulder.

Another of them stood next to me with a bright smile. They all grinned when I made eye contact, but I quickly turned around, chugging the last half of my beer. For whatever reason, girls that acted that way around me made America pretty cranky. I couldn’t disagree with her vulture reference, though.

I lit a cigarette, and then ordered two more beers. The blonde next to me, Brooke, smiled and bit her lip. I paused, unsure if she was going to cry or hug me. It wasn’t until Cami popped the tops and slid the bottles over that I knew why Brooke had that ridiculous look on her face. She picked up the beer and started to take a sip, but I grabbed it from her before she could, and handed it to Abby.

“Uh . . . not yours.”

Brooke stomped off to join her friends. Abby, however, seemed perfectly content, taking man-size gulps.

“Like I would buy a beer for some chick at a bar,” I said. I thought it would add to Abby’s amusement, but instead she held up her beer with a sour look on her face.

“You’re different,” I said with a half smile.

She clinked her bottle against mine, clearly irritated. “To being the only girl a guy with no standards doesn’t want to sleep with.” She took a swig, but I pulled the bottle from her mouth.

“Are you serious?” When she didn’t respond, I leaned in closer for full effect. “First of all . . . I have standards. I’ve never been with an ugly woman. Ever. Second of all, I wanted to sleep with you. I thought about throwing you over my couch fifty different ways, but I haven’t because I don’t see you that way anymore. It’s not that I’m not attracted to you, I just think you’re better than that.”

A smug smile crept across her face. “You think I’m too good for you.”

Unbelievable. She really didn’t get it. “I can’t think of a single guy I know that’s good enough for you.”

The smugness melted away, replaced with a touched, appreciative smile. “Thanks, Trav,” she said, setting her empty bottle on the bar. She could really put them back when she wanted to. Normally I would call that sloppy, but she carried herself with such confidence . . . I don’t know . . . anything she did was hot.

I stood and grabbed her hand. “C’mon.” I pulled her to the dance floor, and she followed behind me.

“I’ve had a lot to drink! I’m going to fall!”

Now on the dance floor, I grabbed her hips and pulled her body tight against mine, leaving no room between us. “Shut up and dance.”

All the giggles and smiles left her face, and her body began to move against mine to the music. I couldn’t keep my hands off of her. The closer we were, the closer I needed her to be. Her hair was in my face, and even though I’d drunk enough to call it a night, all of my senses were alert. The way her ass felt against me, the different directions and motions her hips made to the music, the way she leaned back against my chest and rested the back of her head on my shoulder. I wanted to pull her to some dark corner and taste the inside of her mouth.

Abby turned to face me with a mischievous smile. Her hands began at my shoulders, and then she let her fingers run down my chest and stomach. I nearly went insane, wanting her right then and there. She turned her back to me, and my heart beat even faster against my rib cage. She was closer that way. I gripped her hips and pulled her tighter into me.

I wrapped my arms around her waist and buried my face in her hair. It was saturated with sweat, and combined with her perfume. Any rational thought disappeared. The song was ending, but she showed no signs of stopping.

Abby leaned back, her head against my shoulder. Some of her hair fell away, exposing the glistening skin of her neck. All willpower vanished. I touched my lips to the delicate spot just behind her ear. I couldn’t stop there, opening my mouth to let my tongue lick the salty moisture from her skin.

Abby’s body tensed, and she pulled away.

“What, Pidge?” I asked. I had to chuckle. She looked like she wanted to hit me. I thought we were having a good time, and she was angrier than I’d ever seen her.

Instead of letting her temper fly, she pushed through the crowd, retreating to the bar. I followed, knowing I would find out soon enough what exactly I had done wrong.

Taking the empty stool beside her, I watched as Abby signaled to Cami that she wanted another beer. I ordered one for myself, and then watched her chug half of hers. The bottle clanged against the counter when she slammed it down.

“You think that is going to change anyone’s mind about us?”

I laughed once. After all that bumping and grinding against my dick, she was suddenly worried about appearances? “I don’t give a damn what they think about us.”

She shot me a dirty look, and then turned to face forward.

“Pigeon,” I said, touching her arm.

She jerked away. “Don’t. I could never get drunk enough to let you get me on that couch.”

Instant rage consumed me. I had never treated her like that. Never. She led me on, and then I gave her one or two little kisses on the neck, and she freaks out?

I started to speak, but Megan appeared next to me.

“Well. If it isn’t Travis Maddox.”

“Hey, Megan.”

Abby eyed Megan, clearly taken off guard. Megan was an old pro at tipping the scales in her favor.

“Introduce me to your girlfriend,” Megan said, smiling.

She knew damn good and well Abby wasn’t my girlfriend. Ho 101: If the man in your sights is on a date or with a female friend, force him to admit to lack of commitment. Creates insecurity and instability.

I knew where this was going. Hell, if Abby really thought I was a criminal-grade douche bag, I might as well act like one. I slid my beer down the bar, and it fell off the edge, clinking into the full trash can at the end. “She’s not my girlfriend.”

Purposefully ignoring Abby’s reaction, I grabbed Megan’s hand and led her to the dance floor. She complied, happily swinging our arms until our feet hit the wood. Megan was always entertaining to dance with. She had no shame and let me do anything to her that I wanted, on and off the dance floor. As usual, most of the other dancers stopped to watch.

We usually made a spectacle, but I was feeling exceptionally lewd. Megan’s dark hair slapped me in the face more than once, but I was numb. I picked her up and she wrapped her legs around my waist, and then bent back, stretching her arms over her head. She smiled as I pumped her in front of the entire bar, and when I set her on her feet, she turned and bent over, grabbing her ankles.

Sweat poured down my face. Megan’s skin was so wet, my hands slipped away every time I tried to touch her. Her shirt was soaked, and so was mine. She leaned in for a kiss, her mouth slightly open, but I leaned back, looking toward the bar.

That was when I saw him. Ethan Coats. Abby was leaned in toward him, smiling with that drunken, flirty, take-me-home smile I could spot in a crowd of a thousand women.

Leaving Megan on the dance floor, I pushed through the mass that had gathered around us. Just before I reached Abby, Ethan reached over to touch her knee. Remembering what he’d gotten away with the year before, I balled my hand into a fist, standing between them, with my back to Ethan.

“You ready, Pidge?”

Abby put her hand on my stomach and pushed me to the side, smiling the instant Ethan came back into view. “I’m talking, Travis.” She held her hand out, feeling how wet it was, and then wiped it on her skirt in dramatic fashion.

“Do you even know this guy?”

She smiled even wider. “This is Ethan.”

Ethan extended his hand. “Nice to meet you. “I couldn’t take my eyes off of Abby while she stared at that sick and twisted fuck across from her. I left Ethan’s hand hanging, waiting for Abby to remember I was standing there.

Dismissive, she waved her hand in my direction. “Ethan, this is Travis.” Her voice was decidedly less enthusiastic about my introduction, which just pissed me off more.

I glared down at Ethan, and then at his hand. “Travis Maddox.” My voice was as low and menacing as

I could manage.

Ethan’s eyes grew wide, and he awkwardly pulled back his hand. “Travis Maddox?”

I stretched my arm behind Abby to grip the bar. “Yeah, what of it?”

“I saw you fight Shawn Smith last year, man. I thought I was about to witness someone’s death!”

My eyes narrowed, and my teeth clenched. “You wanna see it again?”

Ethan laughed once, his eyes darting back and forth between us. When he realized I wasn’t kidding, he smiled awkwardly at Abby, and then walked away.

“Are you ready, now?” I snapped.

“You are a complete asshole, you know that?”

“I’ve been called worse.” I held out my hand and she took it, letting me help her from the stool. She couldn’t have been that pissed.

With a loud whistle, I signaled Shepley, who saw my expression and immediately knew that it was time to leave. I used my shoulder to cut through the crowd, shamelessly knocking over a few innocent bystanders to let off steam until Shepley headed us off and took over for me.

Once outside, I took Abby’s hand, but she jerked it away.

I wheeled around and yelled in her face. “I should just kiss you and get it over with! You’re being ridiculous! I kissed your neck, so what?”

Abby leaned back, and when that didn’t create enough space, she pushed me away. No matter how pissed I was, she knew no fear. It was kinda hot.

“I’m not your fuck buddy, Travis.”

I shook my head, stunned. If there was anything else I could do to keep her from thinking that, I didn’t know what it was. She was special to me from the second I laid eyes on her, and I tried to let her know it every chance I got. How else could I get that across to her? How much different from everyone else could I treat her? “I never said you were! You’re around me 24-7, you sleep in my bed, but half the time you act like you don’t wanna be seen with me!”

“I came here with you!”

“I have never treated you with anything but respect, Pidge.”

“No, you just treat me like your property. You had no right to run Ethan off like that!”

“Do you know who Ethan is?” When she shook her head, I leaned in. “I do. He was arrested last year for sexual battery, but the charges were dropped.”

She crossed her arms. “Oh, so you have something in common?”

A red veil covered my eyes, and for less than a second, the rage inside me boiled over. I took a deep breath, willing it away. “Are you calling me a rapist?”

Abby paused in thought, and her hesitation made the anger melt away. She was the only one that had that effect on me. Every other time I’d been that angry, I had punched something or someone. I had never hit a woman, but I would have definitely taken a swing at the truck parked next to us.

“No, I’m just pissed at you!” she said, pressing her lips together.

“I’ve been drinking, all right? Your skin was three inches from my face, and you’re beautiful, and you smell fucking awesome when you sweat. I kissed you! I’m sorry! Get over yourself!”

My answer made her pause, and the corners of her mouth turned up. “You think I’m beautiful?”

I frowned. What a stupid question. “You’re gorgeous and you know it. What are you smiling about?”

The harder she tried not to smile, the more she did. “Nothing. Let’s go.”

I laughed once, and then shook my head. “Wha . . . ? You . . . ? You’re a pain in my ass!”

She was grinning from ear to ear from my compliment, and the fact that I had gone from psycho to ridiculous in less than five minutes. She tried to stop smiling, and, in turn, that made me smile.

I hooked my arm around her neck, wishing to God I had just kissed her. “You’re making me crazy. You know that, right?”

The ride home was quiet, and when we finally arrived at the apartment, Abby went straight to the bathroom, turning on the shower. My mind was too fuzzy to rifle through her shit, so I grabbed a pair of my boxers and a T-shirt. I knocked on the door, but she didn’t answer, so I went ahead and walked in, laid it on the sink, and then left. I wasn’t sure what to say to her anyway.

She walked in, swallowed by my clothes, and fell into bed, a residual smile still on her face.

I watched her for a moment, and she stared back, clearly wondering what I was thinking. The trouble was, even I didn’t know. Her eyes slowly traveled down my face to my lips, and then I knew.

“Night, Pidge,” I whispered, turning over, cussing at myself like never before. She was incredibly drunk, though, and I wasn’t going to take advantage. Especially not after she’d forgiven me for the spectacle I’d made with Megan.

Abby fidgeted for several minutes before finally taking a breath. “Trav?” She leaned up on her elbow.

“Yeah?” I said, not moving. I was afraid if I looked into her eyes, all rational thought would go out the window.

“I know I’m drunk, and we just got into a ginormous fight over this, but . . .”

“I’m not having sex with you, so quit asking.”

“What? No!”

I laughed and turned, looking at her sweet, horrified expression. “What, Pigeon?”

“This,” she said, laying her head on my chest and stretching her arm across my stomach, hugging me close.

Not what I was expecting. At all. I held up my hand and froze in place, unsure what the hell to do. “You are drunk.”

“I know,” she said, shameless.

No matter how pissed she would be in the morning, I couldn’t say no. I relaxed one hand against her back, and the other on her wet hair, and then kissed her forehead. “You are the most confusing woman I’ve ever met.”

“It’s the least you can do after scaring off the only guy that approached me tonight.”

“You mean Ethan the rapist? Yeah, I owe you for that one.”

“Never mind,” she said, beginning to pull away.

My reaction was instantaneous. I held her arm against my stomach. “No, I’m serious. You need to be more careful. If I wasn’t there . . . I don’t even want to think about it. And now you expect me to apologize for running him off?”

“I don’t want you to apologize. It’s not even about that.”

“Then what’s it about?” I asked. I’d never begged for anything in my life, but I was silently begging for her to tell me she wanted me. That she cared about me. Something. We were so close. It would just take another inch or so for our lips to touch, and it was a mental feat not to give in to that inch.

She frowned. “I’m drunk, Travis. It’s the only excuse I have.”

“You just want me to hold you until you fall asleep?”

She didn’t answer.

I turned, looking straight into her eyes. “I should say no to prove a point,” I said, my eyebrows pulling together. “But I would hate myself later if I said no and you never asked me again.”

She happily nestled her cheek against my chest. With my arms wrapped around her tight, it was hard to keep it together. “You don’t need an excuse, Pigeon. All you have to do is ask.”