The Outlaw

20

TWENTY

"You're in a good mood." Turning my head, I saw Milo eyeing me, his brows raised with unduly curiosity.

Standing beside me, he flipped a cocktail shaker in his hands without a hitch, the fluid movement flexing his biceps. Gorgeous, with golden eyes, wayward hair the colour of a worn penny, and generously muscular, I was certain Milo must have had women tripping all over their feet, trying their hand at catching his attention.

He caught me staring. "Enjoying the show?"

I snorted. Grabbing a five spot tip off the bar, I rapped my knuckles in gratitude to the customer in front of me. "Of you icking me out? Not particularly."

"You see that?" Milo asked the cute blonde in his vicinity, her eyes bright on him. "She's trying hard to ignore all this"—he swept a gesturing hand to himself—"raw sexual magnetism to make herself feel better."

I stifled a laugh. Milo was shameless in his flirting but it worked for him. "Raw sexual magnetism? Is that what you're calling it?"

He swatted my ass with a dishrag that usually lounged on his shoulder. "Quit changing the subject. What's going on with you?"

I lifted a shoulder in an innocent shrug. "I don't know what you're talking about."

He crossed his arms. "Bullshit. Last week, you were so miserable I couldn't even get out a word out of you—"

"I wasn't miserable," I tossed back, giving him the side-eye.

"—and today you look like you've smoked a fat joint." Milo finished, as if I hadn't said anything.

I shot him a narrowed look. Maybe I was in a good mood compared to last week, but given the change in events, I was entitled to be—all things considered.

He raked me with a studious glance. "You and Travis get back together?"

I debated the wisdom of reminding Milo that we were never really together to begin with. Although now that I've had time to think about it, maybe it was just me who couldn't see what everyone else saw.

Travis and I belonged together. I believed that now more than I ever did before. I imagined a future in which I wasn't ruled by my primitive instincts. And this time, I was willing to fight for it.

"Okay, so maybe Travis and I are giving it a shot." I confessed. "For real, this time."

His eyes widened. "No shit?"

"No shit."

A stretch of silence followed. And then he said, "Well, if anyone were to hook you, Maddie, it'd definitely be Travis."

I shook my head at his sentimental words, to myself more so. Milo must have had it the wrong way round. If anything, I was surprised I'd landed Travis. He had an array of possibilities and choices, his fair share of women where he wouldn't need to deal with the extra baggage.

But he picked me. And I wanted more than anything to prove that he made the right choice. For my sake, as well as his.

My thoughts went unvoiced, but as if he knew I'd disagree, Milo explained, "You exude an aura that's seemingly unattainable, Maddie. Which is fucking hot, by the way."

My mouth quirked. If only he knew.

"And Travis—he's smart," Milo went on. "He acts like he's the shit. Smug in the knowledge that every women finds him absurdly attractive. He knows the game and plays it well. But he's not stupid enough to let the one get away when he sees her. And who wouldn't want to get serious with you?"

I flushed sheepishly. "Thanks for the vote of confidence."

Swiping the dishrag off of his hands, I wiped down the counter. "But you know, it wasn't all sunshine and flowers—it didn't quite happen like that. And now that we're seeing where things go, it won't be any easier. I'm a lot to handle," I admitted out loud, shrugging self-consciously. "And Travis... Well, never having a girlfriend just speaks for itself."

"You're wondering when the reality of a long-term relationship becomes too much before he runs away screaming," Milo stated, in a rather disturbing philosophy.

I stopped and turned to face him, nervously wringing the cloth between my hands. My nose wrinkled. "Yeah. Something like that."

Despite his actions over the past few months had shown me that he was accessible, a small part of me believed that for Travis, the novelty would eventually wear off. And he would come to realise that the effort was too high a price to pay for the sacrifice.

"I have to admit," Milo began, "when Scarlett first told me about you two, I thought Travis wanted the closeness of a girlfriend without actually having to commit to it—kinda like the best of both worlds. And no one can deny that he's territorial to a fault, so I saw the whole exclusive thing coming from a mile away."

He wasn't altogether wrong. When I'd propositioned Travis, he readily agreed without persuasion. For both of us, the arrangement was an outlet—our bodies a welcoming distraction from the shadows we carried within us, searching for a moment of inner peace. Later we would come to terms with the sharp clarity that we found each other, instead.

"That was until I saw the way he looked at you."

My stomach fluttered a little. "How?"

"Like even though he's a cocky son of a bitch, he still can't quite believe that he's lucky enough to go home with you."

I blinked at him through glittering eyes.

His mouth curved knowingly. "If Travis is anything like I expect he is, then he's probably wondering what else he possibly has to offer other than his looks."

His accurate perception forced me to take a minute to put things into perspective. Milo had no understanding of how literal that statement was. Travis had trouble with his appearance to the extent where he dismissed his appeal because he looked so much like his father—a man he desperately tried not to have an ounce of resemblance with. What did looks matter if there was nothing of real substance in between? After all, he'd witnessed his parents marriage disintegrate for that very reason.

But it weighed on him so much less than the terrifying reality that he might have been exactly like his father. Which was part of the reason why he never let anyone close enough to look beyond the superficial aspects of him—expect for me. Therefore I was unique to him in every way possible—more valuable than any other women that had passed through his life. I wished that was enough to squash my doubts.

"That's true in reverse," I protested.

"He couldn't fake what he feels for you even if he tried." Milo wrapped an arm around my shoulder. "Stop thinking Travis has a hidden agenda. He wants you. You want him. It's as simple as that. Enjoy it."

Although his analogy was slightly obtuse, Milo was right. I needed to shut that voice in my head and let things ride out.

"Thanks, Milo." I leaned into him. "You're the best."

He bumped his hip into mine. "Damn straight. I won't let you forget it."

I laughed. "You might just be my favourite twin. Don't tell Scarlett."

He dropped his charming signature wink. "Your secrets safe with me, Maddie."

*

It was truly incredible how one little thing profoundly changed the trajectory of my entire life. I found myself walking into the college cafeteria with a new-found confidence. I'd never imagined that being in a monogamous relationship could alter a person's perception of themselves.

I dismissed the debatable rumours that spun on the rumour mill—their words sliding right off of me. My dating life was out in the open to be dissected, and what I'd once valued as privacy, I was surprisingly indifferent to the gossip.

I could give a damn about what they had to say. Only we knew the truth.
Nothing else mattered.

The sentiment had me picking up my pace, reflected in the eagerness and excitement I felt to see Travis. He'd offered to drive me to and from work but I'd declined because I couldn't trust myself with him around, and at chance a bed nearby.

While I was about to reach the hallway, my footsteps faltered as my gaze landed on a familiar dark head. The sight of him overwhelmed me. As always, almost every nerve endings brimmed to life—to the point where the need was so desperate, so painfully present, I resisted the urge to run into him. Just the anticipation of the feel of his arms was enough to keep my heart racing. I had to give myself a second to balance my equilibrium.

But then everything came to a screeching halt when my eyes cut to the statuesque blonde next to him.

Emily Hawthorne.

The picture they created: Travis, the epitome of tall, dark and rugged, with silky hair as black as night, his eyes a dangerously fierce green. And Emily, with long blonde hair that cascaded down her back in lustrous waves, eyes a pair of baby blues, and voluptuous curves—her softness complemented him in more ways than one. There, with her mile long legs, her hip cocked provocatively, they made a striking contrast standing together—a perfect couple, both as savagely beautiful as the other.

It brought a sharp stab of jealousy, an instinctual pain I felt so keenly, my stomach churned.

From this vantage point, by the look on Emily's face, alight with amusement, there was no mistaking she was still burning a candle for Travis. He was in profile so I couldn't see the expression on his face but his posture was rigid. Distancing himself as best as he could.

That only made Emily rise to the challenge. When she went to run her fingers down his arm suggestively, I watched Travis step back just before she could accomplish her goal.

As if he'd sensed me standing there, Travis' head turned. His deep scowl didn't less any but his eyes—an emerald so vibrant it struck me even across the distance between us—betrayed an intense deep-sated attraction.

My chest rose and fell with a quick intake of breath. I was reminded of the first moment I met him. Distance had separated us then, too, as he'd stood before me, his powerful muscular body radiating unmistakable sexual prowess. That was it for me, I learned, he'd wrecked me from the very beginning—and there was no coming back from that.

I saw his mouth form my name just as he was about to stride toward me with purpose.

Emily caught my gaze over his shoulder, throwing me a carelessly affected look of reproof. And then she gripped his elbow, bringing his attention back to her.

Closing my eyes, I stopped worrying. Somewhere in the back of my mind, there was a voice cautioning me to guard myself against a heartbreak I couldn't survive. For once, I ignored it. No guy would ever look at someone the way Travis looked at me if his feelings never ran deep. The promise was there in his eyes.

Walking straight past them, I left him to deal with it. His sexual conquests were crawling out of the woodworks now that he was taken—deeming me unworthy of his time. Emily was just one of many.

"Maddie. Wait." I heard the deep, baritone sound of Travis' voice call out.

I pivoted around to see him listening to Emily with a thinning virtue of patience. I wasn't sure what they were talking about. He looked conflicted, as if he was torn between his chivalry and his obvious disinterest. I casually thumbed behind me, signalling that I was heading into the cafeteria, and then turned away.

Few moments later, a hand settled onto my shoulder. I slowed my stride and found Scarlett rounding me on delicate heels.

"Whoa. Aren't you going to do anything about that?" She asked, and twisted her head, observing Travis and Emily.

I didn't say anything.

"Look at her—trying to eat off your plate. You think Travis would let that fly if the roles were reversed?" She muttered. "If I were you, I'd go up to her and yank her by the hair."

That startled a laugh out of me. Scarlett was so dramatic. "I'm not in high school anymore, Scar. My days of catty fighting over a boy are well and truly over."

She tossed her head, flicking her impressive mane of curls over her shoulder. "As if Emily stands an equal chance. He's too damned busy looking at you like you're the only person in the room."

A silly warmth slid through me, oddly like champagne.

Scarlett linked her arm through mine, redirecting her attention to me. Once she caught the expression on my face, she laughed. "Oh, my God! You're blushing. Ugh, you two are so disgustingly cute, I want to puke."

I rolled my eyes, thinking of her and Oliver. "Now you know how I feel."

She wrinkled her nose at me.

When we reached our table, we sat down and caught the end of a mutual friend of Travis' regaling his weekend activities. "So even after I told her I was only expecting a hump-and-dump, she lingered all morning and refused to leave. Fuck, I thought I had to call the cops to drag her out!"

Scarlett and I shared a less than an amused glance.

A Sigma Pi frat brother decided to generously share his pearls of wisdom. "That's why you should never bring a girl to your home turf. Make sure you have an escape route—if you go back to hers, there's nothing easier than splitting before dawn."

Scarlett pelted him with wadded-up napkins. "That's such a dick move."

A chorus of laughter rang across the table, bringing an unconscious smile to my face.

"Don't run away from me again."

The roughness underlying Travis' voice sent goose bumps prickling across my skin.

My smile slowly faded.

Bent at the torso, Travis set both of his arms on either side of me, his breath gusting softly over the column of my neck.

I twisted as best as I could in the cage of his arms and faced him, paying particular attention to the faint bruises that were on the tail-end of clearing up. It took me a long minute to note the hint of amusement on his face.

"You were busy," I shot back, arching an eyebrow which told him I caught the double meaning in his words.

Travis lifted his gaze above my head, and jerked his chin, spurring the catalyst of everyone to scoot down the table. Straightening, he slid into a seat at the end, dragging my chair closer to his.

His arms wrapped around me, and his lips, so firm and soft, pressed against my shoulder.

"I prefer to spend all my time with you," he murmured with a rasp in his voice that swept over me like smooth silk.

I paused, taking a moment to absorb that, along with the surge of pleasure that tingled down my spine. How could I possibly doubt what he felt for me when I heard it in his voice alone?

As if he sensed my lingering wariness, he sifted through my hair with reverent fingers. I took what I needed, savouring the familiar awareness of lust that moved through me at being pressed against him. Breathing deep, I inhaled the scent of his skin. He smelled so good, his body warm and yielding to my touch, I never wanted him to let go.

"Tell me that never bothered you." He said the words with an undeniable challenge, but he stared down at me as if he'd asked a question.

I sighed. "I knew you were a player when I met you, Trav. I'll get over it."

His hand came up and curved around my nape with slow deliberation. I was hyperaware of that touch. It was both domineering and tender at the same time—and it made me so hot. When he titled my head to meet his gaze, I was breathing too fast.

"Was that supposed to make me feel better?" His voice was even. Dangerously so.

"Don't make excuses for me!" I snapped. "You're allowed to talk to the opposite gender. There's nothing wrong with it if we trust each other." My frown deepened when he worked his jaw back and forth. "And since I'd say we do, I expect the same etiquette from you."

The desperate hope I'd harboured was gone. Travis felt obligated to bend over backwards to every facet of my feelings. I was entitled to what all girlfriends felt when it came to jealousy—but my insecurities ran deeper than that and Travis knew it.

For me, it would be a learning curve to understand how to deal with it. What I did not want was to stifle Travis with the burden. It would drive a person crazy, having to be extra careful in that way just so they could keep their relationship functioning properly.

How else did he expect me to feel other than fucking pathetic that he was weighted with guilt and worry if he so much as said one word to another woman?

Frustration tightened his mouth. "If some asshole came onto you in front of me, he'd be eating sidewalk."

There was no mistaking the danger inherent in the way he murmured the words.

Distantly, I heard Scarlett smugly mutter, "Ha! Called it." I ignored her.

Achingly aware of our surroundings, I glared at him, and tugged at his arm. His obstinate grip only made me angrier.

"That's not what I'm talking about, Travis." I argued. "Don't you see? If one of us dictates what the other can do, it'll push us further apart—"

Travis growled, cutting me off. "I'm not trying to micromanage you, Maddie. You can do whatever you want. I'll be right there with you if someone else crosses a line."

A myriad of emotions held my reply for half a second. "You and I both know that's not exactly healthy, Travis. We need a life outside the two of us to make this work."

His hand tightened fractionally, his nostrils flaring on a deep breath. When his eyes closed, I knew he was picturing it. Picturing me with someone else. Just like I had with him and Emily.

I hated it. Hated that we were at an impasse—I wasn't entirely comfortable with the thought of holding Travis back, while he thought there was no reason for customaries.

We were equally vulnerable in that aspect—both irrefutably possessive of each other. One day soon, we would learn to accept it.

Not wanting to upset him up even more, I cautiously lightened my tone. "Travis—"

Something in my voice gave me away. His eyes opened again, the vivid green of his irises deceptively blank. "We'll talk about this later."

Proclaiming the subject exhausted, his arms fell away. My anger simmered. I missed his touch almost immediately.

Letting out a shaky breath, I took a sweeping glance at the half a dozen pair of eyes watching us wordlessly. My cheeks flushed in embarrassment.

That was until Scarlett commented, "Jesus Christ. That was better than any of those Twilight movies combined."

Laughter broke the tension-fraught silence. I shook my head at Scarlett, who shot me a satisfied grin.

A moment later, Oliver ambled to the table. Slapping his tray down, he parked his butt on a seat before lifting Scarlett effortlessly and placing her on his lap. As many times before, their natural exuberance took over as they arranged themselves into a familiar position.

"On behalf of all red-blooded men, Travis," Oliver drawled, piquing his interest, "my apologies go out to you, man. Finally get a girlfriend—and then bam, cut off from the fuck-awesome benefits. No pun intended, of course." He winked.

Travis spared me a quick glance, the corner of his mouth tilting in a wry smile. I shot a look at Scarlett instead, who at least had the decency to act guilty. She shared entirely too much with her boyfriend. 

Then I turned to Oliver. "If you don't shut up," I told him, narrowing my gaze in warning, "I'm going to stab this fork in your eye."

Oliver smirked. "I'd ask what's gotten you so feisty, but you're not getting any so that answers it."

"Ollie!" Scarlett admonished, her hand whipping out to smack his shoulder. But still couldn't help herself from dissolving into a fit of giggles.

My mouth turned up deviously. "I'm pretty sure I can rectify that problem myself."

Oliver's rich laughter turned every head within hearing distance. His gaze flicked to Travis. "Dude, how bad do you have blue balls right now?"

"Shut up, Oliver." I repeated. I was really debating that threat. Even gripped said fork in my hand.

"Maybe I should kick you in the nuts," Travis interjected, his voice deep and even. "And then we can compare to find out."

Oliver sobered, wisely saying nothing. Scarlet giggled with girlish delight, whispering in his ear—something I probably didn't want to hear anyway.

I glanced at Travis, instead, and caught him already staring at me. His gaze caressed my features with a soft look that conveyed so much desire and longing. I saw it on his face—the support and understanding of my decision to start our relationship platonically. It meant a lot to me.

I put my hand on his thigh beneath the table and gave it a soft squeeze. Smiled inwardly when I felt the muscle twitch under my touch.

When his fingertips drifted over my cheek, I let the smile show. I was grateful that he was dealing with the inconvenience, because he was doing so for my sake.

Thank you, I mouthed.

His lips curved widely in an unrestrained manner. A rare, indulgent smile that knocked the wind out of me.

I knew then that the lingering uneasiness from earlier bled away. He didn't say it aloud but I got the message: We had each other. That was all that mattered.

He whispered the words he'd promised before, fervently and fiercely. "Anything, and only for you, Maddie."

*

With only three punches into the third round, followed by a devastating knockout, Travis "The Outlaw" Ortiz not only won the third leg of the tournament, but scored his shot at competing in the final.

There was no other sound in the room, everyone waiting in anticipated silence as the numbers were counted down.

The moment his hand was lifted, pandemonium ensued around me. Somewhere lost in the rapt audience, camera flashes burst into a rapid-fire, blinding succession. A mighty roar of cheering exploded to a degree of volume that was almost deafening.

My gaze travelled aimlessly, taking note of the reactions around me. Scarlett was squealing, unable to contain her excitement. Oliver's eyes widened, a bark of incredulous laughter escaping his mouth. Milo wolf-whistled at an extremely high pitch, and Travis' close friend, Chad cupped his hands around his mouth and hollered. Jaxon, Travis' brother—a man of few words and emotions—even joined in the celebration with thunderous claps.

Then I spotted Benny nearer to the back, maintaining his distance. He watched Travis with what one could only describe as pride. But he seemed oddly resigned, too. Totally adrift and alone. I was among the few who knew the reason as to why he was terribly detached from his family. And understood the vivid clarity of regret that shone on his face.

So engrossed with the support system that Travis had, I barely registered Scarlett's attempt to divert my attention to Travis.

With an impatient hand to my back, she pushed me forward. "Go, Maddie!"

Turning my head, I found Travis easily. His egress was swift as usual, and expected. It wasn't his style to bask in his victory. I was making my way through the crowd to get to him before I knew it, the immense feeling of pride unfurling in my chest, drawing me to him in quick, long strides.

I caught him desperately pushing his way to me, ignoring the number of people who made a grab for him. My heart felt like it was unbearably squeezed inside my chest.

A sharp, carefree laugh escaped my mouth and startled me as I launched into his arms. My legs clung onto his waist, my arms twining around his neck. When he got shoved from behind, he cursed under his breath, and with me firmly suspended in his arms, he slipped out of the crush.

"Maddie." He gripped me so tight it hurt but I couldn't complain.

Plastering my face against his, I whispered in his ear. "You're so close, Travis. Look around. Your dreams are coming true."

I felt him shake his head, his fingers flexing into my waist with near-painful pressure.

"This time next week," I reared, and touched his cheek with gentle fingertips. "You'll have won your first ever tournament."

Travis stared up at me, the barely lit room emphasising the salient green of his eyes. I knew that look, understood that he more often than not doubted himself. It made me want to try my hardest to reassure him for as long as he'd let me.

"You don't know that."

Returning his gaze unwaveringly, I tried to show him, with only a look, how much I believed in him. "Yes, I do."

His slow, easy smile kept my heart racing. The heat in his eyes blended with a warmth so intensely tender. Pleasure rushed through me. I loved that I could do that to him. Travis was so blatantly unruffled by others, his face giving nothing away—except when he surrendered to me.

He loosened his grip by a fraction so I could land onto my feet. When I lifted a hand to brush his sweat-slicked hair back, he caught my wrist instead, and pressed his lips to my palm. I saw the fire in his eyes.

He moved lightning quick, tugging me close and slanted his lips over mine. I gasped, startled by his sudden hunger. His tongue stroked deep with swift lashes that sent my mind reeling. I groaned, titling my head to keep up, my hands splaying on his bare chest, the ground shifting beneath my feet. I fell harder for him.

"We're leaving." Travis panted, unable to resist brushing his lips over mine, again and again. "And going straight to my apartment. Right now."

I laughed out loud, tracing his lower lip with my thumb. His display of unrestrained affection turned me on wildly. The subtle demand sounded more like a desperate plea, instead.

I almost gave in. But I wasn't ready yet. The next time I had him, I wanted there to be no pretence. Just the two of us—intimately open and real.

Cupping his jaw, I teased, "Maybe some other time."

The corner of his mouth titled in a rueful smile, but his eyes softened to a warm amusement.

When his chest expanded on a deep breath, I saw what staying away was costing him. I swallowed hard, any playfulness fleeing my features. "I know that space is not what you'd prefer, but I just think—"

"You don't have to explain yourself to me, Maddie." He interjected, his voice sure and even. "If you told me to wait a lifetime, I would. After all, I've had enough practice waiting for you all this time."

My pulse leaped, infinitely touched by his words. What did I ever do without him?

I tried to lighten the mood with a teasing reply. "Don't worry. I won't keep you waiting that long." My mouth curving wickedly, I squinted and then said, "Maybe."

The shadows left his face, chased away by his dark velvet laugh. We stood there amidst the chaos as if there was no one else around us. Somehow, we were the only two people in the room.

When Travis was hailed by the rest of the group, I managed to step aside in time, and only just missed being nearly run over by their onslaught.

Travis never let me get far, though, his hand reaching out to encircle my wrist, exerting gentle pressure. My gaze slid to him. He spared me a quick glance, his eyes exposing a brief moment of sharp vulnerability. Then it was gone.

He shifted his attention to Jaxon, and returned his brothers embrace in a backslapping ritual reserved for males. Still holding my hand.

"I'm so fucking stoked for the final," Scarlett bounced over, her curls swaying. "Don't forget us when you're a big-time fighting champion, Travis!"

Oliver and Milo reenacted the ending of fight—Oliver shadow-boxing the quick-fire punches that had been the catalyst of the knockout, Milo pretending to take the hits in a slow replay. We laughed at their expense.

"I'd wish you luck," Oliver dropped his arms, and smirked in that way of his. "But I think I'll save my breath to congratulate you instead once you get that tournament title under your belt next week."

"You got that right," Chad agreed, holding his fist out for Oliver to pound.

My smile widened at their heartfelt support, the excitement enveloping around us, and feeding into the atmosphere. I glimpsed at Travis and found him bristling with anxious energy.

My grip on his hand tightened. I knew he was struggling to comprehend that others believed in him, too. When his head turned to look at me, my gaze narrowed. His returning quick bite of smile told me he got the message.

As the small talk built to a crescendo, I took an assessing glance of my friends and was afforded with the revelation that I was happier than I'd been in a long time.

I thought about the week without Travis, then the months since I'd met him. And then beyond that. Before I'd moved to Indianapolis. Back to a time where I believed I was too broken to find someone who would accept me, flaws and all.

I never really considered myself as romantic—too jaded to give into that myth of soul mates and falling in love with Prince Charming.

But what if I never allowed to give myself to anyone because, like Travis had said, I was waiting for him? He saw me, saw everything I was, and not only didn't he turn away, he wanted me, too.

Travis thought he was lucky to have me, but now that he was mine, I knew I was the one who had lucked out big-time.

As if he sensed my thoughts as he so often could, Travis tucked me into him closer, his lips brushing over my temple. Something clicked into place, an ache inside me sighing with inexplicable surrender. A frisson of recognition resonated through me, slowly and surely, and then levelled out completely.

I was afraid of accepting reality because I feared the future, and what it could ultimately take from me. But there was no protecting against that. Sometimes it was better to take a leap of faith. Despite not knowing what waited on the other end, the trip might just be worth it.

And it was time to do just that. No more pretending. No more running.

"Travis?"

He rested his chin on the crown of my head. "Hmm?"

I took a calming, deep breath and went for it. "I love you."

A sharp intake of breath violently jerked his chest, hard enough to shake me, too. His hand began a slow slide from my hip to curve around my nape, tightening painfully into my skin. He held me immobile for long moments, his heart pounding uncontrollably.

Pinning my gaze onto the floor, I waited him out. I was grateful that everyone else was too preoccupied to notice, and mentally kicked myself for telling him somewhere he had no privacy.

Suddenly, he gripped my arms and turned me carefully. He stared at me, as if maybe he thought he heard me but could have been wrong.

"Say it again." His voice was rougher than usual. Strangled with painful emotion.

Smiling softly, I reached up and tangled my fingers into his hair. The look in his eyes was agonisingly raw, his irises darkening to a heat I hadn't known existed. Somehow it came easier this time. "I love you, Travis."

I gasped when he crushed me to him, his breath gusting harshly over my hair. "I love you, Maddie." He groaned as if the words physically hurt him. "I think I loved you the first moment I saw you. All these months. I know it every time I look at you."

I swayed into him, overwhelmed by his declaration. The intensity in the way he said them. He expressed it far better than I could have.

Twisting my head, I pressed a soft kiss against his collarbone, clinging onto him with everything I had. "I feel the same way."

His fingers flexed, and he let out a short, humourless laugh that vibrated his chest under my head. "God, I thought I'd have to sweat at least a couple of weeks to tell you."

Despite my watery eyes, I couldn't help the laugh that escaped. "Maybe I should have made you work for it."

He pulled back, and mimicked my earlier gesture, brushing the hair away from my temples. His eyes blazed with unwavering conviction. "Nothing I would have not done."

I smiled. Caught his hand and squeezed.

I was wrong, before. Now I was happier than ever.

-

it's not the end yet, I promise!

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