clicking noises scurried across the floor, and then transferred to the door. Toto sat on the recliner, waiting and watching from the window every day at this time. Once the key entered the lock, Toto would scramble from the chair to the door, waiting to celebrate Travis’s arrival.
Travis would drop me off after classes and then go to work for a few hours in the evenings. Travis’s last fight usually kept him comfortable for a while, but because of the fire at Hellerton, he didn’t get paid. My savings were depleted because of Mick’s antics the year before, and The Circle had been disbanded since the fire. Travis promised not to fight, anyway, but we had gone from living well, to living on student loans and part-time jobs. It wasn’t horrible, but it was an adjustment.
We both tutored in the evenings---I helped struggling students with algebra and calculus of varying difficulty; Travis tutored in everything else---but most of our bills were paid from the money he made writing papers. Illegal and risky jobs paid best, and old habits die hard.
Travis’s boots took three quick steps into the apartment, and then they retreated. A scuffling noise made the corners of my mouth turn up. The first snow of the season left two inches of muddy slush on the ground, and he knew I’d cleaned this morning so I wouldn’t have to do it after classes. He was wiping his boots.
“Baby! You home?”
“I’m home!” I lilted, pulling up my lashes with the mascara wand just so.
He knocked on the bathroom door.
“Don’t come in!”
He groaned. “I haven’t seen you all day!”
“You saw me three hours ago.”
After a short pause, Travis tapped on the door with his finger. “I see a gift out there. I’m guessing it’s for me?”
“No, it’s for Toto.”
“That’s not nice!”
I laughed. “Yes, Trav, it’s for you.”
“I have something for you, too, so hurry your ass up.”
“Perfection takes time.”
“If you saw yourself in the morning, you would know that’s not true.”
Fifteen minutes later, I was slipping the red baby doll dress that I’d borrowed from America over my head, and then walked into the living room where Travis stood. He was watching the television, remote in one hand, a bottle of beer in the other. My poker face was no match for the fact that he was wearing a tie. It was official: I had seen everything.
Travis caught a glance of me from the corner of his eye and then turned.
“Stunning. I am a lucky, lucky man,” he said, walking toward me until I was in his arms. His lips gently pressed against mine, and then they traveled across my cheek, past my ear, and then down my neck to my collarbone.
“You’re wearing a tie,” I said softly.
He pulled away and looked down. “Do I look like a jackhole?”
“No. You look …I’m considering suggesting we just stay in.”
He smiled, and proudly ran his hand down his tie. “That good, huh?” He grabbed my hand. “That sounds pretty fucking amazing, but we have reservations.
C’mon.”
He led me out by the hand, pausing at the door to help me with my coat.
February had been particularly brutal. If it wasn’t raining or sleeting, the sky was dumping feet-deep snow. Travis helped me down the stairs, making sure I didn’t slip in my stilettos, but when we reached the sidewalk, he lifted me into his arms.
I laced my fingers behind his neck, nuzzling my nose just under his earlobe.
He smelled incredible. The more I thought about it, the more I thought we should stay home.
Within half an hour, we were sitting at the bar of Rizoli’s, a local Italian restaurant. Travis bringing me to Parker’s parents’ restaurant’s competition had crossed my mind, but I decided against mentioning it. The place was packed, but we were fortunate to find a couple of empty seats at the bar while we waited for our table.
I took a sip from my straw, and noticed Travis frowning. “What’s wrong?”
“I wanted tonight to be special. This is
Travis would drop me off after classes and then go to work for a few hours in the evenings. Travis’s last fight usually kept him comfortable for a while, but because of the fire at Hellerton, he didn’t get paid. My savings were depleted because of Mick’s antics the year before, and The Circle had been disbanded since the fire. Travis promised not to fight, anyway, but we had gone from living well, to living on student loans and part-time jobs. It wasn’t horrible, but it was an adjustment.
We both tutored in the evenings---I helped struggling students with algebra and calculus of varying difficulty; Travis tutored in everything else---but most of our bills were paid from the money he made writing papers. Illegal and risky jobs paid best, and old habits die hard.
Travis’s boots took three quick steps into the apartment, and then they retreated. A scuffling noise made the corners of my mouth turn up. The first snow of the season left two inches of muddy slush on the ground, and he knew I’d cleaned this morning so I wouldn’t have to do it after classes. He was wiping his boots.
“Baby! You home?”
“I’m home!” I lilted, pulling up my lashes with the mascara wand just so.
He knocked on the bathroom door.
“Don’t come in!”
He groaned. “I haven’t seen you all day!”
“You saw me three hours ago.”
After a short pause, Travis tapped on the door with his finger. “I see a gift out there. I’m guessing it’s for me?”
“No, it’s for Toto.”
“That’s not nice!”
I laughed. “Yes, Trav, it’s for you.”
“I have something for you, too, so hurry your ass up.”
“Perfection takes time.”
“If you saw yourself in the morning, you would know that’s not true.”
Fifteen minutes later, I was slipping the red baby doll dress that I’d borrowed from America over my head, and then walked into the living room where Travis stood. He was watching the television, remote in one hand, a bottle of beer in the other. My poker face was no match for the fact that he was wearing a tie. It was official: I had seen everything.
Travis caught a glance of me from the corner of his eye and then turned.
“Stunning. I am a lucky, lucky man,” he said, walking toward me until I was in his arms. His lips gently pressed against mine, and then they traveled across my cheek, past my ear, and then down my neck to my collarbone.
“You’re wearing a tie,” I said softly.
He pulled away and looked down. “Do I look like a jackhole?”
“No. You look …I’m considering suggesting we just stay in.”
He smiled, and proudly ran his hand down his tie. “That good, huh?” He grabbed my hand. “That sounds pretty fucking amazing, but we have reservations.
C’mon.”
He led me out by the hand, pausing at the door to help me with my coat.
February had been particularly brutal. If it wasn’t raining or sleeting, the sky was dumping feet-deep snow. Travis helped me down the stairs, making sure I didn’t slip in my stilettos, but when we reached the sidewalk, he lifted me into his arms.
I laced my fingers behind his neck, nuzzling my nose just under his earlobe.
He smelled incredible. The more I thought about it, the more I thought we should stay home.
Within half an hour, we were sitting at the bar of Rizoli’s, a local Italian restaurant. Travis bringing me to Parker’s parents’ restaurant’s competition had crossed my mind, but I decided against mentioning it. The place was packed, but we were fortunate to find a couple of empty seats at the bar while we waited for our table.
I took a sip from my straw, and noticed Travis frowning. “What’s wrong?”
“I wanted tonight to be special. This is
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