Page 22 of Room for Three

Since he bought last time, and apparently spent an entire paycheck on dinner, I figure I’ll pick up the tab this time. We’ve decided to meet at a pub near the university that’s known for its greasy, but delicious appetizers.

They have a great selection of beer, too, but I’m on the clock and in uniform. Travis never drinks during work hours either, so I’ve ordered us both Dr. Peppers and a basket of onion rings to start.

The bell on the door to the establishment jingles, alerting me to a new patron. Travis, dressed in his Ellison Electric work shirt, dirty jeans, and steel-toe work boots, strides in. He flashes me a smile in greeting, but it doesn’t meet his green eyes. This vibe I’m getting from him is really putting me on edge.

“Hey,” I say, as he sits. “How’s it going?”

He rambles about work for a few minutes. The older his boss gets, the more responsibility he gives him, hence his late-night invoicing and bookkeeping. I’m pretty sure the old man is priming him to take over.

After the waitress grabs our order, I give Travis a hard look—one that says, get to the point already.

His features turn stony. “We have to talk about Savvy.”

I stiffen, worry trickling its way in. “Okay. Is she all right? Everything seemed good with her this morning.”

I’m not about to mention how good it felt to have her lips on my cheek.

“I guess,” he mutters. “She just, uh, told me some shit last night while you were upstairs jerking off.”

Heat floods to my cheeks. It’s not like I’m embarrassed that I was doing exactly that, or that he knows I was doing that. I’m embarrassed, because of how he’s looking at me with mild disappointment, that he knows who got me riled up and in need of release.

“What?” I ask, feigning confusion. “What are you talking about?”

Travis cracks a smile that does wonders to calm me down. “Dude, I’ve lived with you our entire adult lives. I know what turns you on and when you need to get off. Hell, you’ve done it with the door open enough times, I’ve learned your patterns.”

Great.

My best friend knows my orgasm schedule.

“Perv. Who even keeps up with that shit?” I ask before shoving an onion ring into my mouth to keep a dumbfounded expression off my face.

He snorts out a laugh. “Like you don’t know what kind of porn I watch or the countless times I’ve had phone sex with a woman.”

I guess he has a point there.

I’ve jerked off from overheard conversations between him and those women more times than I can count.

“So?”

“So,” Travis says, growing serious again, “we have to be careful.”

“Because of Savvy?”

“Yes.”

I rub at my temple, the beginnings of a headache forming. “We’re two guys she rooms with. We can’t hide who we are forever.”

The waitress returns with my grilled chicken sandwich and Travis’s plate of three different kinds of hot wings. He polishes off a third of his meal before circling back to our conversation. While he inhales his favorite food in the entire world, my stomach roils with nerves.

“She told me some messed up stuff about the Monahans.”

I snap my head up and meet his stare. “What kind of stuff?”

“Stuff she probably doesn’t want me blabbing to you. But you’re my best friend and you care about her, so I’m going to tell you.”

With each word he says thereafter, my blood turns colder and colder until I feel like a frozen statue, unable to move or speak.

“You can’t confront her about this. She didn’t want to tell you because she thinks you’ll overreact.”

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