Page 7 of Not Over You

Travis… Travis is in my freaking apartment.

And he saw me do that. Ugh.

Why is he here? Why now of all the times to show up does he choose now?

He looks the same as he always has, handsome and a bit dangerous. That’s what made me fall for him in the first place. He had the whole bad boy vibe going on. I sneak another peek at him. His dark hair is disheveled like he has been running his hands through the thick strands. His clothes show off his toned body. A light gray shirt stretching over his muscular chest, dark blue jeans loosely fitting over his lean legs, and to finish the I-don’t-give-a-fuck look, he’s wearing a leather jacket. Of course, he is.

Why does he have to be so handsome? A lot of painful memories rush up to the surface and nearly suffocate me. My anger at their intrusion trumps the memories, and I launch a string of colorful words at them as I run through the kitchen and to my room. Slamming the door behind me for good measure, I suck a deep breath into my lungs, trying to calm myself enough to put on some clothes. God. I’m so stupid. I gave everything to Travis, and then he disappeared. I couldn’t eat or sleep for months after we broke up.

Sifting through my closet, I end up choosing a pair of black leggings and a tight tank top. Might as well show Travis what he’s missing out on. I take a few more deep breaths trying to compose myself.

You can do this. You can totally do this. Just walk out there…

With my head held high, I walk out of my room, stomping down the hall, deciding that I’m just going to get rid of them. Once they’re gone, I’ll go back to enjoying my time alone, and I’m definitely eating all of that cookie dough now.

Entering the living room, I give Grady a death stare, telling him with my mind that he is going to pay for this one way or another. “Tell me why you thought it was a good idea to barge in here without knocking?”

“I didn’t know you would be doing that whatever that was. I thought that was Vicki’s job.” He gives me a smirk, and I kinda want to slap him.

“I was having my personal time.” I cross my arms over my chest, trying to ignore Travis all together. Realizing too late, what I just said.

Personal time? Who says that? God, I am being weird.

This causes Grady to laugh so hard, he has to wipe his eyes. My cheeks heat in embarrassment at what they saw me doing while listening to the music. Travis has the good grace to just stare at the floor instead of laugh. At least he’s gotten wiser since I saw him last.

“It’s not funny, I don’t even want to know what you do when you’re alone,” I pout.

Grady continues laughing. Okay, it wasn’t that funny.

Unable to ignore the big elephant in the room, I pin my brother with a questioning stare.

“Why did you bring him?” I point toward Travis like they didn’t already know who I was talking about. There’s a lot more anger behind my words than I intended there to be. Travis doesn’t seem phased though, matter of fact, he looks amused, and a lot like an ass.

“Well, little sister. You need a roommate, and I brought you one.” Grady gestures to Travis. As soon as the words are out of his mouth, I feel my mouth go dry, and my heart skips a beat in my chest.

“Oh, no,” I say, shaking my head. “No, no, no, no, no, Grady! This is not happening.” He has no idea what he’s done, but this is something that just can’t happen.

Marching out of the room and into the bathroom, I feel a panic attack coming on. I cannot believe this is happening. Grabbing my face wash tube, I squeeze it like a stress ball and shift my weight from foot to foot. Through the door, I can hear Grady’s muffled voice telling Travis he’s going to see what my problem is.

“Travis knows what my problem is,” I whisper to my reflection.

A minute later, Grady walks into the bathroom and shuts the door behind him.

“What’s your problem? You need a roommate; Travis is a roommate. I’ve just solved all your damn problems.” He gestures back to the living room, where the object of my complete unraveling awaits.

I try to figure out how to tell my brother the problem, without actually telling him anything. Squeezing my impromptu stress ball more furiously, I try to concentrate, but it’s really hard knowing that freaking Travis is in the next room. Standing there, probably staring at the floor stupidly.

The next thing I know, the tube in my hand pops open, and the facewash explodes. Spurts of gel cover the mirror and sink. Fuck.

Grady doesn’t even say anything. He just shakes his head and I focus on trying to clean it up. “It’s just not a good fit,” I finally say, my voice sounding strangely high-pitched.

“He has money, and he’s here,” Grady tries to convince me further, “he’s not a serial killer. I would trust him with my life, so I trust him with you. What else could be the problem?”

I almost snort, almost. What isn’t the problem is the bigger question?

Facing him, I shrug, “Men and women shouldn’t live together.”

“You were going to put an ad on Craigslist. You know men were probably going to reply. You’d rather live with the rapist squirrel?”

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