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 f**king 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 kind of lame.”
“Lame? This is one of my favorite restaurants.”
“Yeah, but it’s still …average. I wanted our first Valentine’s to be, I don’t know, remarkable, I guess? Look at all of the people here, doing the same thing we are.”
“That’s not a bad thing.”
A woman yelled over the dozens of conversations humming throughout the room. “Maddox?”
“C’mon,” Travis said, stepping off his bar stool. He held out his hand. “Let’s go.”
“But,” I said, pointing to the woman. “She just called our name.”
Travis smiled, his dimple sinking into his cheek. “C’mon, Pidge.”
Without another word, I stepped down and grabbed his hand, following him outside. He stopped only to grab dinner from a drive-thru, and then he continued.
Turn after turn, Travis was headed to the college.
“You’re not taking me to the Sig Tau date party, are you?”
Travis’s face screwed into disgust.
I had an idea of where we were headed when we were still blocks away, but it wasn’t until Travis parked our car in front of Bartlen Hall that I knew exactly what he was up to.
“You’re kidding, right?”
“Nope,” he said, slamming the driver’s side door and then running around to open mine.
Travis took my hand, and we quickly and quietly made our way around the back of the building.
“No,” I said, staring at the open basement window.
Travis had already backed in and jumped down before I could protest further.
“C’mon, Pigeon!”
Snow was still on the ground. I was going to be wet and cold and instantly cranky. “No way!”
Travis’s hand shot out from the darkness of the basement like a cat reaching out from under a door. “It’ll be like old times!”
“Not just no, Travis. Hell no.”
“It’s getting lonely down here.”
“This is a horrible idea.”
“You’re messing up my plan!”
“You’re insane! This isn’t even my dress, and you’re asking me to ruin it!”
“It’s a little early in the night for that.”
I could almost hear him trying not to laugh. I crossed my arms. After a long pause, Travis’s voice, low and desperate, floated up from the window. “Please?”
I rolled my eyes. “Fine.”
Two backwards scoots, a squeal, and a fall later, I was in Travis’s arms in the basement of Bartlen---the building where we met for the first time.
Travis used his cell phone to light the way, and I followed him down a series of hallways. Finally one of the halls opened up into a large, familiar room. Without the yelling and drunken frat boys shoulder to shoulder, it seemed bigger, and less … sweaty.
I could almost hear Adam’s voice blaring through the bullhorn, and feel the way the energy exploded once Travis entered the room. I thought about the blood spraying my cardigan, and my eyes leaving the cashmere to fall on a pair of black boots.
Travis pulled me to the center of the room. The memory of him wiping the blood from my face and pushing away anyone who came near me replayed in my mind.
“Pigeon,” Travis said, almost the same time as he said the word in my memory.
“This is where it all started.”
“Where I saw you for the first time. When you turned my whole f**king world upside down.” He leaned down to kiss my cheek, and then he handed me a small box. “It’s not much. I’ve been saving for it, though.”
I opened it, and a wide, ridiculous grin spread across my face. It was a charm bracelet.
“It’s the story of us,” he said.
A sweater, a pair of dice, a green bead with shamrocks on it. I looked to Travis.
“That’s supposed to signify our bet,” he said, pointing to the dice, “and that one is for the first night we danced,” he said, pointing to a red bead.
The next charm was a motorcycle; the next a heart. “For the first time I said I loved you?”
“Yep.” He seemed pleased that I’d figured it out on my own.
“And this one?” I said, pointing to a deck of cards. “Poker night at dad’s?”
Travis smiled again. The next was a turkey, and I laughed. The next bead was plain black.
“For the time we spent apart. The darkest time of my life.”
The next was a flame charm. I didn’t like to think about the fire, but it was a part of our story, and so it was a part of us. The next charm was a ring.
I looked up at him. “This is pretty amazing.”
“There’s room for more. These are just the beginning of our story, Pidge.”