Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 59120 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 296(@200wpm)___ 236(@250wpm)___ 197(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 59120 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 296(@200wpm)___ 236(@250wpm)___ 197(@300wpm)
Travis doesn’t even blink. He speaks to me as if Jacob isn’t even in the room with us. “You come back to town after all these years, and this... this is what you do?”
Oh, he did not.
“If you have something to say to me, Travis, say it.” I snap. “Because I am quite sick of your anger being tossed at me.”
He jerks his chin in Jacob’s direction. “You trying to piss me off?”
Reagan clears her throat, loud. “You’re making a scene, Phoenix.”
Still nothing.
He will not acknowledge anyone else.
I don't want this to escalate.
I stand. “Let’s go talk outside,” I say, because if we don’t, he will have this entire room recording us in minutes and then my face will be all over the damn internet, again.
He follows me out.
We don’t even make it past the bottom step before he spins on me. The air outside is cooler now, but his breath is hot on my face as he leans in close.
“Is this really your plan? Show up after all these years, and rub other guys in my face as if you being back in town isn’t fucking enough?”
I shake my head, shocked that he is still making all of this about him. I get anger, but this... this is something else entirely. “I came back to make sure you weren’t dead, Travis. You have made it very clear how you feel, so I don’t know why you’re here carrying on like this.”
He steps in closer. The hurt is real now, and it stings. “You’re playing fucking games with me. Just go home. Why the fuck are you still here?”
“Because for whatever goddamned reason, I can’t seem to walk away from you.”
My voice is shaky now, but I don’t back down.
“Funny, it didn’t fucking stop you two years ago. Don’t let it hold you back now.”
I lean in, so there’s no way he can miss the next part. “You know what, I don’t even know who you are anymore. If this is the kind of man you have become, Travis Phoenix, then that little girl is far better off without you.”
I know my words are harsh, and deep down, I regret them as soon as they leave my lips, but it’s too late now. He reels, physically, and for a split second I see the boy I loved, not the man he became. “Fuck you, Violet. Fuck you for coming back just to break everything all over again.”
I glare at him, my voice unwavering. “That’s where you’re wrong. You broke it, Travis.”
He stares at me, for a long, long moment.
I don’t let him have another second.
I turn and walk back inside, every inch of me shaking, and sit down next to Jacob, who doesn’t ask any questions, just tells the bartender to bring me a water and offers me a smile I probably don’t deserve.
I don’t know how much longer I can do this.
Maybe I should just go home.
Maybe it’s better for everyone if I do.
6
I don’t go home.
I should, but I don’t.
Bringing myself to leave just feels impossible.
Then there is the little problem I am having: Reagan is forcing me to go to Travis’s show tonight. Okay, well, she’s not forcing me, I agreed to, but I am starting to think it’s probably a bad idea. I’m quite certain he doesn’t want me there, and yet here I am, dressed to the nines in a sparkly black dress, my hair flowing, wondering what the hell I’m doing.
“This is a very bad idea,” I say, as I twirl my lashes up with mascara.
Reagan, who is wearing a gorgeous red dress, snorts. “Girl, I told you if you really don’t want to go...”
“Yes, I know, and I’m still going so I can only blame myself if it goes bad. God, why can’t I just pack up and go home, just leave all of this behind?”
“Because that isn’t your home, and you know it.”
I hate it when she’s right.
We drive to the show with Reagan hyping me up enough that I am starting to think she is doubting our decision. The venue is as big as they always are when Travis plays. A huge stage, thousands of people, and an atmosphere that is unmatched. We get ourselves a few drinks and then find our seats—good ones, of course—and look down over the stage, waiting for the show to start. My leg bounces nervously as I watch, just waiting.
The lights drop, the stage comes to life, and the crowd goes silent as we watch, just waiting for the moment the show begins. It is the best moment, if you ask me, the one right before the artist comes on stage, and you can feel your heart in your throat. The entire crowd pushes forward with a collective intake of breath, a sound you can feel in your soul. I grip the edge of my seat so tightly that my fingers hurt.