Fireworks 3 and 4

Chapter Seven

    Mia clocked the subtle touches and nudges between Drake and Rihanna. She wished that she would've missed those body language cues. She wished that she'd been more engrossed in what Travis was saying. But out of the corner of her eye, she'd noticed that the vibe between Drake and Rihanna had grown less forced and more comfortable. Then she'd caught how serious their conversation looked, and the shy smile Rihanna had given. Mia tore her eyes off of them and stared down at the table.

    "You're letting it get to you," Travis observed.

    "What can I say? I'm not as confident as you are. I don't have as much faith as you do." A cocktail waitress stopped by their table, and Mia ordered two more drinks.

    Travis watched her with a look of concern. "Do you want me to kick his ass for you?"

    She laughed and shook her head. "No."

    "Are you sure? Because I could do it." He maneuvered his head so that she was forced to look at him. "I could do it and have absolutely no regrets about it."

    "Thank you, but no."

    He stood up from the table. "Maybe I could offer you a dance then."

    "So the tabloids can run stories that not only is Drake with Rihanna, but I'm with you?"

    "We can be each others' straight beards," Travis suggested, extending a hand to her.

    She stared at his hand indecisively. "The last time I danced with someone, it became...a thing."

    "Which would be why you have NBA stars stalking you all over the country?" he quipped.

    "Something like that."

    "I promise, I won't kiss you or fall in love with you or any crazy shit like that," Travis said, clapping a hand over his heart. "I solemnly swear. My heart belongs to someone else. She has it in her hands, and it's impossible for me to give it to you when she has it in her possession. So... dance with me."

    Still on the fence, she cast a glance upwards.

    Drake and Rihanna were looking down at them. Rihanna leaned into him and smirked.

    With her mouth set into a grim line, she accepted Travis's hand. "Absolutely no kissing, and hands above the waist."

    "There is plenty of damage I could do above the waist, if I wanted to," he said as he led her onto the dance floor. "But you have my word that I'll be on my best behavior."

    That was reassuring, considering her boyfriend was currently being on his worst.

~~~~~~

    Dancing the night away with Travis was liberating. He was extremely fun around, not too self-conscious. He could let loose and be completely goofy without giving a damn who saw or who was taking pictures. It was easy to see how women could fall in love with him. His carefree nature was contagious. Soon, she wasn't even checking for Drake and Rihanna. She was simply enjoying his company, and the company of the dancers around them. It was almost a disappointment when Chubbs pushed his way through the crowd of dancers and shouted to Mia that it was time for them to coordinate the team's departure from the club.

    Travis slid an arm around Mia's shoulders. "It was lit."

    She smiled at him and returned the half-hug before following Chubbs's lead.

    "Drake and Rihanna are already on their way out to the car," Chubbs explained over his shoulder. "There are a ton of paps out there, so we're going to lay low and get in the car behind them. You'll meet up with Drake once you're in the hotel. They're going to pull up to the front, but we're going to circle around back.

    "No," she said as they exited the club.

    Chubbs turned to face her, frowning. "No?" he echoed.

    "No, I'm not doing that." What am I saying? Didn't I hear anything that Travis had to say? Aren't I supposed to stand by while Aubrey and Rihanna rake in the money?

    "I don't understand."

    "Neither do I," she snapped. "I don't understand why we have to take the charade this far. Sneak into the back door? Who the fuck do I look like? Some side piece who can't keep a man of her own?"

    Chubbs ran a hand across his forehead.

    She crossed her arms over her chest. "I encouraged him to do this. For that reason, I can't complain to much. But I refuse to sneak in through the backdoor like someone he's ashamed of. If I can't walk through the front door, I expect him to book me my own room in another hotel. Of my choosing."

    "Mia. Come on."

    "No, you come on," she threw back at him. "Do you think I deserve this?"

    He shook his head and whipped out his cell phone. "I have to call him."

    "Yeah, you do that," she muttered, turning her back to him and surveying the alleyway they were standing in. Drake and Rihanna had since long gone, already on the road. They were probably scrolling through all of the photos their Instagram, laughing at the pictures where they looked coupled up. Or maybe they'd rekindled some old flame and were making out in the backseat of their SUV. Stop doing this to yourself, Mia. You're spazzing, and all you saw was, what...them bumping into each other on purpose and having a few laughs, a few serious conversations. None of that worried Travis, so it shouldn't worry me.

    "Hey, man. Look. Mia...doesn't want to go through the back."

    "I refuse to go through the back," she corrected him with her back still to him.

    Chubbs cleared his throat. "Excuse me. She refuses to go through the back of the hotel." He paused while listening to whatever Drake had to say. "I know. I tried. She refuses. No. She said if she has to go through the back, she wants you to pay for another hotel room." Another pause. "Then okay, handing it to her now." He tapped her shoulder and thrust his cell phone in front of her.

    She raised the cell phone to her ear. "Hi, sweetie," she said, her voice dripping with sugar.

    "Mia."

    "Don't you even think about putting on your sexy voice," she told him. "I know you. Don't even think about it."

    "You agreed to this."

    "I didn't agree to sneaking in back doors like I was some hooker."

    He sighed heavily. Rihanna was speaking fast in the background, quite possibly on a phone call herself. "I want you to spend the night with me. In our room. Not in some random hotel across town."

    "Then you won't mind if I walk through the front door."

    "Mia. Be reasonable."

    She hung up the phone and handed it to Chubbs just as a black SUV pulled up. "I trust that you have one of his credit cards on you?"

    Chubbs reluctantly nodded.

    "Good," she said, breezing past him and opening the back door of the SUV. "You're going to need it."