Stay in your Lane (On Hold)

Chapter Nine ~ Warm

I'm putting all of my focus into this book until it's finished. As soon as the holidays have ended, I'll start uploading more too 😘 Hope you enjoy!

Chapter Nine

Trauma responses are real.

There I stood, pressed against my weakness, his husky voice whispering perfection, drawing me deeper and deeper under his spell, and all I could think about was losing him. Losing this. Of Daddy in his shit trailer, drinking himself to oblivion. Alone. Broken. Abandoned.

Daddy hadn't been the same since Mama left, and I understood, because neither had I. Then when Travis left the first time, I knew exactly how it felt. Like my heart had been ripped out and stolen, leaving behind an aching void full of unspoken words. All the nights I'd spent sobbing into my pillow, making deals with God if he would just bring him back.

I wouldn't survive it again.

"I'm seeing someone."

The words left me like barbs from a porcupine. An involuntary defense mechanism triggered by instinct and experience.

Travis flinched as if every bit had pierced his skin. "No you're not."

"Yes I am."

"I checked."

"We've been keeping it discreet."

"Who?"

"Sawyer." I bit my tongue. My brain wasn't working. I was too torn apart: wanting him, not wanting him.

Travis didn't pull away. He kept his arm securely wrapped around my waist, his face bent close to mine. "Who the hell is Sawyer?"

A thrill shot through my belly. Nobody, I wanted to say. He was absolutely no one. A lie made up because the way you feel makes my heart beat much too fast. "You met him. . .at the bowling alley."

His brow furrowed. "The fucking snack guy?"

I almost laughed. Almost. Sawyer wasn't my type anymore than I was his. But he was still the best friend I'd ever had. I narrowed my eyes. "You got something against Sawyer?"

"I do now."

Why wasn't I pushing him away? He was so warm. He smelled amazing. We fit like something broken, finally pieced back together.

"Break up with him."

"What?"

His arm flexed, pressing our bodies closer, creating the most delicious friction. It felt too good not to be a sin. My lips parted around a foreign sound. Something soft, something wicked.

Travis rumbled deep in his chest. "Break up with him," he breathed, his lips dangerously close to mine. He wasn't letting up. He knew the power he had over me; he wielded it without shame. "Please?" He kissed me softly, fleeting, enticing, beckoning me to take the leap. To give in. To see things his way. To want what he wanted.

I'd never been very good at self-restraint. I ate the cake. I drank the soda. I splurged and bought the new bowling ball when I should have paid the water bill. And I'd never wanted anything more than him. My eyes drank in the angles of his face, accentuated by moonlight and shadows. His lips, tempting.

I broke. I kissed him. I kissed him like it was the last time. Like it was every time in the space he'd been gone. A thousand kisses I hadn't gotten the chance to give him, and regret poured from my limbs as I did, leaving me loose, pliant. It was what I'd wanted. What I'd always wanted.

Travis groaned and stumbled forward, lowering me to the Earth. His hand ran up the bare skin of my leg, pushing my dress to my waist. Cool air emphasized the heat.