Wild About You

Chapter Seven

Veronica

I'm not doing this for any reason other than for me, I lie to myself silently.

"Ready?" the woman asks. I nod in the affirmative and she pulls the wax strip. I bite my lips and stifle a scream. I hear her moving around behind me, a small little pinch here and there, and then she tells me I'm done.

I have survived my first Brazilian wax. 

I dress quickly, ignoring the blush on my cheeks.

Both sets.

After I leave the salon, I head over to get my nails done. I'm not usually this self-indulgent but I haven't really had a night out in years. I want to look like I've made some kind of effort to look presentable. And I don't have to go all out, really, it's just a karaoke bar with a bunch of friends. I'm not on a date. I'm just meeting up with Travis and some of his friends. That's all. 

I waxed my entire downstairs for the first time in my life because it's what all the kids are doin'.

Sure, Jan. 

It has nothing to do with the fact that Travis and I have been in each other's pockets for two months since his break up from Catt and I might have the teeny tiniest crush on him. 

More like a crush the size of Texas that scares the life out of me. I don't know how I allowed this to happen. I was firmly set in my independent single life. After Charlie, I swore I would wait years before I thought about getting serious again. When I moved I contemplated dating casually again. And now, I'm crossing myself every time I hear a police siren, and last night I was scrolling through Amazon looking at police radios. 

Y'know, so I could keep up with the local neighborhood activity. 

Liar, Liar. Pants on fire. 

I tell my manicurist to polish my nails purple since Travis told me it was his favorite color. I may, perhaps, be wearing a purple sweater tonight that makes my eyes pop but that's all I am willing to admit to myself at the moment. I will not presume, as he always tells me, that Travis would even consider a relationship. Besides, things are going swimmingly between us as they are. We work out together at least four times a week. We have breakfast every Saturday morning, after the gym. We are currently binge-watching The Witcher. Everything is perfect. Why ruin it? 

Except for the fact that I want to climb him like a tree. Every single time he looks at me, I can feel that ache start to throb inside me. He also makes me feel other things. Like wanting to trust him with my secrets. I want to tell him the truth about why I moved out here, why I have ignored my sister's voicemails and delete any texts she sends without even reading them. My life has really started over again and I like it. If Travis doesn't know my past, he can't judge me for it. He has asked me questions about my parents and my sisters but I usually end up either giving a short answer or I sidestep the question completely. So far that has worked, but I'm not sure I want to keep avoiding the questions. 

Honestly, it would be nice to tell someone besides a therapist what happened with me and Charlie. What really happened to make me uproot my life and move completely across the country by myself. Part of me is dying to tell Travis because I know he would listen and be understanding. The other part of me doesn't want him to know how weak and stupid I was, how I became all but a shell of myself for a man that I thought loved me. 

By the time my nails are done drying, I'm trying hard not to talk myself out of going. It's so much easier to hide. But that idea has a short shelf life because I want to go. I want to see how Travis behaves around his friends. 

What if he tries to pick up other women? The ugly voice in my head whispers. A knot forms in the pit of my stomach. I can't stop him. He is single, after all. And so am I for that matter. Maybe I will get picked up. 

Highly unlikely. 

I have a hard enough time keeping my focus on anything that isn't Travis at this stage. Unless Henry Cavill is showing up for karaoke night, it's gonna be all eyes on Travis night for me. 

I'm just about finished blow-drying my hair when I hear my cell phone ring. It's Travis' ringtone. I set it to Walker Hayes's song "Fancy Like" since I stumbled across a TikTok video of him and another officer doing a dance to it. He was shakin' his ass in full uniform lip-synching the words and I thought I was going to have to wring out my underwear. 

"Sir," I give him my usual greeting. 

"Madame, we have a problem," he begins and my heart sinks. "I'm over at another station and I'm stuck doing paperwork. I've got a change of clothes in the car. Would it be okay if I met you at the bar instead?"

My heart begins beating happily again. 

"Sure, just give me directions and I'll Uber over," I tell him, as I look in my bathroom mirror trying to figure out how to wear my hair. 

"I'll send one over for you," he says.

"Okay," I agree reluctantly. I'm still clinging to my independent streak. "What time do you want me ready?" There is a pause.

"What did you say?" he asks in an alarmed tone.

"What... time... do... you... want... me... to... be... ready?" 

"Oh," he gives a sigh, "about seven. Be ready to go at seven."

"What did you think I said?" I tease him.

"Nothing," he says quickly. 

"Okay, I'll be ready. See ya then weirdo," I tease him.

"Right on Harmonica," he teases back before hanging up.

Sir.

The Uber drops me off at a bar called Sing Sing. Perfect name for a karaoke bar if I'm going to be honest. It's not a huge place but it has a cool vibe to it. I head over to the bar and quickly order a Cosmopolitan for some liquid courage. I check my face in the mirror behind the bar. I decided to wear my hair down for the night. I didn't go overboard on the makeup, just some liner and lashes and a touch of lip gloss. I decided against the purple sweater and went with a black shirt-dress instead but I did manage to find a pair of purple heels in the back of my closet that went well with it. 

The bartender gives me my drink and I smile my thank you. I take a long sip and sigh as the liquid warms my belly. I fiddle with my thumb ring, twirling it over and over again with my nervous energy. 

I smell him before I see him. That goddamn ridiculous cologne he wears that makes me want to give him a half a dozen babies. 

I turn around just as he is about to tap me on the shoulder.

"Veronica," he says in a husky voice. 

"Hi Travis," I reply, my voice a tad shaky. He looked delectable in dark blue pants and a white button-up shirt. Even in heels I still have to look up at him. 

"Let me introduce you to my friends."