Shores of Truth

Ch. 8, End of the Week

Nyx

The sun was setting. Despite the purple and red sunset's glorious nature, Nyxeria's attention was focused on the man beside her. He smelled of cotton, old books, and something else she couldn't put a finger on. She was pleasantly surprised at his kissing ability. That was one thing far too many guys were inept at. Their hands were the only things entwined at the moment. She had the desire for more than that to be entwined, but she pushed the thought to the back of her mind. Nyxeria instead focused on the serenity of the present.

 Once the sun had gone down, the two of them picked up the mess. Travis grabbed the bag before she could protest. Fine, she thought, let him be a gentleman. Still Nyxeria was uncomfortable with her perceived lack of feminist strength, but wasn't letting him be courteous better. She shook her head at the idea. She could ponder feminism later. At least she was driving.

The drive home was pleasant as they sang along to the radio. It wasn't long before she pulled into her own driveway. He convinced her he was going to take a walk so there was no need to take him all the way home. Her mother peaked out from behind the curtains. Max was far less discrete with his wet nose pressed onto the window. She smiled to herself.

 "I hope they were not waiting up," Travis said opening her door.

 "Don't worry about it. I'm sure it was something unrelated is keeping them up." They made their way to the front door. Nyxeria giggled, "You're walking me to my door. I don't think I have ever felt more like a teenager."

 "Neither do I. But for completely different reasons." In front of her door he bent down and gave her another passionate kiss.

 "I'd invite you in but..."

 "I'll see you tomorrow, Nyxeria." Travis kissed her hand and swaggered away, leaving Nyxeria blushing.

"That looked like it went very well," Mrs. Page said. She had just sat down in a chair facing Nyxeria walking in. The dog gave a playful bark as Nyxeria bent down to give him a hug. The hug mostly covered her massive grin from her mother. "It always feels good in the beginning," she warned.

 "Mom," she started from her position on the floor with Max, "Yes. I would say it went well."

 "Good. I am happy for you."

 "Thank you."

 "I want to know everything."

 Mrs. Page mimicked her daughter’s grin as she began from the beginning. "So I picked him up..."

Travis

Travis headed down to the water. The stars were starting to come out. There were so many out tonight. His hands were tucked into his pockets. It was icy out, but the cold didn't bother him. He really liked Nyx. This had surprised him. She was sweet, intelligent, funny, and far too many other qualities to list.

 His phone rang, "Travis here."

 It was his manager, Don. "Hey, how are things going in the states? Listen I need you back in London by tomorrow."

 "Tomorrow?"

 "We've just been approached for a once in a lifetime role. They want to meet with you ASAP. Listen you've got some 'fresh air' time to get back to the real world. Things move fast. Trust me, get here."

 "Don, I can't just hop on the next plane."

 "Sure you can."

 "Okay, well… how about I think it over."

 "It's a girl isn't it?"

 "Don..."

 "I'll send you the details. Listen don't be a twit. We have worked together a long time. I'm happy you’re happy, but don't be a bloody idiot and mess up what you've taken your entire career working for."

 "Stall. Give me till the end of the week."

 Don paused. He grumbled, "End of the week. That is it."

 "I'll be back in London before you know it."

For the first time since Travis had arrived he was excited to get up. The sun was bright. Birds were singing. It was only later that he recalled his conversation with his manager, Don. He only had a few days to spend with Nyx. He had to go back. There was no other choice. Even with the inevitable knowledge that they soon would part ways Travis was set on making the most of it. It was only 7 am. There was a good chance he'd catch her for breakfast. Screw not seeming too eager. There was a time limit.