“Thisis your hottie neighbor?!” Kinsley asks in a loud screech.
I groan inwardly and then shoot her a death glare. She tries to look apologetic, but it turns into a sheepish smile.
“Travis.” He flashes a wide grin at my friends, but when he turns his attention back to me, he manages to look remorseful. “I’m really sorry. Can I buy you a drink or a thousand to make it up to you?”
I wish it were that simple. He seems like he might be a good guy—flirty but kind. However, when I look at him, all I can think about are my dreams going up in flames.
“Thanks, but I should probably head out as well.”
“What?” Kinsley doesn’t even bother hiding her disappointment. “No!”
“It’s late. You should get home too,” I tell her. We have to be at the gym in less than eight hours.
“Nah. I’ll risk being tired tomorrow for a night out with my girl.” She and Skylar share a smile as they snuggle closer to each other. I’d risk a little sleep deprivation if someone looked at me like that too.
“Can I offer you a ride?” Travis asks me.
I do my best to offer him a polite smile. “No thanks.”
“Why not? I’m going that way.”
“I don’t get in vehicles with strange men. Or strange women for that matter.”
“Good. Good. Safety first.”
I wait a beat, certain he’s going to say something else to sway my decision. He doesn’t.
“Okay, well, bye.” I turn from him, hug both Kinsley and Skylar, and when I look back, he’s gone.
Relief hits me at the same time as something else…something a lot like disappointment. I try my best not to think too hard about that as I ride home in the back of the Uber. I thank the woman and step out into my driveway at the same time a black Range Rover pulls in next door.
Travis parks and gets out.
“You followed me home?” I raise my voice to call to him across the side yard that separates our driveways.
“Did I or was I just leaving the bar at the same time and going the exact same way?” The smirk he wears gives me my answer.
“Stalk much?”
“IfI followed you home, and that’s a big if, then it was because I wanted to make sure you got home okay.”
“I’m very capable of getting myself home.”
“Of course you are.”
His agreement is almost more maddening than if he were to fight me on the subject.
“Grrrrah!” The noise that comes out of me is similar to that when I’ve failed to land a new skill after dozens of attempts. Travis Bennett is a maddening, frustrating, and annoyingly handsome man.
I march to my front door without sparing him another glance. His laughter filters through the quiet neighborhood.
“Night, Hannah!” he calls after me.
On Thursday, I walk out of the gym feeling the stress of the week in every muscle of my body. I’ve pushed myself hard. Partly to prove to Coach Rodier that I deserve to be here and partly to forget about my dwindling bank account.
It’s worked. Mostly.
All I want is to go home, shower, and crawl into bed. Unfortunately, it’ll have to wait. I desperately need groceries and I ran out of shampoo this morning.
