He chuckles before running a hand through his curly hair. “Focused,” he answers, his voice strengthening.
“Then you’re in town for work?” We haven’t discussed our careers, and frankly, I don’t want to, but the question comes out anyway.
“I am. You?”
I shake my head and rise from my chair, crossing the carpeted floor to the window. “Friend-cation,” I reply over my shoulder.
Travis approaches. “The friend from the bar who has better taste than you.”
I narrow my eyes on him, pulling a sideways smile from his lips.
“Kandace does have better taste than me,” I admit.
“They say acceptance is the first step to recovery.”
I bite my inner lip, refusing to smile.
“Then you two make these trips to Vegas often?”
“Vegas, Miami, Mexico City. We don’t live near one another, so we have to plan our get togethers. It just so happened that her husband had a work conference here this week at the same time one of our favorite cover bands is playing.”
“Let me guess, she’s the one who introduced you to the band.”
“Every great friendship has the more outgoing one with slightly better taste and the introverted one. Guess which category I fall into?”
He cocks his head to the side, the space between his brows wrinkling. “Is that true?”
I jut my head back. “You’ve never noticed?”
His expression gives his answer away.
“It’s everywhere,” I exclaim. “Bert and Ernie, Galinda and Elphaba …”
“Lilo and Stitch,” he adds.
I snap and point at him. “See, you get it.”
“Jekyll and Hyde,” he adds.
“Does that one really count? Technically, he was only one person.”
Travis shrugs a shoulder. “Never read the book even though it was assigned. Wasn’t into school much,” he offers casually. “For the sake of your argument, we’ll say it counts.”
“Oh, bacon and eggs is another one.”
“Bacon is the extrovert of that duo.”
“Definitely bacon,” I mumble with a grin before turning to face the window again.
We both stare out at the lights in silence for a while. Travis’ arm brushes against mine, and though there’s no direct skin to skin contact due to our clothing, heat rushes through me.
The silence isn’t awkward or displeasing in the way I would think it would be with a person who’s a practical stranger. Not even when Travis slips a hand behind my back, holding me by the waist.
“I love this view.”
“One of my favorites in the city,” he tells me. “I request this room every year when I come into town.”
“What do you enjoy about it?” I ask.
