to follow my advice. We’re all here to learn and grow. Starting now. Who is with us?”
Georgie almost fell off the stool when everyone started clapping. They were with her, Georgie Castle. Could it mean they viewed her not only as an equal, but as a mature voice of reason? She’d been fake dating Travis in order to force everyone to view her through a different lens, but she’d ended up doing it on her own without even realizing it, hadn’t she? She’d found a new way to make people listen.
She climbed off the stool, only to be wrapped in a bear hug by Bethany. “All right,” her sister shouted over her head. “Who’s ready to kick ass and take names?”
Everyone converged on them, champagne glasses lifted in a salute.
“If you’re serious about being a member,” Bethany continued, “you can all start by signing up for the Tough Mudder on Friday.”
Another dozen women blew out the front door.
Travis stared across the street at his childhood home.
The rain had let up, but it still tapped from the roof of the rusted detached garage, probably due to a leak. Beer cans littered the yard, courtesy of local kids. A tree root came up through the walkway, cracking the concrete in half.
He wasn’t sure how he’d gotten there. Only that he’d been restless as soon as Georgie left him this morning. So he’d gotten in his truck and driven there. To the scene of his nightmares.
Upon pulling up, his first thought had been a wish that he’d waited and brought Georgie along. His stomach would still be tied up in knots, but they wouldn’t be nearly as tight. She would say the exact right thing. Would read his mood and know when to push, to pull, to do nothing.
With a growl of irritation, he crossed the street and walked into his yard for the first time since he’d left for Northwestern. Since he’d walked out with a suitcase full of the essentials and never looked back. His boots kicked through the gravel, rain landing on his shoulders. Again, he wished for Georgie’s presence. But overall, it wasn’t so bad. Those nights he’d sat outside waiting for his father to get home—or for his mother to pick him up—the yard had seemed so huge and dark. Now? Now everything looked smaller than his memories. Like the set of a bad play.
Even though his name was on the deed, he didn’t have a key. Opening the door was no problem, though, since the hinges were disintegrating with rust. One kick of his boot and the thing swung open. A cat went streaking out through his legs, issuing a loud yowl. Travis took a few seconds to center himself and stepped inside.
The house layout never made sense to him—and still didn’t. There was no entryway or hall. The house simply began with the kitchen. All the furniture was gone, but the terrible green floral wallpaper had stood the test of time, and the floor was yellow with age. The house remained silent, except for the patter of rain on the roof, and Travis half expected to hear the tinny cackle of a television studio audience coming from his father’s room down the hall. That’s where the old man always stayed, leaving Travis to his own devices. Occasionally, they would cross paths on the way to the bathroom, and he swore the frown lines on his father’s face deepened every time, the bitter cascading off him in waves.
“Could I do better than this?”
A mental image of his wretched apartment before Georgie helped him clean made Travis doubtful. Something was prodding him, though. A need he’d never felt before to put down roots, without the visage of his youth haunting him and telling him it wasn’t possible. Why now? Why was he suddenly anxious to shed this final piece of his past so he could start building something new?
Georgie’s smile danced in his head, but he laughed it off. No, a lasting commitment to another person was next level. Wasn’t it? It was enough for now that he wanted stability. To win this job on the network and build a life he could be proud of. A lump built in his throat as he continued to think of Georgie. How she’d felt in his arms this morning. How natural and . . . perfect it felt to start the day with her. And it was impossible to pretend he was at his childhood home for any other reason