construction debris. Stephen nodded in greeting, a smile breaking across his face. Travis could only grimace in return as he went to join the men, guilt slithering like a serpent in his belly. There had been a lot of truth to Georgie’s complaint yesterday. She was more than someone’s little sister. A lot more. That didn’t change the fact that Travis had stepped over a clearly drawn line. There would be consequences.
“Brought you one,” Stephen said. “Black, right?”
“Yeah. Thanks.”
His best friend tugged the collar of his shirt. “I was just telling Dominic my theory.”
Travis raised an eyebrow. “What theory?”
“There’s been a shift in the universe.” Stephen shook his head. “Kristin is keeping a secret. Gossiping with my mother on the phone.” He dropped his voice to a dramatic stage whisper. “There’s something up with the womenfolk.”
Dominic got a far-off look on his face. “Rosie has been stuffing newspapers under the mattress. Does that bolster your theory?”
“Maybe.” Stephen frowned. “Why’s she doing that?”
Dominic’s answer was to shrug and light a cigarette, blowing smoke into the afternoon haze.
Of course, Travis knew what that was about. The Just Us League. Any other time, he would have kept the intelligence to himself, but today was not the day to lie to Stephen. Not when he already had so much shit piled on his head. “They started a club. Far as I know, it’s only Rosie and your sisters. I don’t think it was formed to fuck with your heads, though, boys. More like . . . an adult sorority.”
“My wife is in a club,” Dominic muttered, his jaw flexing. “Women only, you said?”
Travis nodded and Dominic relaxed.
Stephen, however, was tense and staring at Travis, probably wondering how Travis knew about the club. Knowing the confession couldn’t be put off any longer, Travis addressed Dominic without looking at him. “Would you excuse us for a minute, man?”
He felt Dominic shift a glance between them. “Sure.”
“Might want to take the hot coffee.”
That gave both men pause, but Stephen seemed to shake off whatever suspicions he’d racked up. “What’s going on with you?” he asked, setting the tray of coffees on the roof of his minivan instead of handing it to Dominic. “You haven’t looked this nervous since you broke my bike axle trying to jump that trench in seventh grade.”
“I made it eventually.” Travis waited until Dominic walked away but noticed he didn’t seem inclined to go too far. Smart man. “Stephen, something happened with Georgie.”
His friend’s face turned white. “What do you mean? Is she okay?”
“Yes,” Travis rushed to say, realizing he’d phrased that statement in the worst way possible. “Christ. Yes, she’s fine.” His own heart was up in his throat at the imaginary scenario where Georgie was hurt or worse. So much so that it took him a minute to continue. Even then, his pulse continued to hammer from worry. “At least, she was fine when she left my place yesterday.”
“What?” Stephen asked quietly, his voice taking on a dangerous quality. “You better be joking.”
“I’m not joking. She gave me a ride home from town and . . .” He dragged a hand down his face so he wouldn’t have to see the betrayal etched in Stephen’s features. “It didn’t go as far as it could have, but that’s no excuse. I take full responsibility.”
When he opened his eyes again, Stephen was pacing in a circle. “What the fuck, Travis? Why? It’s open season on you in this fucking town and you pick Georgie? You could have anyone else.”
“She’s not like anyone else.”
Stephen put his hands up. “Whoa.”
Travis shook his head. “I didn’t mean that how it sounded.” He hadn’t, right? “That came out wrong. I just meant to say, I’m not interested in anyone. Especially not the women hunting me for sport. Georgie and I . . . we became friends. And trust me, I’m as fucking surprised by that as you are.” A memory of Georgie sliding into his apartment with groceries and a smile forced Travis to pause. “One thing led to another. I didn’t see it coming.”
Was he talking about their friendship or the hookup?
Or something else entirely?
“Goddammit, Travis.”
“I know.” Shaking off the wayward thought, he squared his shoulders. “Take a good, hard swing, just miss my face. I’m in line for a commentating job on a wholesome television network and they’ll never let me on camera if they think I’m going to show up with busted eyes.”
His friend showed a spark of reluctant interest. “Commentating job?”
Travis nodded, grateful