“I know, but he hasn’t even tried? He’s slept with everyone.”
“Except us,” America said, looking her over. “And you.”
Kara shrugged. “Well, I’ve never met him. I’ve just heard.”
“Exactly,” I snapped. “You don’t even know him.”
Kara returned to her monitor, oblivious to our presence.
I sighed. “All right, Mare. I need to pack.”
“Make sure you pack for a few days: Who knows how long it will take them to fix the boilers?” she said, entirely too excited.
Dread settled over me as if I were about to sneak into enemy territory. “Ugh … all right.”
America bounced when she hugged me. “This is going to be so fun!”
Half an hour later we loaded down her Honda and headed for the apartment. America hardly took a breath between ramblings as she drove. She honked her horn as she slowed to a stop in her usual parking space. Shepley jogged down the steps and pulled both of our suitcases from the trunk, following us up the stairs.
“It’s open,” he puffed.
America pushed the door and held it open. Shepley grunted when he dropped our luggage to the floor. “Christ, baby! Your suitcase is twenty more pounds than Abby’s!”
America and I froze when a woman emerged from the bathroom, buttoning her blouse.
“Hi,” she said, surprised. Her mascara-smeared eyes examined us before settling on our luggage. I recognized her as the leggy brunette Travis had followed from the cafeteria.
America glared at Shepley.
He held up his hands. “She’s with Travis!”
Travis rounded the corner in a pair of boxer shorts and yawned. He looked at his guest and then patted her backside. “My company’s here. You’d better go.”
She smiled and wrapped her arms around him, kissing his neck. “I’ll leave my number on the counter.”
“Eh…don’t worry about it,” Travis said in a casual tone.
“What?” she asked, leaning back to look in his eyes.
“Every time!” America said. She looked at the woman. “How are you surprised by this? He’s Travis Fucking Maddox! He is famous for this very thing, and every time they’re surprised!” she said, turning to Shepley. He put his arm around her, gesturing for her to calm down.
The girl narrowed her eyes at Travis and then grabbed her purse and stormed out, slamming the door behind her.
Travis walked into the kitchen and opened the fridge as if nothing had happened.
America shook her head and walked down the hall. Shepley followed her, angling his body to compensate for the weight of her suitcase as he trailed behind.
I collapsed against the recliner and sighed, wondering if I was crazy for agreeing to come. I didn’t realize Shepley’s apartment was a revolving door for clueless bimbos.
Travis stood behind the breakfast bar, crossed his arms over his chest, and smiled. “What’s wrong, Pidge? Hard day?”
“No, I’m thoroughly disgusted.”
“With me?” He was smiling. I should have known that he expected the conversation. It only made me less inclined to hold back.
“Yes, you. How can you just use someone like that and treat them that way?”
“How did I treat her? She offered her number, I declined.”