Walking Disaster

down the steps to Shepley’s Charger, trying not to speed all the way to Morgan.
    When I arrived at Abby’s door, her confused expression took me by surprise.
    “Travis,” she breathed.
    “Are you ready?”
    Abby raised an eyebrow. “Ready for what?”
    “You said pick you up at five.”
    She folded her arms across my chest. “I meant five in the
morning
!”
    “Oh. I guess I should call Dad and let him know we won’t be staying after all.”
    “Travis!” she wailed.
    “I brought Shep’s car so we didn’t have to deal with our bags on the bike. There’s a spare bedroom you can crash in. We can watch a movie or—”
    “I’m
not
staying at your dad’s!”
    My face fell. “Okay. I’ll uh . . . I’ll see you in the morning.”
    I took a step back, and Abby shut the door. She would still come, but my family would definitely know something was up if she didn’t show up tonight like I’d said she would. I walked
down the hall slowly as I punched in Dad’s number. He was going to ask why, and I didn’t want to outright lie to him.
    “Travis, wait.”
    I flipped around to see Abby standing in the hallway.
    “Give me a minute to pack a few things.”
    I smiled, nearly overwhelmed with relief. We walked together back to her room, and I waited in the doorway while she shoved a few things in a bag. The scene reminded me of the night I’d
won the bet, and I realized that I wouldn’t have traded a single second we spent together.
    “I still love you, Pidge.”
    She didn’t look up. “Don’t. I’m not doing this for you.”
    I sucked in a breath, physical pain shooting in all directions in my chest. “I know.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Acceptance Speech
    T HE EASY CONVERSATIONS WE USED TO HAVE WERE lost on me. Nothing that came to mind seemed appropriate, and I was worried
about pissing her off before we got to Dad’s.
    The plan was for her to play the part, start to miss me, and then maybe I would get another chance to beg her back. It was a long shot, but the only thing I had going for me.
    I pulled into the wet gravel drive, and carried our bags to the front porch.
    Dad answered the door with a smile.
    “Good to see ya, son.” His smiled broadened when he looked at the damp but beautiful girl standing beside me. “Abby Abernathy. We’re looking forward to dinner tomorrow.
It’s been a long time since . . . Well. It’s been a long time.”
    Inside the house, Dad rested his hand on his protruding belly and grinned. “I set you two up in the guest bedroom, Trav. I didn’t figure you would wanna fight with the twin bed in
your room.”
    Abby looked to me. “Abby’s uh . . . she’s going to uh . . . going to take the guest room. I’m going to crash in mine.”
    Trenton walked up, his face screwed into disgust. “
Why?
She’s been staying at your apartment, hasn’t she?”
    “Not lately,” I said, trying not to lunge at him. He knew exactly why.
    Dad and Trenton traded glances.
    “Thomas’s room has been storage for years now, so I was going to let him take your room. I guess he can sleep on the couch,” Dad said, looking at its ratty, discolored
cushions.
    “Don’t worry about it, Jim. We were just trying to be respectful,” Abby said, touching my arm.
    Dad’s laughter bellowed throughout the house, and he patted her hand. “You’ve met my sons, Abby. You should know it’s damn near impossible to offend me.”
    I nodded toward the stairs, and Abby followed. I gently pushed open the door with my foot and sat our bags on the floor, looking at the bed and then turning to Abby. Her gray eyes were big as
they scanned the room, stopping on a picture of my parents that hung from the wall.
    “I’m sorry, Pidge. I’ll sleep on the floor.”
    “Damn straight you will,” she said, pulling her hair up into a ponytail. “I can’t believe I let you talk me into this.”
    I sat on the bed, realizing just how unhappy she was about the situation. I guess part of me hoped she’d be as relieved as I was to be together. “This is going to be a fucking mess.
I don’t know what I was thinking.”
    “I know exactly what you were thinking. I’m not stupid, Travis.”
    I looked up and offered a tired smile. “But you still came.”
    “I have to get everything ready for tomorrow,” she said, opening the door.
    I stood. “I’ll help you.”
    As Abby prepared the potatoes, pies, and turkey, I was busy fetching and handing her things, and completed the small cooking tasks she