Page 63 of Receiving His Mercy
“Good to know,” Tyler said as he cleaned up.
“Why can’t I have beer? Although I hope it doesn’t stain. I can pay for cleaning.”
“You won’t pay for anything,” Travis told her. “The couch is fine, it’s had worse done to it.”
Worse? Like what?
“Yeah, like the time that Clay and I were fighting over the last piece of pizza. Pizza sauce and white do not mix. But it came out. This couch is magical.” Tyler winked at her.
Magical. Right. Like the charisma that the two of them were pumping out.
“You can’t have beer because you have a concussion and you’re still dizzy. And Tyler shouldn’t be getting you all excited.”
Tyler had finished cleaning at this stage and just shrugged. “Can’t help it if my dick is super exciting, you know. It is what it is.”
Travis sighed and helped her sit on the other side of the couch.
Fuck. She hated to admit it but he was probably correct. Her head wasn’t in the right space for this much excitement. Or for any alcohol.
Idiot.
Travis grabbed the blanket and placed it over her, pushing a cushion behind her back before he sat and faced her. “Headache? Dizziness?”
“Um. Little bit.”
“Of which?” he asked.
“Both?” Oops. She didn’t mean to word that like a question. “Sorry.”
“You don’t need to apologize,” Travis told her.
But she felt like she did. Like she was being a huge pain in the butt. She glanced at Tyler as he walked over.
“Think it’s probably me that should apologize. I got you all excited and gave you a beer. Shouldn’t have done that.”
“No, you shouldn’t have,” Travis told him.
She scowled up at them both. “I can make my own decisions about whether I drink. Or look at a man’s ding-dong.”
“My ding-dong?” Tyler said. “That’s a new one. Not sure if I like it or hate it. Ding-dong. Hmm, got a nice ring to it, I guess. Dinng-donnng.”
“Oh my God. Look what you’ve done.” Travis sent her a chiding look.
She shrugged. “Sorry?”
“No, you’re not,” he said tiredly.
No, she guessed she wasn’t. Because it was kind of funny listening to Tyler sing ding-dong.
“So? How’d you get the bruise on your forehead, Caren?” Tyler asked seriously.
Okay. He had such quick changes of mood that it was a bit jarring.
“Um, well, I . . .”
“She’d rather not talk about it right now,” Travis said firmly.
She sent him a look of utter gratitude. It had been hard enough to tell Travis about this. She wasn’t sure how she could explain this to anyone else.
