Page 24 of Almost Beautiful (Beautiful 3)

“About Travis and you. Everyone’s talking about it. I got to tell Alexis she was a jealous twat. To her face. It was amazing.”

I felt my cheeks flush. “Great.”

I continued down the sidewalk and America followed, beaming with pride.

“Not even half believe it.”

I stopped abruptly. “Believe what? That we’re married? Or that he married me?”

She shrugged. “Both.” When she realized I was offended, she back peddled. “But, c’mon. Look at you. Of course he did. I mean, it’s Travis. No one thought he’d ever get married. To anyone.”

I looked down at my less-than-special plaid flannel shirt and olive-green vest, skinny jeans and tall, brown boots. My hair was damp and in a high, messy bun. I couldn’t remember if I’d bothered to put on makeup before leaving the apartment or not. I looked around, noticing people’s lingering, curious stares.

Someone whistled, and I turned, watching the sea of students part to reveal Travis walking toward me.

He was strutting down the center of the walkway, his hands in his jean’s pockets, wearing a gray beanie, a black and white Ramones T-shirt under an open red and black flannel button down. His black leather boots added just that extraDon’t fuck with me, I’ll end youto the look.

Even with a wedding ring on his finger, the coeds stopped to stare. His perfect jawline, the dimple, his flawless stride—Travis was beautiful. An overabundance of sex and charm radiated from him without effort.

It wouldn’t surprise me if he started walking in slow motion with Sweetie’sMy Typeplaying from somewhere.

“Look at that,” I said. “That’s why people don’t believe it.”

“You’ll have beautiful children, I’ll give you that,” America said. “And look. So cute. Y’all married with matching flannels.”

I frowned. “They’re different colors.”

One side of Travis’s mouth turned up, his right brow lifted the tiniest bit, and I swallowed, feeling butterflies in my stomach.

He stopped a couple feet away, staring at me with the same look on his face as when the officiant in Vegas saidman and wife. Travis didn’t even have to say he loved me, I could see it in the way he looked at me, the way he moved, hear it in the way he spoke, even if what he was saying had nothing to do with me.

He breathed out a laugh, noticing my expression. “What is going on in that head of yours?”

I shook my head and threw my arms around his neck. “I’m good,” I said softly, pressing my cheek against his. Feeling his whiskers against my face was comforting, as was the smell of his cologne. “I just ...” I let him go and shrugged. “I love you.”

He stared at me for a moment, a wide grin spreading across his face. “That’s all I need.” He slid my backpack off my shoulders and swung it over one of his, took my hand, and then led me to the parking lot.

If people weren’t staring, they were pretending not to stare until we passed.

I could feel curious eyes ogling the back of my head. I wondered if Travis could also hear the whispers about the fire, the wedding, and just the fact that he and I were walking together after the big scandalous breakup only a tiny campus like Eastern would bother to care about.

“You gonna talk to me, Mare?” Travis asked, nudging her with his elbow.

“Maybe once I stop hating you.”

“You don’t hate me,” he said with a grin.

She frowned. “Well, when you do things like carry her backpack without her even asking, it does make it harder. You’re good to her. Can’t deny that.”

“And that won’t change.”

“It better not,” she said, hugging me goodbye.

Travis held my hand as he cut across the grass, his boots squishing in the wet mud. I hopped over puddles and ruts, glad when my husband finally swooped me up into his arms and carried me.

I laced my fingers behind his neck, unable to stop smiling at the sight of Travis being unable to stop smiling.

“What are you so happy about?” I asked.