The Lair

by Lisina Coney

My shift finishes in five minutes, so maybe if I stay really quiet and stand really still, he’ll forget I’m here.

That grouchy face makes him look handsome but not approachable, like an awe-inducing wild animal.

Travis is standing at the door, his eyes on me. He doesn’t go back inside until I drive away.

And then he says, “I would never yell at you.”

“No one’s gonna mess with you.” “You don’t know that.” “I’ll break his goddamn legs if he so much as thinks about it.”

Never in a million years did I think I would be making friendship bracelets with my boss at three in the morning, yet here we are.

“Careful, boss man. I might start thinking you tolerate me after all.” “I more than tolerate you, Allie.”

“Careful how you speak to my girl.” The air whooshes out of my lungs. My girl. Me… Travis’s girl?

I’m trying. I’m really trying. But it’s like my boss—this older, grumpy, ex-military man with an intimidating exterior but a heart of gold—wants me to fall in love with him.

“You’re okay,” that gruff voice says in a gentle tone I’d never heard from him before. “You were so fucking brave, Allie. I’m proud of you.”

“Shh….” He buries his fingers in my hair. “You’re safe now, sweetheart. I’m not gonna let anything happen to you.”

“You’re moving in with me.”

And for the first time, I wonder if there’s a chance—a very tiny one—that Travis feels the same for me.

And when I hear the shower running, I only imagine Travis naked twice.

The next thing I feel are his warm lips on my forehead, pressing a lingering kiss to my skin. “Good night, sweetheart. Thanks for taking care of my grumpy ass.”

“All right, all right. You want some alone time with Allie-girl, I get it.” My cheeks heat up. “Oh, that’s⁠—” “Damn right I do.”

“You are. Thank you for opening up to me,” I tell him. “You’re my favorite person, Travis.”

“And you are my weakness, Allie.”

“You have no idea, do you?” One of his hands hikes its way up, up, up, until the weight of his fingers settles on the nape of my neck. Fingers that start kneading my skin softly, as if he’s scared to break me. My lips part at the possessive gesture. “You have no idea what you do to me. Do you, sweetheart?”

“You don’t want me to go on a date?” “Only if it’s with me.”

“You have no fucking idea,” he whispers between kisses, his voice as hungry as his touch. “How badly I need you. Like the fucking sun.”

“You shouldn’t be here,” I mutter. “I’m here because I can’t fucking stand being in my own house knowing you’re not there.”

“I love you,” I breathe out. “I love you so much, Travis. I’m ready for this. For us. I’ll have bad days, and I can’t promise I’ll be happy and cheery all the time, but I’m done waiting. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, and only you.”

And Travis? He shows me every day that I matter. That I deserve to take up space. That I’m lovable. For me, that’s enough.

“I asked you how you’d felt about changing your last name. Remember?” I nod. He starts caressing the skin on my hand with his calloused thumb as I ask him, “Why have you been thinking about that?” “Because I know last names mean nothing to you, but I still wanted to ask you if you’d take mine.”

“Because of your beard,” I explain. “Also, your height. You’re enormous. Grouchy, too, which is kind of like a bear—one look is enough to know that getting close to them may not be the best idea.” “And yet here you are. Right in the bear’s lair.” I smile. “I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.”