Page 34 of You Float My Boat

I should be using Violet as an excuse to get out of Gordon’s study session. It would have provided me with a legitimate reason for introducing her as my girlfriend. But the annoyingly much less selfish side of my brain was reminding me that Gordon had also saved my ass from Evie. Even if he hadn’t realized it.

‘Sure, mate. Count me in. Email me the invite.’

‘Excellent news. Thank you, Charlie.’ He grinned, widely, to the point I don’t think I’d ever seen him so excited, evident given the little hop he made while hitching up his backpack. ‘Bye Violet. I like your hair.’

The pair of us watched in silence as Gordon scurried off through the gates of the square.

‘Interesting guy,’ Violet chuckled.

‘I’m so sorry about that. He’s decent, just super intense. But working with him is the only way I could ensure I wouldn’t be stuck in a group with Evie.’

I didn’t like the way Violet’s smile dropped into a straight line. ‘Ah. Seems like you made the right choice though.’

‘I hope so,’ I grimaced, ‘though he wanted study sessions three times a week, and if you hadn’t been here, I’d definitely have caved.’

Thankfully, the face I’d pulled at the thought of three Gordon sessions a week was enough to make her laugh.

‘Happy to help.’

‘Yeah, if I’d known having a fake girlfriend would provide the perfect excuse to get out of doing anything I didn’t want to, I’d have called you years ago …’ I stopped talking and held her gaze. I wasn’t sure if she was going to respond, or if there even was anything to respond to, but the longer we stared at each other the faster my pulse thudded, until I realized I wasn’t quite smiling any more. It’s hard to smile when you’re concentrating on counting the flecks in the eyes of the girl standing in front of you, along with the freckles on her nose. I cleared my throat before it got awkward.

My attention was drawn to the two coffee cups in her hand as she thrust one at me. ‘Sorry. It’s probably cold now.’

A weird little flip happened in my belly. Or maybe it was my chest. Somewhere, anyway. No one had ever brought me coffee.

‘Did you get me a coffee?’

‘Yup. Black,’ she nodded.

‘Did you know I take it black?’

‘No, just guessed. Thought it was the easiest. I didn’t add butter …’ she grinned.

I frowned. ‘Butter?’ Yuck. The only person I knew who added butter to their coffee was Brooks. ‘Oh … way to ruin good coffee I say.’

‘Yeah, exactly.’

Amazingly the coffee was still warm as I sipped it and watched her softpillowymouth rest around the cardboard lid as she sipped her own, reminding me of why we were here in the first place.

‘Thank you, Violet. For the coffee and coming here … and saving me from extra study sessions.’

She paused, like she was about to say something, but then her gaze flicked over my shoulder. From the way her pupils flared, almost blending into the green of her irises, and her features tensed for a split second, I didn’t need any guesses to figure out what had caught her attention.

‘Um … Evie’s over by the main doors,’ she whispered.

Before I registered what I was doing, I stepped in towards Violet, my free hand snaking around her neck until it cupped the back of her head.

Rule one was no kissing unless appropriate. Did this constitute appropriate? Or would this be crossing a line?

Brooks had already lost his shit over a simple kiss on her cheek, and I still needed to break the news of the one last week. The one I couldn’t stop thinking about.

How hard could not kissing be?

While I pondered on that I pulled her in, until my lips were a hair’s breadth from hers and paused. Everything else silenced around us. If I wasn’t holding my breath, we’d have been sharing oxygen. To anyone passing, we were in an intimate embrace, my lips on hers. But, in reality, we could have been a chasm apart for how they never touched. Yetsomehowthis was way more intimate.

Somehow this was worse than kissing. Like when you take away a sense and all the others are heightened. Because not kissing meant I could feel the way her heart was hammering under my fingertips.

Not kissing meant I could see the way her eyelashes were fluttering against her cheek like a butterfly wing.

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