Page 145 of American Beauty

Violet slides into the booth next to me, bumping my shoulder with hers as she grins across the table at Elias.

“You’re about to be ruined forever.” Her voice drips with flirtation.

I don’t need to turn my head to know she’s turning on the sparkle. She’s so obvious, she’s leaving a trail of glitter across the table.

Vi rattles off a list of appetizers and entrees to the server. I order some of my favorites, and Elias grins like he’s ready to eat whatever we throw at him.

The table fills up, one plate after another. A heavy cast-iron skillet lands in front of us, steaming with creamy shrimp and grits, the buttery sauce pooling around the edges.

Next comes a wide bowl of she-crab soup, the smell so rich it makes my stomach growl out loud.

A basket of hush puppies follows, golden and hot, a tiny pot of honey butter melting faster than we can slather it on.

By the time the last plate drops, every inch of the table is covered with bowls, skillets, and baskets balanced on top of each other like a game of edible Tetris.

Elias digs in like he hasn’t eaten in a week, groaning around every bite.

“Zero regrets,” he says, grabbing a hush puppy and taking a huge bite, eyes closing like he’s having a religious experience.

Violet laughs, resting her chin in her hand as she watches him eat.

“So… you like Lowcountry food, huh?”

Elias waves a forkful of grits in the air like he’s delivering a sermon. “This is the best thing that’s ever happened to me. No offense to the rest of my life.”

I lean back, sipping my drink, watching them banter across the table. Violet is shining in a way I haven’t seen in a long, long time.

It’s subtle—the way she leans in just a little closer when Elias talks, the way her smile lingers a beat longer than usual—but it’s there.

That spark. That bright, ridiculous, hopeful thing that’s been missing from her for too long.

And Elias…he’s eating it up. Every glance, every grin. Like he already knows he’s in trouble and he’s not even trying to fight it.

It’s sweet. It’s fast. And it feels good.

After everything Violet’s been through—all the heartbreaks and dead ends—watching her light up like this makes something inside me ache in the best way.

Elias glances around. “Excuse me for a moment, ladies. Be right back.”

He slides out of the booth, tossing his napkin in his seat before heading toward the back of the restaurant.

The second he’s out of earshot, Violet leans into me, grabbing my wrist like she’s about to deliver a life-or-death confession.

“Mags! My ovaries went into overdrive the second I saw him.” She is wide-eyed, dead-ass serious.

I choke on my sweet tea, coughing as I laugh.

“Violet!”

“I’m so fucking serious,” she says, flailing a hand. “I think I got pregnant with his little Samoan baby just by standing next to him. And I’m not even mad about it.”

I laugh harder, doubling over a little in the booth. God, it’s good to laugh like this. To be like this.

But honestly? I get it. Alex and Elias come from the same mold. I remember how my heart sped up when I first saw my big guy.

Violet leans closer, lowering her voice to a whisper even though Elias is nowhere near.

“Will you be mad at me if I fuck him?” She looks so serious that she might as well be asking for a kidney. “Mags, I really want to fuck him.”

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