Just when I’m mounting my bike, Violet hurries outside wearing a jacket and a scarf. Her cheeks are flushed by the cold as she approaches me.
Something about this girl looks otherworldly. It’s not only the blue-teal color of her eyes or the delicate features on her face.
It’s everything—from the way she carries herself to the way she looks at me.
It’s been even more prominent lately, and I can’t keep my eyes off of her.
“What?” I ask. “Did I forget something?”
She hesitates, her lips parting. “No, I just…”
“What?”
“I thought you looked odd, especially while you were typing on your phone, so I wanted to make sure you’re okay,” she blurts out, staring down at her feet as she finishes.
Fuck.
Fucking hell.
When has anyone ever wanted to make sure I was okay? Even my mother didn’t do that, let alone Regis.
This girl is demolishing me, piece by each agonizing piece, and I can’t seem to fight it.
Maybe I don’t want to fight it.
“What if I weren’t?” I ask like a dick. “Is there anything you could do about it?”
“I could try to cheer you up.”
“And how would you do that?”
“Give you a blowjob?” she whispers.
“Fucking hell, sweetheart. You’re trying to get me hard as I’m about to make the most annoying journey of my life?”
“No. Just trying to help.”
“Thanks.”
She blushes, and the view makes me glare. “Why were you shy when Kane praised your food?”
“I wasn’t shy. I was just happy.” She touches her wrist. “It really felt nice to have a proper dinner with so many people I care about.”
“Right. Including Pres and Kane.”
“They’re your best friends last I checked.” She narrows her eyes. “You’re kind of over-the-top possessive.”
“Am I?”
She chuckles. “You totally are.”
I stroke her cheek, and she leans into my touch. “It’s because of you, sweetheart. What the fuck are you doing to me?”
“I don’t know, but I like it.” She pauses. “Despite everything.”
“Everything?”
“Mmm,” she whispers, “do you have to go? I made the cookies you loved the other time.”