Page 41 of Love & Other Disasters

“Jesus, Violet—”

“I never meant to hurt you. Didn’t even know that was possible.”

“You’re a conundrum,” he replied. “Smart, gorgeous, vivacious. And you go toe to toe with me like no one ever. How do you not see your worth?”

Violet set her fork down, the food turned from delicious to a brick in her stomach in a matter of seconds. “Does it even matter anymore?” She looked at his chest, still avoiding his eyes.

“What?”

“You’re my boss. So, we have to put this behind us. I’m just doing this for your closure. Now you need to do something for me.”

“What’s that?”

“You invaded my privacy. You can’t show up like that.”

The waiter returned and refilled the water glasses and checked if they wanted anything else. They sent him away.

J.P. had the decency to look contrite.

“I overstepped and apologize. I realize it was inappropriate.”

“As long as you do. It can’t happen again.”

“I agree, except for one point.”

The waiter slid their check on the table as he walked past; J.P. snatched it.

“When you said it didn’t matter anymore.” He slid from the booth and headed toward the cash register.

Violet didn’t move. What did he mean by that? She caught up to him at the register, and he’d already handed over cash for their meals.

“Ready?” he asked, turning around.

“Sure?” she wasn’t sure if he meant ready to leave the restaurant and this insane evening behind. She was beyond ready for that.

He held the door for her.

“How much was mine?” she asked passing him, the night air blowing her hair around her head, it had cooled a little. “I’ll pay you back.”

“No,” he replied simply and walked toward their cars.

Violet followed. “What do you mean, no?”

“It means I don’t want you to pay me back. Dinner was my treat.”

“We decided that all of this was a mistake. My telling you a fake name and you showing up to my parents’ house. This whole thing is a disaster.”

“And I was punched for my endeavors.”

“You were punched because my sister dates idiots, not karma. And somehow it didn’t even hurt you. Apparently, you get punched in the face by enormous men routinely. You may want to rethink your friends.”

J.P. laughed, leaning back against his car, he grabbed her hand and pulled her close. The light musk of his cologne took her back to sitting next to him at the rooftop bar.

Violet gasped. “We said this was a bad idea.”

“Such a bad idea,” he whispered, their mouths an inch away, breathing the same air. Electricity sizzled between them. Threading a hand into her hair, he pressed his lips to hers.

Stunned, it took Violet a beat, at first timid, then she sank into his kiss, more memories of that night returning. His tongue stroked her bottom lip, and she opened, letting him deepen the kiss. A moan welled up from the recesses of her soul. Her hands wandered in his hair and circled his biceps and shoulders. She had a weakness for toned biceps and shoulders, and Jordan’s were great.

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