Page 114 of For Dear Life

“Huh?”

I’m pissed at how crestfallen Holly is since he’s disgustedly drinking in my appearance and not hers. “Holly isn’t in disguise,” I say pointedly.

“Oh. Right.” Chase turns to her. “Uh. Wow, Holly. That dress is something, huh?”

Although she smiles, I know Holly well enough to see it’s false and that there’s a smidgen of annoyance around her. “Yes. Can you believe this is from HauteHaven? Half off!”

Chase looks as wise as I do about what HauteHaven is. He curls an arm around her waist. “All off would be better,” he says and nips her ear lobe, getting a mouthful of sparkly earring.

Ugh. “How ridiculous,” I say. “That could never happen. No business could profit if giving away their products.”

“What?”

Chase is not the right person for Holly. Not only is he an unpleasant individual who stares at her friend’s visible flesh with all manner of inappropriate thoughts, but he’s also unintelligent and easily confused.

“We need to check on a few things before the doors open to attendees, Violet,” says Holly, regaining some excitement as she pushes her phone into a slim, sequined purse that matches her rainbow hem.

“And Chase is accompanying you?”

“You’re not coming with me?”

“I shall wait for Rowan or Grayson.”

“Which?” asks Chase.

“Whoever gets here first.”

“First in, best dressed, yeah?” He snickers.

“No idea. Best dressed? Grayson probably, since Rowan isn’t the neatest of people.” Chase exchanges a confused look with Holly and opens his mouth, but she shakes her head.

“Don’t wait too long,” she says and gathers her skirts as Chase opens the door again. “And promise me you’re coming, and this isn’t a trick.”

“I am absolutely attending the Spring Ball, Holly. I wouldn’t miss the occasion for the world.” Despite my best smile, Holly still doesn’t look convinced.

39

VIOLET

I stomp my way from Darwin House to the main academy, Rowan matching my pace. He’s barely said a word since he arrived at the room, and I struggle to tell whether Rowan appreciates my efforts to fit into the student body or not, because after one look at my dress he won’t focus anywhere else but my face.

After a particularly hard stomp, water from a puddle splashes the hem of my dress and Rowan chuckles. “Ever the delicate flower, sweet Violet.”

“Be careful, Rowan,” I reply.

He catches my hand and I’m caught off-guard as he tugs me closer. “Do you understand the self-control I’m exercising not to kiss you stupid?”

“Common sense prevails, I see.”

Rowan rubs the back of his fingers along my cheek. “Yeah, but you know I lose my common sense around you.”

“And I see you managed to dress for the occasion,” I say, and disentangle myself. “Although you couldn’t find a comb again?”

I naturally expected Rowan to dress appropriately, but the classic navy-blue suit with crisp, white shirt and a matching tie gives him an air of something different. Neatness, yes, but he’s one step further from boy to man. Not that he appreciates me calling him a boy.

His cool cotton shirt presses against my naked skin as he curls a hand around the back of my head and kisses my forehead. Rowan’s hair tickles, but I’m more aware of the softness of his lips and the sudden judder of my heart. We haven’t spent a lot of time together since the warehouse, but the times we have take me further away from my hesitance.

Not too far. I’m well-aware that Rowan’s heavy breathing is not the exertion used in a kiss, and I’m certainly not ready to deal with the emotions inevitably involved with discovering what’s beneath clothing. Or whatever else is involved in the process.

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