“A couple of them, yes, may have some issues. But they’re just aggressive lovers.”
“I don’t know anybody else like that,” she said with a smirk before she lifted her glass. “How are your parents anyway? The farm?”
“All good,” I said. “Dad remains equally worried about my career and the sheep.”
“You really do come from a long line of romantics,” she teased. “Your mom liked to knit, so your dad used his hockey money to buy her a wool farm.”
“Oh, they’re sickening,” I agreed. “It’s also alpacas now because they have even better wool. ESPN came out over thesummer to do a special on them. I had to be there. It was a whole thing. It’ll air when the season starts.”
Violet beamed. “Your parents are sweet. And I’m a little sad that now the whole country will get to see Farm Boy Colton.”
I laughed. “Yeah, they made me shear a sheep. Which, you know, I can do, but it was weird to do a chore for the camera?”
Violet’s jaw dropped. “Oh, buddy. Your stock’s about to go way up. Might have to teach me your fighting techniques.”
My cheeks burned and I licked my upper teeth. “You’d fight for me?”
She avoided the question, looking at her nails. They had to be kept short for her lab work and she held them out. “You think I can sharpen these stubs into talons?”
My stomach bottomed out at her smile. Her fucking smile. When I saw her a few nights before, she was at an all-time low, maybe worse than the times she left me. Here, she was in her element: relaxed, joking around, unstoppable.
I shook my head. “I’d never bet against you, Vi. You’re a force.”
SEVENTEEN
VIOLET
OCTOBER | COLUMBUS, OHIO
Coltonand I walked side by side in Columbus’s artsy district, the Short North, sampling our waffle cones, chit-chatting, and window shopping. Colt was quick to laugh, quick to smile, quick to scrunch up his nose when he giggled. Men rarely giggle, but Colton did. We weren’t even talking about anything in particular, just riffing off each other’s nonsense. I didn’t realize how many knots had developed in my stomach until they were gone, lost to Colt talking so much his ice cream cone dripped.
We stopped in front of a plant shop, my eyes taking in the spectrum of green from all the tropical plants inside.
“You wanna go in?” Colt asked.
I scoffed. “You saw my apartment. The last thing I need is another plant to take care of.”
He shrugged. “Come on. There’s need and there’s want. I don’t need to eat ice cream, but it’s delicious.”
“Speak for yourself. I need ice cream.”
Again that eye-crinkling, upper lip lifting smile creased hisface. “You need a new plant too. My treat. Come on. Let’s go in.”
I grabbed his wrist and tugged him away from the door. “My other plants will yell at me if I bring another one home.”
“Then it’s your fault for raising mean plants! They’re cliquey!”
We came face to face and his wrist was still in my hand. I let it drop. “Sorry.”
Colt’s lips were parted and he wasn’t breathing. “Yeah, it’s no big deal.”
His eyes drifted down to my lips and his expression softened. Oh god. This wasn’t part of the plan. I set the friends barrier, but why did I do that? Was this self-preserving or self-destructive?
No. I made the decision when I was of sound mind. I had my reasons. I had to stick to them. It wasn’t just about me. It was about protecting Colton from my unreliable brain too. I didn’t want to scold him by bringing it up, but I was saved by the bell.
Or, I guess, the cone.
A drip of ice cream was headed right for his fingers.
