“Watch out. Asshole, two o’clock,” Brit mutters in passing, so of course, I glance over. My heart squeezes, because there he is, looking way too good as usual, and I wonder why the universe can’t grant me a little bit of karma. Nothing big. Just give him a bad haircut, or a breakout, or even just an ill-fitting shirt.Somethingthat doesn’t make me look at him and hurt this much.
There’s no sign of his problematic parents quite yet, but I don’t doubt they’re close behind, Kathleen eager as ever to torture the waitstaff for her Sunday ritual and Nathan content to ignore it. I expect Landon to wait by the hostess stand, he’s a little early for their standing time, but instead, he walks straight past Kirsten, through the grouping of tables, and right toward me. I’m not sure what to do, so I stand there, watching him in disbelief, waiting for him like an idiot.
Consequences be damned, he halts right in front of me, and I catch a whiff of his cologne. I wish I hated the smell, but as usual, it beckons me closer, and I hate myself more.
“Can I please speak with you?” he murmurs, those dark eyes pleading with me for a moment of my time. But he had all the moments in the world to tell me the truth, and he didn’t.
“I’m working,” I say, glancing around self-consciously. Luckily, everyone’s focused on themselves and paying us no mind. Everyone except Brit, of course, who’s hovering close, glaring at Landon in a way that should scare him, ready to run interference at the drop of a hat.
“Five minutes,” he says, his voice soft and enticing.
“I can’t. I have tables,” I say, but I hear the reluctance in my tone. Why is it so damn hard to say no to that voice and that face and those eyes? It never used to be like this. I used to hate his guts.
Did you ever really hate him, though?
I brush away the thought.
“It doesn’t have to be right now,” he says quickly. “I’ll wait as long as you need.”
I sigh, staring off across the room as I debate my response. “What could you possibly have to say to me, Landon?”
“Everything, Violet. I haven’t even scratched the surface of the things I need to tell you.”
It’s his eyes that convince me. Those dark irises are more open and honest than I’ve ever seen them, watching me with a hopefulness that tugs at my soft side, the one I’ve been trying to protect.
“Then you’ll have to wait for my shift to be over,” I say, even though I know it’s a bad idea and he doesn’t deserve it. It’s not like I expect him to wait around, anyway.
His eyes spark, and I can tell he’s trying hard to mask his pleasure. “Great. I’ll wait in the car.”
I narrow my eyes at him because waiting around and killing time isn’t exactly Landon’s strong suit. Hehateswasting valuable moments when he could be doing something productive. “My shift doesn’t end for another two hours.”
He doesn’t falter. His eyes remain determined. “Like I said, I’ll be waiting in the car.”
I frown and glance at the door. “What about your family?”
“They’re not coming today,” he reveals. “I thought you needed a break.”
I blink at him as he walks away. Did he mean…did he convince his family not to come on account of me? I’m not sure how to feel about that, other than completely relieved, of course.
“This is a shit idea, Violet,” says Brit, coming up beside me.
“Trust me, Brit. I’m aware.”
She sighs. “Just…be careful, Sunshine.”
“I know. I’ll try.”
The shift moves at a molasses pace.
I find myself wandering toward the window every fifteen minutes, searching the damp parking lot for Landon’s car. I find it every time, idling in the rain, headlights glowing, Landon waiting in the driver’s seat just like he said he would. I’m not sure what to think of that.
When it’s finally over, I’m no closer to convincing myself I’m doing the right thing. I just have to accept the decision, I guess. Trust my gut and stand my ground if necessary.
Repeating that in my head, I duck through the light drizzle outside and knock on the passenger window to Landon’s car. He unlocks the door, and I slide into the interior, shivering a little from the rain. Turning in my seat, I raise my eyebrows at him. “Well? You wanted to talk.”
“Please just listen to what I have to say,” he says, his voice low and urgent. His eyes hold mine, and though I want to look away, I don’t. “Then, when I’m done, you can hate me all you want.”
I purse my lips, silencing the voice in my head telling me that this is a bad idea. “Fine.”
