Violet stands, zipping and buttoning her jeans. Then she smooths her hands over her shirt as if nothing happened.
I exhale sharply, dropping my gaze.
Like I didn’t make her come hard on my hand in the dead of night.
I roll my shoulders. My eyes flick to her again.
She’s already moving toward the door.
“Violet,” I say before I can stop myself.
She pauses, turning back to me. “Yeah?”
I hesitate.
I don’t even know what I’m trying to say.
Why it feels too fast, but not enough.
Why I want her to stay, but know she should go.
“I’ll… see you later,” I finish instead.
Her smile deepens slightly. “Yeah,” she says. “You will.”
And then she leaves.
The door clicks shut behind her.
And the house feels different.
Too quiet.
Wrong.
I stare at the space she left behind.
And the worst part?
I’m not trying to forget it.
I’m trying to figure out why I wanted her to stay.
41
DREW
Eating breakfast didn’t help.
Nor did the hot, then cold, shower.
Nothing gets Violet out of my head.
I’ve made a real damn mess of this.
I snatch up my phone and dial my brother.
“Hey Drew. What’s?—”
