“All right I’m in.”

Violet

I’m trying to keep it together and not run out into that road. Cars crawl by at a snail’s pace so it wouldn’t do much good throwing myself in front of them anyway. But everything’s crashing over me; opening my eyes to an unfamiliar room, Luke witnessing me spastically waking up, and the fact I’m officially alone in the world. I don’t even have Preston anymore. The one person I could ever consider family is gone and now I’m standing out in front of a building, not a single person in sight. All I want to do is pick a fight, stand on the ledge of a tall building, drown in a dark pool of water. Push myself to the brink of death and maybe this time just let it take me over. Maybe it’s time. To let go. Give up. Because I’m so God damn tired of struggling to hold onto life.

I tug my hands through my tangled hair and glance around the grassy area surrounded by trees, searching for something dangerous that might give me the numbness I so desperately need. My gaze scales up to the roof of the loft dorm building, and I angle my chin up. The sun stings at my eyes but I don’t blink as I observe the thin trim of the roof. How do I get up to it?

“Violet.” Luke’s voice flickers the tension inside me down a notch, enough for me to stop thinking about the roof.

I lower my eyes to see him walking across the grass and the tension pretty much fades away. He’s wearing black shorts and he’s got a shirt on, covering up his chest and tattoos and he has that leather band on his wrist that he always wears, the one that says “redemption.” I open my mouth to say something to him that will maybe put an end to this little attachment I’m developing toward him, but for once I can’t find anything to say.

“Hey,” he says when he reaches me beneath the canopy of the trees.

“That’s three ‘heys’ in the last twenty minutes.” I force a smile, but it hurts.

He smiles, but his looks strained, too. “I guess that’s my go-to word.”

“I guess so.”

The dorm building’s doors swing open, the windows reflecting in the sunlight. Seth and I think his name is Greyson walk out, laughing about something. Seth narrows his eyes at me and shoots me a dirty look.

Luke stuffs his hands into the pockets of his shorts. “So, I have to tell you something.”

“Okay…” I try not to get nervous, but I do, which makes me want to run, but I don’t because I want to be near him.

“It’s about the apartment.” He pulls his hand out of his pocket and massages the back of his neck tensely. “Seth and Greyson were going to go to Seth’s place for the summer, but some stuff happened and now they’re going to stay here… and they want me to share a place with them on Elm.” His arm falls to the side as he waits for me to respond.

As it clicks, my face falls, but I quickly pick myself up and my fake smile that hides the crushing disappointment rises up right on cue. “Elm’s a nice place.”

“Yeah, it is and I think Greyson knows the dude who owns it so he’s giving them a furnished one for cheap.”

“Sounds awesome.” Still smiling, all rainbows and sunshine even though I feel like a fucking rain cloud on the inside.

“Yeah.” He glances over at the parking lot where Seth and Greyson are climbing into a sleek black car parked near the front door. “So I was thinking,” he looks back at me, “That you could stay with us, too.”

My heart skips a beat, but I shove it down. “That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard, but thanks for the offer.”

“More ridiculous than panda bears giving you drugs,” he jokes but then sighs. “Look, I know Seth’s a little intense, but I asked him and he said he was okay with it.”

“I don’t care if he’s okay with it,” I tell him, backing across the grass. “I’m not a charity case. I can find my own place to live.” I spin on my heels and start walking across the grass, my blood pressure rising with each step. Stop it. Stop. This isn’t right. I shouldn’t be feeling this upset over the fact that I’m walking away from some guy or that he just ruined our plan to live together. I never wanted to in the first place, yet my inner voice is laughing at me, loud and shrill. I feel like running, but I don’t. I take even strides, one by one, like I’m in no hurry to get anywhere.

“Violet wait.” Luke chases after me and grabs my arm, jerking me to a stop. “I know you’re upset but—”

“I’m not upset.” I laugh, but it sounds sharp and off pitch. “I just need to figure out where I’m going to stay.”

He reels me in toward him by the arm. “Just stay with us.”

“I’m good, but thanks.” I tug back, but not hard enough to get me anywhere. Instead I’m drawn closer and closer to him, his brown eyes blazing like embers beneath the sunlight.

“Stay.” Is all he says as the space between us disappears. I can feel the heat from his body and maybe my own as he lures me closer until our chests brush. Jesus, I think my nipples just got hard. “It’ll work out… we can share a room and I—”

“You’re going to share a room with me? Seriously.” I shake my head. “Didn’t you get enough of that this morning?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean my crazy wake-up ritual. I wake up like that every morning.”

He scans my face for something, but he’s not going to find it, whatever it is. “I can handle a cranky Violet. I’ve been doing it for weeks.”

“Yeah, but you get breaks,” I say, confused. I don’t get why he’s being so nice and determined to help me. It doesn’t make sense, not unless he wants something. “This time you wouldn’t. I’d be there twenty-four/seven, while you’re sleeping, eating, taking a shower.”

He stifles a grin as his hand slides up my arm to my shoulder. “If you get too bad, then I’ll leave the house for a while,” he says and I get a whiff of vodka on his breath.

“You’re drunk.” It’s making sense now, why he wants to help me. “I get it now.”

“First off, I’m not drunk. I barely took a swallow and trust me I have a high fucking tolerance for alcohol,” he tells me. “And second, what do you get?”

“Why you’re determined to help me.”

“I’m not determined to help you. I just want you to come live with me… us.” He winces at his own words, but doesn’t look away from me, our eyes bond. “Come live with me.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” I say as his gaze flicks to my mouth.

“Why not?” He rubs his lips together as he moves his hand from my shoulder and his thumb grazes my bottom lip.

“Because I’m crazy and intense.” I swallow the lump in my throat as my stomach flutters. “You’ll get sick of me. I promise.”

“So am I.” He’s fixated with my lips, tracing his thumb back and forth across them and it feels weird and wonderful and thrilling. “Jesus…” he breathes, seeming torn, an array of emotions flashing across his face, but in the end there’s only conquest and confusion, a strange combination.

Before I can even take my next breath, he’s leaning in and his lips are brushing mine. My breath is stolen and tossed aside somewhere, my legs instantly turning to rubber. I’ve been kissed plenty of times by people I hate, dislike, felt no connection with at all. This is different… even more so than in his truck… this is… stimulating. Slow and sensual… everything is slow, even my heart rate. I feel a sinking feeling drift through my body down to my toes as I slide my hands up his lean arms and grip into his shoulders to keep from collapsing to the ground. He holds my weight in his arms, again making me feel safe. I open my mouth and let his tongue slide in deeply as I press my chest against his.

“This is so much better sober…” he mumbles and I realize he does remember the kiss in his truck. He lets out a throaty groan, his grasp on my shoulder tightening as his other hand tugs at my waist, crushing me against him. Our chests collide, our body heat mixing. Everything that I’d been feeling when I walked out here is gone and is replaced by this slow burn. It only amplifies when his hand glides up my back and tangles through my hair. I hate my hair played with, but as he tugs on it roughly, it makes me want to cry out in pleasure. The idea that he could do anything to me at the moment feels so God damn invigorating. That he could keep kissing me like he is. Devour me. Have sex with me. Whatever he wants and I don’t know him enough to know what that is. It’s terrifying and thrilling and it’s making me crave more.

I slip my hand up his back and push my palm against him, forcing him closer to me.

“Violet,” he groans, dragging his teeth across his my bottom lip and gently nibbling on it. “I think… I think…” He starts to pull away.

“Don’t stop.” My voice sounds a little more pleading than I planned and starts to jerk me back to reality, but then he lets out this low growl and his lips literally smash into mine, so forcefully I swear to God I’m going to have a bruise.

A wonderful, amazing stillness I’ve never experienced before fills my body as he backs me up against a tree and aligns our bodies together. He kisses me fiercely, pulling on my hair, gripping at my waist to the point that it stings. His hand starts to glide up my body, searing hot even through the fabric of my shirt. When he reaches my bra, he softly grips at my breast, gently caressing it before moving his hand to the top of my collarbone. I gasp as he folds his fingers around the base of my neck, not tight enough to hurt me, but enough that there’s pressure. I’m invigorated. Stunned by how my body responds, not with need, but with satisfaction. Blissful, confounding, serenity. More than when I’m standing on the edge of a building, drowning in water, stepping out in front of cars. I want more. Need more. I clutch him, digging my nails into his skin and it elicits a groan from his lips.