I start to say stop, but then his finger slips inside the edge of my panties and the words are stolen out of my lips by the startling, yet amazing tingles coursing through every part of my body. I feel like I’m going to burst and the sensation only increases when he slips a finger inside me and then another. I cry out in bliss as he starts moving them, my hips bucking against his hand, my body seeking more. He kisses me passionately before his mouth delves downward, his hand leaving my arms, freeing me from his hold.

I keep my arms above my head though, my eyes shut as I gasp for air. His other hand shoves my top up. He yanks my bra down and my nipples spring free, seconds later his mouth covers my breast. I’m gone. Drowning in a sea of desire and alcohol, falling helplessly as I lose control and my body ignites. I cry out again as I dig my nails into my palms, seeking a release from the adrenaline rush I’ve been craving all night. I feel myself come apart, falling into helplessness, losing control over everything as everything inside me breaks apart and my mind drifts away. When I return back to reality, I’m exhausted, drained, but content. Luke’s no longer sucking on my nipple, but lying beside me with his elbow propped against the mattress and his head resting against his hand. He doesn’t say anything, just stares down at me, his eyes glossy, his face crammed with uncertainty, like he’s unsure—or maybe even regrets—what just happened.

“I’m sorry I had my phone off when you called me,” he says quietly. “I always turn my phone off when I’m playing poker.”

I want to tell him why I was upset, but even drunk, the idea of opening Pandora’s box stuffed with my past doesn’t seem like a good idea.

“I’m sorry I took over the room.” I offer him a tired smile.

A small smile graces his lips. “It’s fine. I was sort of intentionally sleeping out on the couch anyway, because it felt like you needed your space.”

“I thought I did… because that’s what I usually do…” I trail off, blinking through my tiredness. “But I’m not so sure anymore.”

He’s quiet for a moment. “If you need me… then I’m here.”

I take breath as he reaches over and then brushes his fingers along my ribs. He pulls my shirt back down, covering me up. It feels like the nicest thing anyone’s done for me and I feel like hugging him, but my arms are too tired.

I yawn, the drowsiness of the alcohol taking over me. “I think I’m going to go to bed,” I mumble as I flip over and practically crawl up to my pillow and collapse onto my stomach. He sits up on the edge of the bed and stares at the door. “You can go out there if you want.” I yawn again. “But I wish you’d stay here… with me…” I can barely register what I’m saying, but all I know is that when I’m in his arms, it seems like all the bad is gone.

Luke

I have never done that before. Never gave a girl everything and took nothing in return. I’d always been selfish and that was kind of the point. I wanted to be selfish instead of being walked all over.

After Violet falls asleep, telling me she wishes I’d stay with her, I sit on the bed with my head in my hands as I decide what to do. I’m seriously considering lying down with her, holding her, falling asleep because I’m exhausted. Mentally. But I can’t sort through my thoughts filled with the way she moaned and how all I wanted to do was make her moan again. Then she came and the look in her eyes was so content, so sexy, so amazing. There was so much inside emotion in her at the moment—pleasure, desire, want, need—and it was fascinating to watch because she never shows anything. It gave me the biggest hard on I’ve ever had. The next step would have been to fuck her, take back the control, get what I want out of it, yet I couldn’t. She’s drunk. I’m drunk. It’s not right and I don’t want to do that to her—that’s not how I want things to be between us.

Shaking my head, I get up and go to the door, leaving the room and her sleeping on the bed because I’m not sure I can contain myself. I feel bad for leaving, but at the same time I’m too restless to stay.

The card game is still going on, but a lot of the people have cleared out of the apartment. “Have fun?” Seth asks with speculation in his eyes as he looks up at me from his cards. Greyson has his arm around him, examining his cards. When he peers up at me, there’s a concerned look in his eyes that makes me wonder if he knows something about Violet, like maybe what happened to her parents.

“As much as I ever do.” I round the table, noting Jonah and Kenzie have bailed, and head for the fridge. I grab a bottle of tequila and swig it down, over and over again, letting the burn sink in, hoping to regain the person I used to be—the one I built so I could avoid being owned and controlled by someone, like my mom used to do all the time to me. But can’t I find him anymore. I’m turning into someone else who I don’t think I like unless I’m kissing Violet, and then it seems okay to be this way, letting go, giving her what she wants, not being the one in control, the kind of guy who does stuff for other people, who lets people into his fucked-up life.

I want Violet more than I’ve ever wanted anyone. I want everything I’ve been avoiding since I turned sixteen and I no longer care that I’m not thinking just about myself. I want Violet so bad it burns under my skin fiercer than the alcohol burns at my throat.

At the end of the seemingly endless swallow, I still feel the overpowering urge to go back to the room—to her—so I do. I climb into the bed and nuzzle up against her, holding on to her, lying beside her, like she asked me to do. But I’m not even sure who I do it for.

I sleep with a girl for the very first time and the surprising thing is I enjoy it for a moment until I shut my eyes. Then, as usual, the past catches up with me.

* * *

It’s dark outside, really late, but I can hear the boom of fireworks going off as they sprinkle the sky. My room is dark, but I can’t sleep because I can hear my mom banging around in the kitchen. I’m about to get up and see what she’s doing, because she’s been acting really weird lately, taking all these pills and snorting things up her nose. But then I hear my door creak open and someone walks inside.

“Lukey, I need you.” She strokes my head as I lay in bed, pretending to be asleep. “Wake up.”

I open my eyes to the moonlight glowing through my room, the sounds of fireworks exploding in the distance, and my mother sitting on the edge of my bed.

“What do you want?” I ask, rubbing my tired eyes.

She stands up and wanders over to the window, staring outside at the backyard. “I think we’re being watched.”

I sit up. “What?”

She turns around and holds her hand out to me. “Come with me, sweetie.”

I shake my head and let out a frustrated breath, but finally, I get to my feet. She sometimes acts weird like this and it’s annoying, but tonight she seems more intense, her breathing really loud, her hand gripping mine too tightly as she hauls me out of the room. She drags me into the living room and we sink down onto the couch wrapped in plastic. I wait in fear for what she’s going to do next, noticing the blood on her shirt and hands for the first time. Finally, she wraps her arms around me and starts to cry.

“I did something wrong,” she sobs, rocking back and forth.

“Please, just let me go, Mom,” I practically beg, because her grip is hurting me.

“Lukey, I can’t let you go. I need you.” She hugs me tighter and there’s blood on her clothes. It’s warm and feels wrong as it seeps into my clothes.

“Mom,” I say, my voice trembling as I feel so weak inside because I don’t want her holding me right now but I’m not strong enough to get away. Everything feels wrong. Her. Me. The blood on her clothes. “Why do you have blood on your clothes?”

She sobs hysterically, pressing her cheek against the top of my head. She starts singing under her breath, one of the songs she wrote for my dad when he was leaving her.

“Lean into me. Lean into me. Take. Help me. I need to understand. Help me. I can’t do this without you.” She sings it over and over again, all night, refusing to let me go, and I feel smaller and smaller with each word until I’m so small I barely exist.

Chapter 15

Violet


I wake up the next morning, not gasping for the first time, but my head is throbbing and my dry throat burns with the need to hack. I start to get up to go to the bathroom, when I realize I’m weighed down by an arm. I roll over and find Luke sleeping beside me in the bed with his arm draped over me. Well, this is… interesting.

I sift through my memories, wincing at the protesting pain, and slowly it comes back to me in sharp images. I wince at one in particular, Luke’s fingers sliding inside me, but then as I remember how it felt, my stomach somersaults, and I remember how content I felt. I could try to blame it on the alcohol—it wouldn’t be the first time—but with the positive way my body responds to the memories, I’d only be bullshitting myself.

Lying beside him isn’t so bad, either, which is confusing to accept. All these years, never letting anyone get that close to me, never feeling anything for anyone on a deep level. I don’t know what to do with myself. Give in to the feeling or bail out.

Carefully, I lift his arm off me and duck out from under it. Then I climb over him and leave him sleeping in the room. I need to clear my head. Breathe. Think about what all this means and decide what I’m going to do when he wakes up.