The Destiny Of Violet And Luke Part 20

"Is that why you gave me that stupid nickname?" he asks, ma.s.saging the back of his neck.

My shoulders lift and fall as I shrug. "Maybe." I set the coffee cup down.

He shakes his head, a small smile touching his lips. "You always find a way to get out of answering questions. It's like you have a gift."

"A gift for avoiding things I don't want to deal with," I say, combing my fingers through my tangled hair, which stinks of booze and pot.

His hand drops to his lap. "What don't you want to deal with?"

"Everything... sometimes life is just too hard and seems pointless to deal with."

Alarm fills his eyes as he misunderstands me. "Violet, I-"

I quickly lean over and cover his mouth with my hand. "Don't think I'm suicidal. I already told you I didn't jump out the window because of that... I'm just trying to tell you what's bothering me in the only way I'm comfortable with. I'm not a fan of getting to know people or letting them into my life. Besides Luke, you're pretty much the only person who I..." I have no idea how to finish that sentence because I'm still trying to figure out what Luke is to me. "You saw on the news... the thing about my parents. Well, after that... after they died, I pretty much didn't have anyone. It was just me and an endless amount of foster families who were pretty much giving me a roof over my head but not much more than that. So I learned to take care of myself and it's been that way for a long time. Just me and my life."

"So you only take care of yourself," he mumbles against my mouth, sounding surprisingly understanding.

I move my hand away from his mouth and slump back. "I had to. It gets hard to deal with, you know, especially when no one sticks around." I'm not sure if I'm making any sense or what point I'm trying to get across. Maybe I'm trying to scare him away or just explain why I can't keep getting involved with him.

"I actually get that," he tells me. "My father bailed out on our family when I was young and now he wants to come back into my life and it's hard."

"I've had a lot of fathers," I say, making air quotes. "And none of them wanted to come back into my life. You're lucky yours does."

"Yeah, maybe." He stares at the parking lot out in front of us. "Violet, if you ever need to talk about stuff... I'm here." I can tell it takes him a lot to say it, which makes it more meaningful.

"I'm not much for talking," I say. "But thanks."

"Still," he turns his head toward me, "know the offer's there."

I nod, unsure how to react to what he's saying-that I have someone. He wants to be my someone."Okay."

He extends his hand toward me and tucks a strand of my hair behind my ear. "We kind of got off the subject of you and I, though, and I'd really like some answers about us, before I lose it... I came very close to losing it last night."

"I know," I say, curious what Luke looks like when he completely loses it. "I have issues with staying focused on tough subjects, though, and it seems you and I are a tough subject."

He starts to smile but then frowns, looking fl.u.s.tered. "Violet, I don't know what to do with us... with any of what happened... what's happening."

I frown in puzzlement. "Why do you have to do something with us at all? Why not just let things be?"

He blinks away from the parking lot and looks at me, eyes intense even for him. "Because of last night. I don't just do that. Mess around and then cuddle for the whole d.a.m.n night."

"Yeah right," I attempt to make a joke to avoid the heaviness between us. "I think we already established that you were a cuddler."

He rolls his eyes, but grins. "Only you."

I s.h.i.+eld my eyes from the sun with my hand. "What does that mean?"

"It means only you have ever been able to get to me like this. Frustrate me and yet still make me want to be around you at the same time." He scoots off the railing and stretches his arms above his head, his s.h.i.+rt riding up and giving me another glimpse of his abs. Then he lowers his arms and reaches his hand out toward me. "I think it's time we did something that we've been needing to do since the first day we met."

"You mean when I kicked you in the face?" I feel my stomach spin as I remember the first night I officially met him and how much things have changed since then, in both good and bad ways. "What did you have in mind?"

He restrains a laugh as I thread my fingers through his and he pulls me to his feet. "I'm going to take you out on a date."

I choke on a laugh, but realize he's being serious. "Oh my G.o.d, you're not joking."

"Of course I'm not joking." He slides the gla.s.s door open. "I don't joke."

We enter the living, which has a pungent smell to it due to the garbage all over the place, and then he shuts the door. The air is musty, probably from everyone smoking, and there's something that looks like wine spilled on the carpet.

"A date?" I ask as he steers me across the living room, kicking some cards and bottles out of the way. "Really? It seems a little formal don't you think? Considering we've kissed, slept together, moved in together, and then all that other stuff you did to me last night."

He presses his hand to his heart, still holding my hand so I touch his chest, too. He keeps it there as he opens the door to our bedroom. "Hey, don't pretend you didn't like it. In fact, I'm pretty sure you were the one who suggested it."

"I did not," I tell him. "But I did like it, which makes dating seem even harder. I mean, what are we supposed to do? Sit and eat dinner while we chat about our lives when everything between us is so intense?"

He wavers with uncertainty as he shuts the bedroom door behind us. "Well, we don't know that much about each other."

"Yeah, we don't," I agree. "But I generally like to keep things that way with people."

He nods in agreement. "I know, so we can either keep going down the road we're on and argue until we both lose it again, get drunk, and fool around. Or we can get to know each other and see where things go. It depends on what you want."

"You're letting me decide?" I ask, shocked.

He catches his breath for a split second. "Yeah... I think am..."

I swallow hard as I feel the pressure of making a decision. "What if I said no? Would you be upset?"

He sits down on the bed, tugging me down with him. "I'll only answer that if you tell me the truth about how you'd feel if I said no. The door swings both ways," he says and a lump forms in my throat as I nod. Now he's the one swallowing hard. "The truth is... yeah, I would be upset. Even though you're a pain in the a.s.s, I like spending time with you and I want to keep doing it."

"You're kind of a pain in the a.s.s, too." I nudge him with my shoulder, the smas.h.i.+ng weight on my chest easing up. "But I like that you've been around for the last few weeks."

He lets out a laugh and then shakes his head. "Wow, that was f.u.c.king hard."

I laugh, too, and it's the strangest, most unfamiliar sound. He joins in and we just laugh for a moment. And it's strange and weird and... well normal.

Then we fall down on the bed, lying side by side, our clasped hands squished between our bodies.

"So what do people generally do when they go out on dates?" I ask as he traces circles on my wrist with his fingers.

His brow arches as his fingers stop moving. "You've never been on one?"

I shake my head, pivoting on my hip to face him. "Nope. Never. I already told you I've never really had anyone in my life and going on dates would be letting people in."

His mouth turns upward into a pleased smile that looks strange on his face, yet stunning. "That's good to know. It means your expectations will be lower."

I roll my eyes and playfully pinch his arm. "Hardy, har, har, you're freaking-"

The brush of his lips silences me, my skin flooding with warmth the longer we remain together. He doesn't try to shove his tongue down my throat, he just lays there, fully content in the simplicity of the moment and I shut my eyes, falling into an easy peace.

Finally, he pulls away. "See simple isn't so bad, right?" he says, caressing my cheekbone with his finger.

I nod, agreeing, because at the moment, it's not about the adrenaline. Or how dangerous I thought Luke was or still think he may be. It's not about how intense he is. Or the escape he gives me. I'm with him because I want to be. I want to be here. And I promise to hold on to that thought all night.

Luke I'm not even sure why I said it. I don't date, yet at the same time I don't keep chasing down the same girl, banging on doors because I think she's f.u.c.king some other dude. Violet's different. I'm different with her. And either I can keep feeling like I'm losing control or I can try to get back my structure and do things the normal, simple way by getting drunk, s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g, and bailing.

We make plans to go out and then I take shower, change into a clean s.h.i.+rt and jeans and clip on my leather band with "redemption" written on it. Then I spend the rest of the day cleaning the house, while she stays in the room, organizing her stuff. I try to keep it light on the drinks for three reasons: (1) I have to be sober enough to drive; (2) I want to be aware of everything that happens, feel it, live it, because if I'm going to do this, be with her, I'm going to make it worth it; and (3) I don't want to have to make her check my insulin and help me with pills because I can't go without my Jack Daniel's for the night.

Although, I'm not going to just quit cold turkey. I stick to beers, and am only on my second one when Seth comes out around three or four o'clock, looking hungover, but at the same time amused.

"Have fun last night?" he asks with speculation in his voice as he gets a jug of orange juice out of the fridge.

"As much as I ever do," I say, moving a box of books no one's bothered to unpack from the floor to the coffee table.

"Yeah, but usually you go after girls who are easy." He twists the cap off the orange juice. "You were going after the vixen last night."

I tear the tape off the top of the box. "I really wish you'd stop calling her that."

He takes a gulp and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. "And you're defending her." He puts the lid back on and opens the fridge door. "If I didn't know better, I'd guess you have feelings for the vixen."

"Her name is Violet," I say defensively as I open the box. "I don't know exactly how I feel about Violet yet, but it's enough that I don't want you to call her that."

That stuns him, his jaw dropping. "Jesus, you're being serious."

I fidget under his judging gaze as I remove a stack of books from a moving box. "Can we just drop it? I'm already confused enough and the last thing I want to do is talk about it."

He puts the orange juice back in the fridge and shuts the door. "So what are you going to do about it?"

I drop a stack of books onto the table. "About what?"

"About your feelings for her."

I shake my head, wis.h.i.+ng he'd drop it. "I'm taking her on a date."

I hear him chuckle under his breath. "Well, that's normal of you."

"Yeah, I thought I'd give it a try. See if I like it."

"I'm sure you will," he teases. He walks into the living room, raking his fingers through his hair. "Okay, so since I know for a fact that you're an idiot when it comes to relations.h.i.+ps and dating, I'm going to give you some advice. Take her somewhere nice and don't try to f.u.c.k her in your truck."

"I'm not a complete moron," I say. "I get that."

He leans against the entertainment center with his arms folded. "I know you're not a moron, but I've witnessed over the last year how much you like to just screw any girl that walks and how most of them are very willing to give you exactly what you want. And normally, in a normal datelike situation, that's not how things work. You have to put effort into it."

I scratch the back of my neck. "How much effort?"

He hitches his thumb toward the bedroom door. "With her, probably a lot."

"I thought you were so sure she was a s.l.u.t," I remind him.

"Well, I might have been a little overdramatic. And Greyson told me last night to lay off her because he thinks she's vulnerable." He raises his hands as he backs away. "I don't get why and he wouldn't tell me, but as a good boyfriend, I'm going to oblige." He pauses at the doorway. "You should make a note of that."

I roll my eyes. "Thanks."

"No problem." He leaves me alone to unpack boxes and the more I do it, the more relaxed I feel about stepping out of my normal comfort zone tonight.

I continue to clean and organize the house until around five o'clock, stopping at the second beer, and by the time I knock on the door to see if Violet is ready, my head is alarmingly clear. Part of me is hoping she'll bail on our date because I'm nervous and I hate it. Everything Seth said is running through my head like a train about to crash. I'm going against everything I've ever believed about relations.h.i.+ps and I'm going into it with a girl that has problems. I've seen the vulnerable side of her that Seth was talking about, the helpless side that lives underneath her toughness, and getting involved with her means taking that on.

Can I do it?

When she opens the door, however, all thoughts of bailing out, terror, and confusion float from my head. "I was going to ask you if you were ready, but I think I have my answer."

"I thought I'd put a little effort into getting ready, seeing how it's my first date and all," she smiles, her red-stained lips ridiculously s.e.xy, along with her hair that runs down her bare shoulders in curls. Her green eyes are framed with black and the short, red and black dress that she's wearing hugs her body so tightly I seriously almost shove her back onto the bed and skip straight to the end of the date. But that sort of defeats the purpose of keeping things simple.

So instead I offer her my elbow and, in response, she laughs.

"I thought you said you weren't a gentleman," she says, looping her arm through mine.

"You're seriously wounding my ego," I joke as I guide her out into the hallway, both of us in way too cheery of a mood for my taste, but I'm blaming mine on my momentary sobriety. "Here I am putting myself out there and you laugh at me."

This only makes her laugh harder. "Put yourself out there. How brave of you."

"It's extremely brave of me, especially with what I'm going up against." I open the door and walk outside, steering her down the stairs with me.

The sky is a pale pink as the sun sets behind the mountains. The air is warm, but I'm nervous and it's strange. I don't know what to do other than keep going forward, with her.

Deciding to keep the whole gentleman thing going, I open the door for her. This only makes her laugh more as she climbs in, not bothering to hold her dress down and I get a glimpse of her a.s.s, barely covered by a thin piece of lacy fabric. Clenching my hand, I shut the door and hop into the truck, telling myself to calm down. That that's not what tonight's about. I start the truck and back up as she begins going through the tape collection in my truck, helping herself to my stuff. She completely ruins my organization, but I let her be, and it's complicated how easy it is.

" 'My f.u.c.k Tape.' " She reads the label with humor in her expression as she glances up at me and covers her mouth with her hands, laughing under her breath.

I grab the tape and toss it on the floor beneath my seat. "I should probably throw that one away."

"Why?" She slouches back against the door. "Are you planning never to f.u.c.k again?"

I roll my tongue along my teeth, my restraint to not f.u.c.k her in the truck right now crumbling. "That all depends."

"On what?"

Don't say it. "On how tonight goes."

"So are you saying that you're only going to f.u.c.k me if things go well," she says biting back a grin. "Or that if tonight doesn't go well, you'll go back to f.u.c.king every s.k.a.n.k in a short dress."

I shake my head, my body vibrating with the urge to pull the truck over, throw her down on the seat, and do what I'm good at. "You know, it's saying things like that that made me think you weren't a virgin."

She rests her elbow on the seat back and rests her head against her hand, playing with her hair as she continues to chew on her bottom lip. "Maybe I only say them to get you all riled up so I can see that intense look in your eyes."

I grip the steering wheel tighter as I turn my truck onto the busy street that runs alongside our apartment. Streetlights s.h.i.+ne down on the sidewalks, houses, and trees that border the road. The shallow mountains are shadows in the distances and the city lights flicker in the heart of the town. I drive in that direction as I turn up the music, unable to think of a response to her blunt remark.

"Oh, did Mr. Stoically Aloof just give up?" She twirls a lock of her hair around her finger with the most beautiful real smile on her lips that I've ever seen and it makes letting her get the upper hand worth it.