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First published January 31, 2017
Zeke Daniels isn’t just a douchebag; he’s an asshole.
I know she’s selfless, but only to a point. Kindhearted. Quiet. Inexperienced. Stronger than either of us recognize. Too goddamn trusting. Too goddamn sunny for my gloom and doom. Too light for my dark. Too good for my bad. Too everything.
Petite, I gauge her height at around five foot five—tiny compared to my six feet. Wide hazel eyes. Thick blonde hair so pale it looks white, falling down over her shoulder in an intricate, wholesome braid. My gaze immediately falls to the neckline of her well-worn Iowa sweatshirt for an appraisal of her chest.
Bummer, must suck.
Obviously, since she’s wearing a V-neck shirt, I check out her rack.
Or lack thereof.
“I don’t know why you’re holding your chest like that. You have almost no boobs,” I say it in an effort to be helpful, because seriously, the girl has no tits.
He throws his hands up. “Friends. I didn’t know you did friends, let alone friends with tits.” This isn’t the right moment to point out that Violet doesn’t have any tits, and it’s not something I’d want to point out to him anyway.
Her boobs might not be enough to fill the palm of my large hand, but they’re perfect.
"He swears too much. He isn’t nice. He isn’t sweet. He isn’t kind. Or generous with words. Or affection. But he’s reliable. Dependable. And he was there for me tonight."
"She is everything on the inside that she appears to be on the outside. Sweet. Compassionate. Kind. And beautiful— heart, body, and mind. Violet DeLuca is my opposite in every sense of the word."
“I love you. You’re my family Violet, and if I have to buy a ticket, hop on a plane, and take you to see yours, then I’m going to do it. I love you.” His voice cracks, barely above a whisper. “I would do anything for you. I want to take care of you.”
example one) Zeke fiddling with the piece of paper she wrote her number on and staring at Violet’s handwriting and pretending like he wasn’t already fascinated by her: “I stare down at Violet’s neat, tidy handwriting. The loop on the V in her first name. The blue, fine-tipped marker lines, bold and crisp.”
example two) always saying she smells like sunshine, rainbows and just all the good shit in the world: “You always smell so good, Vi. Like sunshine and shampoo and flowers. Violets.”
example three) him buying her the bracelet from the auction where he overheard her say how pretty it was but she couldn’t afford it.
example four) him trying to be a better person, not just for her, but for everyone else because of her.
example five) Zeke taking her to make pottery on the anniversary of her parents deaths bcos she was sad... despite his openly articulated hatred for pottery classes throughout the entire goddam book. bitch had a vendetta against some mugs but he went for Violet🥺😌
example six) he nearly beats a bitch up for making fun of Violet’s stutter, but stops when she asks him to— we love a man who is willing to throw down but still respects our wishes💅🏻
example seven) his genuine fear that he would never be good enough for Violet: ”I have no idea how to be gentle with someone so delicate.”
example eight) his obsession with her lavender nail varnish from the moment he met her— one of the first things he noticed about her, and always honed in on.
He turns me to face him, reaching for the collar of my coat and pulling me close. Kisses the tip of my nose. “I loved you first.”
My brows rise. “You did?”
“I’m not sure about that, but I’ll take the bait. When did you know?”
“Remember that time I came into the library and rang that little bell on the desk? It was really obnoxious but you were really polite. The look on your fucking face though…I loved that face.”
My friends call me merciless, they claim cold blood runs through my veins, that I'm impossible to get close to.
No one needs me, and I need them even less.
An insensitive guy. Intimidating. Cold. Callous. Complicated. The moodiest, broodiest, douchbaggiest guy I have ever met.
Zeke Daniels is an enigma, hard with Sharp edges and a compassionate interior he keeps so well hidden, no one would believe it existed if they weren't seeing it for themselves.
Where have you been all my life?
My eyes, goddamn them, go to those curved glossy lips and rest there as she tries not to grin at me. Brilliant white teeth wink. Big, virginal doe eyes crinkle at the corners.
She’s like a fairytale caricature. Like a pixie.
So endearing it almost makes me want to barf.
After driving away from her last night, I realize I probably know her better than she realizes. I know she’s a damn bleeding heart. I know she’s selfless, but only to a point. Kindhearted. Quiet. Inexperienced.
Stronger than either of us realizes.
Too goddamn trusting.
Too goddamn sunny for my gloom and doom.
Too light for my dark.
Too good for my bad.
“The best part of me is you, Violet.”