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That’s when it happens. Todd snaps his fingers at our server. I swear the sound echoes in my soul.
ICK
There’s more to it than she’s gone, lung cancer, but I still don’t know how to tell it. I don’t know if I ever will, but right now I sure haven’t figured out how to say now I just want another day with the mother I spent so much time resenting or sometimes I wished it would kill her faster and I still can’t forgive myself or I don’t know if I’ll ever stop blaming her.
?
Then he reaches out with his thumb, swipes a glob of frosting from my cheek, and licks his thumb.
Oop
I’m thinking that if Martin’s trying to take credit for Violet’s cake heroism, I’ll rub poison ivy on the inside of his jacket when he’s not looking.
I want to leave here and take her with me. I want us to leave Sprucevale behind. I want to bring her somewhere new, somewhere exciting where she’s never been. I want to take her breath away and make her giddy with happiness, just like this.
“Violet, I swear to God, I’ve been back in town for three months and I’ve already spent two of them convincing you to get in my car so I can get you home safely,” I say. “Don’t make me threaten to pick you up and carry you out of here.”
“It’s the feeling that everything around you is slightly wrong and you can’t fix it,” I say, still staring at her. “It’s a bone-deep desire to bury yourself in the familiar.”
“Also, you weren’t drunk. You didn’t even finish your beer.” “Let me believe my lie,” I say.
Why do all his shirts have to fit him that well? It’s unprofessional. Can I report him for being too hot at work?
The coffee cups clink softly as I walk down the dark hallway, carrying the tray. It’s got two full French presses, two coffee mugs with saucers, and a little pitcher of cream for Violet, since I know how she takes her coffee. Call me Martha Stewart, I guess.
Violet’s a diamond in a room full of coal: beautiful, interesting, always the most fascinating thing around.
“The point of this is to see how loud I can make you come,” he says. “Pissing you off a little is just a fun bonus.”
Violet’s a revelation. Every single time we kiss it feels brand new, like I’ve never been kissed before. Every time we touch, her skin is electric. I want her like I’ve never wanted anyone.
“Don’t look at my computer,” I say. “And especially don’t look at the folder labeled ‘Plotting Eli’s Downfall.’” I don’t actually care if he looks at my work computer. What’s he gonna find, seating charts? I’m not dumb or crazy enough to keep anything remotely interesting on there. “I don’t see that one,” he drawls. “I just see this one called ‘Very hot porn,’ and it’s… all drawings of me, naked?” “Dammit,” I hiss, glancing at the door.
Wait their banter is so cutie
“Would you actually get up and sit somewhere else?” “Probably not,” he admits. “Then why ask?” “Because we live in a society where manners are expected,” he says, that note of amusement in his voice that drives me up the wall. “Even though it’s obvious that no one’s sitting here, I say is this seat taken and you say no, please sit down, but only one of us managed to do it right. Hi, Lydia.” She’s trying not to laugh at us.
coffee. I eat the bacon and eggs that Eli makes. I didn’t know I had bacon and eggs in the house, but apparently he’s started stocking my fridge when I’m not looking.
“Especially now,” he says, and kisses me on top of the head. “I’m gonna take a shower. Leave without me if you want, I’ve got my key.”
I’m going to catch Martin in the act. Then I’m going to take this footage to Montgomery and get his ass fired. It doesn’t feel like enough. I want to get him fired and then scorch the earth behind him. I want to get him fired and make him unemployable. I want to get him fired, get him kicked out of his house, get his driver’s license revoked. I want him to have to change his name and move to a new state, and once he’s there, I want someone to take a picture of his flaccid dick and put it up on every street corner and signpost. I want Martin to suffer. That’s what I want.
YUPP
There’s always the option of beating the shit out of Martin, but bruises heal
“You know this is proof that you’re a devious, ruthless asshole sometimes, right?” I ask. “Only for the right reasons,” he says. “I’d go to the ends of the earth to be a devious, ruthless asshole to anyone who hurt you. Even if you won’t believe me.”
“I’ve been to a lot of places and there’s no one else like you,” he says, his voice suddenly low, serious. “You’re it, Violet. You’re all there is for me. It’s you or a life of austere hermitude. Let me be yours.”
That night, I just hold her. It feels important, somehow, just being there. Just being with her. Just being hers.
When I’m with her, like this, the world falls away and nothing else exists. Reality is the heat of the water on my back, her mouth under mine, the way her body begs me for more. Reality is her nails on my back, my lips against her ear, her hand finding my cock and stroking it. “I’m yours,” I murmur into her ear as I slide two fingers into her tight, hot entrance.
Whatever I am in life right now, I’m her slave because I need this.
My heart thumps in my chest. I knew it was a lot. I knew that there was a big difference between be my girlfriend and I bought us a house, but it was reckless and impulsive, a late-night decision to write an offer letter and send it off.
“Do you see this pie?” she asks me, her face and voice completely serious. I just sigh and cross my arms. “Eli.” “Yes, I see the pie.” “This is my pie,” she says. “I nearly had to stab your brother Levi with a fork to get it. And I love you, but if you try to eat it, I’ll stab you with a fork.” “I understand,” I say. “You want me to eat it while you’re asleep.”
