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But the fact that Violet’s car accident happened a mere day after I got sidelined last January is fucking with my head.
“Unless you’re ready to own up to your feelings for her, you probably don’t want to hear it.” “For fuck’s sake, Banks. Are you going to make me say it?” “Oh, I’ve known for a while. It’s obvious from the way you look at her. But I wasn’t sure if you were still in denial.”
“I don’t know if the close timing of the two events necessarily means anything other than shitty luck, but your reaction to this says it all. It bothers you because you wish you could’ve been there for her, and you wish she could have been there for you.”
“Though if you ask me, I think you’re more bothered about not being there for her than the other way around.”
“For what it’s worth, Violet looks at you the same way.”
Biscuit is many things; low maintenance is not one of them.
“Keep searching, fucker, because Biscuit chewed up my new shoes this morning.”
“These are Golden Goose. Or they were.” I snort. “Good. They were ugly.”
How did I end up with a puppy? Oh, that’s right, I’m whipped over Violet.
The good part of this internship situation is, I see Nash all the time. The bad part is, I see Nash all the time.
“Ouch,” he hisses, leaning away. “How are you so tiny, yet so violent?”
Why, are you dating that brunette who was all over you at the pub after the game?” Fair’s fair, I guess. “No. You’re the only girlfriend I’ve ever had.” “Is that supposed to make me feel special?” My throat tightens, and I swallow it down. “I don’t know, does it?”
“Great.” Nash’s smile is rueful. “Since I’ve brought him home, he’s only destroyed three shoes, one iPhone cord, and chewed half a Finance textbook. You should come visit him.”
“You’re so hard-headed, you barely need a helmet.”
“Don’t flatter yourself. You used to know me, but not anymore.” In my peripheral vision, Nash steps closer, and his voice drops. “Oh, I know lots of things.”
“This table is really low.” “I’m really short. Or you’re really tall, depending how you look at it.” This quote from the night we met slips out before I can stop myself. Though, he probably doesn’t even remember. “Bit of both, really.” His mouth pulls into a heart-stopping grin. A dull ache forms in my chest, because he does.
“Like I was saying, I know lots of things.” He drags his thumb lower, caressing the delicate skin behind my left ear. “For example, I know if I kiss this spot right here, you’ll arch your neck and let out the sexiest fucking whimper I’ve ever heard.”
“If I bite here, you’ll moan.” He squeezes the flesh where my neck meets my shoulder.
“And if I move lower...” His fingertips ghost along my collarbone, his touch feather-light. I draw in a breath as his hand splays, slowly drifting down the swell of my breasts. My breath hitches, and goosebumps wash over my skin. I watch him, mesmerized, slipping deeper under his spell with every passing second. He continues until he’s nearly at the neckline of my tank top, and my nipples tighten in anticipation of his touch.
“You can’t just try to seduce me in the middle of the training room.” “Fine. I’ll seduce you here instead.”
“Do you always have to be inappropriate?” I’m trying to sound assertive, but my breathy protest is unconvincing even to my own ears. “You’re the one who yanked me into a dark room alone, Vi.” “Oh my God. You’re so…” My train of thought derails as Nash lifts me off the ground, setting me on the dresser.
“Charming? Irresistible?” I can’t see his face in the dark, but I can hear the smirk in his voice. “The word I was looking for is infuri—” Before I can finish, he grabs my face and his mouth crashes down on mine.
Oh, I missed this.
“Why do you always smell so fucking good?” His words are a heated, husky whisper against my throat.
“You’re wet for me right now, aren’t you Vi? I bet you’re fucking soaked.” His voice is thick with desire and full of filthy memories.
“Damn, I missed your sounds. It’s been way too long since I’ve seen you come.”
“You didn’t interrupt, because you were never here,” Nash tells him, a lethal calmness to his tone.
“Are you okay, Petal?”
My chest pulls tight at the familiar nickname.
Nash handles my body like an expert. Holding, squeezing, owning.
Maybe it’s not a fair comparison. He’s had a lot of practice. Besides, sex was never the issue. Everything else was.
His gaze pins me, watchful. “You kissed me back.” Like there was ever any qu...
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He pulls away and rests his forehead against mine, squeezing his eyes shut for the briefest moment in a way that almost looks pained. “I missed you, Vi.” My throat clenches. “I missed you, too.”
One question echoes through my mind. How can he be Mr. Wrong when he’s the only one who’s ever made me feel this way?
Kissing Violet was either the stupidest or smartest thing I’ve ever done. Problem is, I’m not sure which. It’s all I’ve been able to think about ever since.
“You must care about her a lot.” A knot forms in my chest, winding around my throat. “Yeah.”
What kills me is, I’ve never told Violet that directly. When she said she loved me, I couldn’t bring myself to say it back—which goes to show how dysfunctional I am. I’d like to fall back on the whole, “actions speak louder than words” concept to defend myself, but I’m not so sure I’m great at showing how I feel, either.
“What do you think will happen if you let Violet in?” “I don’t know. I just…every time I start to, I panic. My brain slams on the brakes. I want to leap out of the car and run. Figuratively, I mean.”
“What are you afraid of?” Everything. “Getting hurt.”
“But this time around,” I add, “It’s different. Because I think my fear of losing her again might outweigh that.”
I’ll never forgive myself if I let her get away again.”
“I don’t want to be Doug version two-point-zero.”
“You’re not your father, Nash.”
“What do you think will happen if you don’t let Violet in? If you continue this pattern of behavior from before where you push her away when you get too close?” “I’ll lose her again.” Justifiably so.
“Would that hurt?” So much I can’t even let myself imagine it. “Yes.”
Nothing like following your therapy session with a call from the person who sent you there in the first place. For fuck’s sake. His timing is nothing short of impeccable.
“Did you kiss him back?” Julianna presses. “What do you think?” My cheeks burn hotter than a fireplace, and I bury my face in my palms. “Of course, I did. It’s Nash. He’s my own personal brand of heroin.”
The one who held my hand all over campus even though the guys on the team gave him shit for being whipped. Who bought me a necklace with an amethyst pendant from Tiffany’s while he was away for a tournament in New York City because it reminded him of me. Who used to sit and play with my hair, reserving all the yellow Skittles for me while we watched cheesy movies. The one I made plans for the future with, who once promised me forever.
“Just stay away from—” “The basketball team,” I finish, rolling my eyes and fighting a smile at the same time.
“Better yet, guys in general. Except for you, right?” He grins. “Exactly.”
