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Violet presses her lips together. She pulls her arms over her chest. "I should get back to work."
"Sure. Thanks for the cooking lesson." I study her body language. As much as I want to kiss her, it's not the time. I press my lips to her forehead instead. "Really, thanks Vi."
"Anytime." She returns to her bunk.
The words linger in my mind. Anytime. That's what I want. I want Violet around anytime I need her. I want to be around anytime she needs me.
Just need to figure out how to make that happen.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Violet
In my head, I make a list with two columns. The first is Things Violet is Good At. It includes math, making guacamole, karate, convincing people to back off, avoiding parents, cohabitation in a very small apartment with another human being.
Then there's the other column: Things Violet is Terrible At. It includes communicating with family members, dirty talk, staying close to the aforementioned human being (I've been ignoring Athena's texts for days), and, most importantly, pulling back from a relationship with Ethan.
Here I am, in a dark dive bar in a tiny city in Montana, with Ethan's arm around my waist. Mal and Joel are already at the bar, but Ethan and I are lingering by the jukebox.
I could easily tell him to move his arm. I could even use the little tact I have to do it.
But I don't want him moving his arm. I want his other arm around me. I want his lips on mine. I want his naked body pressed against mine, his cock driving deep inside me.
Ahem. I fiddle with my purse until I find change for the jukebox. There. I slide four quarters into the machine and pick the proper song. I Love Rock and Roll by Joan Jett.
Ethan laughs. "I'm taking that as a compliment."
"Take it however you want." I shift my hips in time with the beat. God, Ethan has such nice eyes. No matter what I do, I want to swim in them. No matter what I do, I want to make him smile.
He slides his arms around my waist and pulls my body against his. I hook my arms around his neck and dance like we're a clumsy couple at prom. Or like we're dancing at our wedding.
My heartbeat picks up. My breath quickens. Every fiber of my being wants to be here, dancing with Ethan at some random bar in some random town in Montana.
I don't care that I'm overdressed in my heeled boots and my miniskirt. I don't care that all twenty people in the bar are gawking at the dancing weirdos. Right now, I don't even care that falling for Ethan is going to break my heart.
Being with him feels so fucking good.
I rest my head against his chest. This isn't a slow song. We shouldn't be dancing like this. But that's another thing that doesn't bother me.
He holds me until the song stops. I can feel Mal and Joel's stares, but I can't bring myself to care. Let them stare. Let them gossip.
Ethan plants a deep, slow kiss on my lips. When he pulls back, he nods to the table. "Meet you there."
I nod back then I float to the table. Mal is still holding his usual poker face. Joel is amused.
He motions to the pitcher of beer on the table. "Want a glass?"
"No thanks. I hate beer." I slide onto the bench opposite Mal and Joel.
"You prefer acetone to barley?" Joel raises a brow.
"Yes, I do. How else could I change my nail polish once a week?" I show off my red nails.
My eyes go to Ethan. He's still standing at the bar. He always looks good, especially with his jeans snug around his perfect ass, his tattoos poking out from the v of his v-neck and the
sleeves of his t-shirt, but there's something about him today… It must be my body fighting with my mind. My hands want to trace all his tattoos. Fuck, my tongue wants to trace all of those tattoos.
Joel is looking at me. I can feel his eyes on me even though my gaze is still on Ethan.
