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Violet stands, zipping and buttoning her jeans. Then she smooths her hands over her shirt as if nothing happened.

I exhale sharply, dropping my gaze.

Like I didn’t make her come hard on my hand in the dead of night.

I roll my shoulders. My eyes flick to her again.

She’s already moving toward the door.

“Violet,” I say before I can stop myself.

She pauses, turning back to me. “Yeah?”

I hesitate.

I don’t even know what I’m trying to say.

Why it feels too fast, but not enough.

Why I want her to stay, but know she should go.

“I’ll… see you later,” I finish instead.

Her smile deepens slightly. “Yeah,” she says. “You will.”

And then she leaves.

The door clicks shut behind her.

And the house feels different.

Too quiet.

Wrong.

I stare at the space she left behind.

And the worst part?

I’m not trying to forget it.

I’m trying to figure out why I wanted her to stay.

41

DREW

Eating breakfast didn’t help.

Nor did the hot, then cold, shower.

Nothing gets Violet out of my head.

I’ve made a real damn mess of this.

I snatch up my phone and dial my brother.

“Hey Drew. What’s?—”