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“Nice to meet you, too. This is Dean.”
Dean. She’d always liked that name. It wasn’t a name used that often anymore, kind of like her own. She might have to use that little observation to break the ice, since his features were definitely schooled with a chilly edge.
She released Tyler’s hand and held hers out to Dean, who took it reluctantly. His palm was warm, rough, and heat seared her skin as he squeezed gently. Violet’s gaze shot up to meet his eyes, but he didn’t seem affected by her at all.
“Hi, Dean.”
“Hey.” His voice was deep and gravelly, like Mathew MacFadyen without the accent. Of course he would sound like Mr. Darcy . . . His cool demeanor was definitely reminiscent of him.
He released her hand abruptly and wiped his along his shorts. Self-consciously she rubbed her finger across her palm, but it didn’t feel sweaty.
What was his problem?
“So, where are you boys headed?” Tracy seemed oblivious to the tension between Violet and Dean, despite Violet’s attempt at telepathy.
Come on, Trace, not these guys.
“To the beer garden. Wanna join us?” Tyler said.
Violet opened her mouth to say no, but Tracy jumped in. “We would love to.”
So much for the best friend mind meld they always joked about. Disappointment threaded through Violet as she imagined how the rest of the night would go: awkward silence between her and Dean while Tracy and Tyler made out until Tyler asked her to come home with him.
Which pretty much meant Violet’s night was going to be a total bust.
Tracy and Tyler fell into step beside each other, talking a mile a minute while Violet and Dean walked behind them. Violet kept glancing his way, hoping he’d say something, but he just stared straight ahead, his face blank.
It was really too bad he was being so standoffish. He really was hot.
Just talk to him. Maybe he’s shy.
Violet didn’t believe that for a second but tried anyway. “So, what do you do, Dean?”
“I’m a soldier.”
“Like in the army?” It sounded stupid the minute it left her lips, but she couldn’t take it back.
“Yes, soldiers are army.” His tone was full of condescension, and Violet’s muscles tensed, irritation prickling her skin.
So, Tracy really does have some kind of dick-radar.
“Sorry, just clarifying.” Why are you apologizing? “I’m going to school for psychology.”
Dean didn’t say anything, and Violet’s jaw clenched in frustration. “You’re kind of taciturn, aren’t you?”
“What’s that mean?” he asked.
“Not very talkative,” she said.
“I just don’t have a lot to say.”
This is NOT how I planned on spending my evening.
It was the first time in months that Violet hadn’t needed to worry about her brother and sister, her classes, or her work schedule. Today was supposed to be about hanging with her best friend and doing something any normal twenty-four-year-old would enjoy.
Which meant she didn’t need to tolerate hanging with a jerk who couldn’t even make polite conversation. It wasn’t like she was asking him to marry her or something. Just a little chitchat while their friends hooked up.
Instead, his attitude was threatening her good mood.
