AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Walking into her room, he saw her shape under the comforter and stood over the bed. “I’m not trying to get one up on you or anything. This is my way of apologizing for the other day—”
Violet threw the blanket off her head as she sat up. Long, tangled red strands stood on end, and Dean had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling.
And then he met her red-rimmed, furious gaze, and his amusement melted away.
“Apologize? If you want to apologize, then you pick up a phone, dial my number, and if I answer, say, ‘I am sorry.’ You don’t bring a bunch of guys to my home because it’s such a run-down hellhole that someone has to fix it.”
Dean sat on the edge of her bed, his hand raised slightly in case she took a swing. “I never said your house was a hellhole.”
“You used my house for a community service project. You don’t have to say it.”
Dean realized too late why Violet was so angry with him, and he felt like the world’s biggest tool. “Everyone needs someone in their corner, Violet. That’s all I was trying to do with all of this. I get that you don’t like asking for help, and maybe you don’t think you need it, but this wasn’t anything more than a gesture of friendship.”
“Friends? That is really all this is to you?”
Smoothing down her static-charged hair with one hand, he hesitated. His answer was more complicated than yes or no. Did he want her trust? Yes. Did he want to be friends with her? Absolutely.
Was that all he wanted? No, but he couldn’t have everything he wanted. Not unless he chose to derail all of the plans he’d made for his career and future. If he gave up on going back to being a soldier, then he would always be the guy who choked. Who failed his unit when they needed him the most.
And he wasn’t ready to do that yet, not for anyone.
“Yes, I came here as a friend. To do something nice for you. I wasn’t trying to make you feel like shit about your house; I get that you have had to deal with a lot.” Dean stared into her face as his fingers played with a soft lock of her hair. “Let us do this for you.”
The tension in Violet’s body seemed to drain from her, yet she caught his hand and pulled it from her hair. Her expression was earnest and intense. “I can’t.”
Dean sighed in defeat. There was only so much he could do, and he wasn’t going to force this on her, despite his initial intentions. “I’ll let the guys know.”
“No.” She tugged his hand as he started to rise. “I just meant that I can’t let you do it for me. If you are going to work on my house, then I want to help.”
Dean’s thumb trailed over the soft skin of her palm, but he didn’t argue. “I’d never say no to an extra set of hands.”
“I wouldn’t have let you even if you’d tried.”
VIOLET’S SKIN HUMMED where Dean had touched her, and she was loath to pull away from the sensation. Just moments before she had been ready to deck him for sticking his nose in her business, but his sincerity had put a chink in her armor. If he wanted to be her friend, then helping was okay. Tracy helped her all the time and vice versa.
And truth be told, she didn’t have a lot of friends to call on. And he’d already seen her at her worst, so what would be the harm in letting him be there for her?
Because the way he makes you feel is very unfriend-like.
As evidenced by the somersault her stomach did when he squeezed her hand and stood up.
“Well, I’ll get back out there and let you change.”
Violet climbed out of bed and stood with him, struggling to find something to say. “I am sorry that I nearly took your head off, but next time you decide to do something nice for a friend, you might want to wait until eight a.m. Maybe nine.”
“I’ll remember that, for next time.” Pointing at her feet, he added, “By the way, what are those supposed to be?”
Violet glanced down at the slippers he was staring at. The plush gray faces had red felt sores and a dangling eyeball. “They’re zombies.”
“You have a thing for zombies?”
“No, they scare me, always have.”
“Then why do you have them?” he asked.
“Because I have a fourteen-year-old brother with a wicked sense of humor,” she said, smiling. Casey had gotten into zombies when he was ten, but she never let him watch any movies because she was afraid he’d get nightmares. She’d finally given in when he was almost twelve but insisted on sitting with him in case it was too scary. Turned out she was the big sissy, and it had been a constant joke in their house.
The slippers were her favorite birthday gift ever, especially because it tickled Casey so much for her to wear them. Apparently he had collected recycling and taken a few odd jobs to pay for them so they would be a surprise.
