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Startled by her aggressiveness, he rocked back on his heels. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re a little scary?”
“All the time,” she said. “But seriously, if you’re just hanging around thinking my sister is just a way to pass the time, you should move on now. Because she is way better than a stepping stone. I’m not saying she’s a saint, but she’s pretty fucking close. So if you hurt her, I guarantee karma will follow you for eternity and bite you in the ass over and over again.”
“I’m not planning on hurting your sister. I am just . . . I don’t know, I just want to be around her.”
“Hmm, fine. I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt, but remember what I said. Karma on your ass forever.”
VIOLET FINISHED BLOW-DRYING her hair and was fluffing the red mass as she stared in the mirror. When she’d washed her hair, she had indeed found batter clumped in the strands, and the thought that Dean might have actually seen it was making it hard to leave the bathroom. Why was it that she was constantly at the losing end of their interactions? Melting down into a sob fest, getting reamed by her brother, and dealing with the general chaos of her life . . . How was he still here?
The real question is, why? What does he want? Because we both know that friendship is the last thing on your mind when he’s around.
Which might be true, but Violet wasn’t stupid. No matter what, she wasn’t looking for someone else to care about, and he wasn’t looking for a relationship. So essentially, there wouldn’t be anything wrong with them hooking up as friends in theory, except . . .
Violet liked him. He was a good guy, and those were so hard to come by. If she let her guard down, she was going to get attached.
And when it was over, she’d have one more regret.
Yet, here you are, letting him stay to paint the porch.
Because despite her better judgment, she wanted to be around Dean. With so many stressors in her life, he was like this bright, warm light. She wanted to get closer and keep it forever.
The thought startled her. Where had that come from?
Writing it off as just her emotions getting away from her, she concentrated on getting dressed. She settled on a simple sleeveless shirt and jean shorts, since her phone said it was going to be close to a hundred and five degrees. She hadn’t bothered with anything but her moisturizing face lotion and a little mascara; she’d just sweat it off anyway. Besides, it wasn’t as if Dean hadn’t seen her without makeup.
She walked out of her bedroom just as Daisy was heading to the front door in her Safeway uniform.
“Whoa, where you off to?”
“Got called into work, and since my last day isn’t technically until Wednesday, I figured I’d go in. It’s just six hours, so I’ll be home around five.”
“Okay. I’ll probably make something easy for dinner,” Violet said.
“Good with me.” Violet followed her out the back door, since Dean was on the front porch painting. “Have you talked to Quinton yet?”
“Not yet. With packing and working and him doing . . . whatever he does, we haven’t had a chance to meet up.”
“Well, really, when you tell him—”
“Make sure there are witnesses with camera phones.” Daisy waved at her as she jogged toward her car. “I got it. Don’t worry.”
Violet couldn’t help it. With Casey at Alpha Dog and CPS watching her, all she did was worry.
“You clean up good,” Dean teased as she came around the side of the house.
Violet laughed as she climbed up the unpainted porch steps. “Thanks. Can I help?”
“Sure, grab a brush. I was just trying to find a station on Pandora.”
Violet picked up a paintbrush as the cords of “Jeremy” by Pearl Jam blared from his phone speaker. The song content pinched at her heart, considering Jeremy stood up in class and killed himself.
Was it ironic or just sad that it had been one of her mom’s favorites?
“You like nineties rock?” she asked.
“Yeah, you?” he asked.
“My mom did. You know that song ‘I’m Gonna Be (Five Hundred Miles)’ by The Proclaimers? She used to march me around the house to that until I almost peed my pants laughing.”
