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Tracy spotted them and waved them over. As Best started to head that way, Dean said, “I’m going to grab another beer.”

Best paused, looking from Violet to Dean with a shake of his head. “Sack up, man.”

And with that sage advice, Best went to join the group, sliding in next to Tracy and throwing his arm around her shoulders with a grin.

Dean caught Violet watching him for half a second before she turned her attention back to the guy in front of her, suddenly hanging on his every word.

This is what you wanted, right? So get your beer and listen to some music. You came here for the concert.

Dean decided to do exactly that and, walking out of the beer garden, resisted the urge to look back at her one last time.

Chapter Three

VIOLET SWAYED TO the music as she sipped on her fourth wine in two hours, enjoying the buzz. Meghan Trainor was up next, and Violet was excited to cut loose and dance her heart out.

If only she was attracted to her dance partner.

It wasn’t that she didn’t like Robert Tran in general. He was a nice, if awkward, guy she’d gone to high school with, and although they’d been friends, she’d never been into him like that. Mainly because he was about eight inches shorter than her. She couldn’t help it that it was her biggest turnoff. Being tall had always been a sore spot, especially when guys in middle school had called her giraffe.

To make matters worse, Robert was extremely opinionated and didn’t mind pushing those opinions onto others. He was known for jumping from one soapbox to the next, which was probably why he’d been so good at debate. Violet thought he would have made an excellent politician, but he’d been talking about finishing up his med school program at UC Davis for the last thirty minutes, so maybe he’d gotten over arguing with people constantly.

Violet was a little intimidated by how put-together Robert seemed. She had one semester left to complete her bachelor’s degree but still needed her master’s degree and maybe even her doctorate. She wanted to help people suffering from severe depression, like her mother had been. Right now, she worked at Here to Listen, a national suicide hotline. It was astonishing how many callers had absolutely no support system. No counselor, no family or friends who understood. It was heartbreaking and gave her a better understanding of what her mother had gone through before she died.

Died. Even in her head and ten years later, it was still hard for her to say suicide. Her mother had committed suicide, leaving her three children alone with an unstable father.

But when she put it that way, it made her angry with her mother, and she didn’t want that to consume all the good memories of her. So she always used the words died or passed away.

But even the words couldn’t always banish the images of her mother in the bathtub, her pale face turned toward the door, her eyes closed . . .

And the water running over the side tinted red.

Violet blinked, pushing away thoughts of her mother, and refocused on Robert’s lips.

Which were moving. Shit, how long had he been speaking? Trying to hide the fact that he’d caught her spacing out, she pointed to her ears.

“Sorry, it’s loud. What did you say?”

“I said I’m glad we bumped into each other.”

“Oh, me, too,” she said. “It’s good to catch up.”

Suddenly he took her hand and brought her to him. When his arm wrapped around her waist and he gazed up at her with desire in his eyes, she swallowed.

Oh no.

“You know, I’ve liked you since freshman biology.”

Why? Because your face is eye level with my boobs?

“You . . . You have?” Violet looked around for Tracy to save her, but her friend was a little busy with Tyler’s tongue down her throat. Violet couldn’t believe it. Tracy normally made men work harder than a couple of beers and some smooth lines.

No help from that quarter.

“I almost asked you out, too, but then your mom died and you always seemed so busy with family and everything . . . ”

It was the standard explanation for why guys avoided getting involved with her. Her life was straight-up drama, had been for as long as she could remember, but it had only gotten worse after her mother died. Not many guys had wanted to date the girl who couldn’t go out on a Saturday because her little brother had a sore throat and fever. It was like being a teenaged mom.

And everyone knew at least some of her situation, if not all of it. It was kind of hard to hide the fact that your mom had committed suicide when it was plastered on the local news stations.

Source: www.allfreenovel.com
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