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VIOLET: I was sure you would have your number changed.
RHYS: Don’t regret telling me how you feel.
VIOLET: Right now I don’t trust how I feel.
RHYS: I’m calling you.
My phone rang and I picked it up, dreading the conversation.
I didn’t bother with pleasantries. “I was upset, Rhys. I was drunk, emotional, and scared last night.”
“You can’t take it back and I don’t want you to.” My heart plummeted at the sound of his voice. His effect on me was overwhelming.
I sighed at the thought that with Rhys, I may never have control. “Fine, I wasn’t taking it back, anyway. I was more or less explaining my behavior.”
“I happen to like it when you get a little crazy. It means you care,” he mused.
“I do, but, Rhys, is this really what you want? I feel like I forced myself into your life. And honestly, I feel a little pathetic,” I said, my voice shaking slightly.
“You forget that I started this, Violet. I did, not you. I need to see you. Can I come over after work?”
I closed my eyes, picturing his hands on my face, feeling his kiss on my lips. I wanted that more than anything.
“Rhys, I’m leaving.”
“Leaving?” I could hear his voice twist as he became upset.
I took a deep breath. “Before I passed out last night, I was thinking about the way we started and because of the way I’ve acted, you have every right to keep him from me. Bryce is your priority, as he should be. I’m not upset anymore.”
“And I’m happy about that, but what I’m really interested in is the leaving part,” he said gruffly, becoming more agitated.
“Not for long. Just a week. My friend Molly’s parents own a house in Grand Cayman and I want to get away and...I want to start dating you while I’m gone.”
“That’s kind of difficult, Violet.”
“No, it’s not actually. We can talk every day.”
A long silence followed before he spoke.
“What are you doing? Running?” he snapped. I could tell he was pacing.
“Please don’t get upset. I’m trying to get to know you. If we were in the same room right now, what would we be doing?”
“Fucking...and only because you would beg me to. You don’t have to leave to start dating me. I can keep my hands to myself, Violet. I’m actually quite disciplined in that department.”
My whole body heated at his dismissal of his own need for me. Instead of being perturbed by his statement, it turned me on. I was officially a sick woman.
“I don’t want you to keep your hands to yourself. I just really want to go to the Caymans, and according to my lawyer, when I get back, I will be a slightly wealthy divorcee. I need this trip. I want this trip. I think I deserve it. I have a bucket list to write. I want to come back healed and divorced. I don’t want you to look at me now and see that night. I want you to see me whole and without another man’s last name attached to me.”
“I’ll take you the way you are and here,” he insisted, his tone more of disappointment than annoyance. I understood it.
“Sounds like a sweet response, like the right one...but really, you are being selfish,” I noted.
“Fucking A I am,” he said testily. Silence lingered between us. He couldn’t exactly be the demanding beau he wanted to be and I had to keep from chuckling at the thought.
He let out a long breath. “I’ll date you, Violet. I’ll do whatever it takes to get you back on my porch, because next time you are there, I won’t let you leave.” The defeat in his voice tugged at my chest.
“That porch is cursed for me as far as I’m concerned. Rhys, I don’t expect you to be a Casanova. I just really want to know the basics like your middle name, favorite football team, and about your son.” I took out my large suitcase and started packing.
