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Now it’s my turn to be confused. “But we haven’t even been together for two whole months. What do you mean, three years? We’ve known each other for four.”
“I’ve wanted you since Bianca’s twenty-second birthday.” His confession makes my heart skip a beat. “I don’t know what happened. It’s like a switch flipped, and I stopped seeing you as a kid that was my daughter’s friend and instead saw the smart and sexy woman you’d become. I felt like a lech, but that didn’t stop me from trying to see you every chance that I got.”
I’m blown away by this revelation. He’s wanted me for a year? How is that possible? If only I had known—
“And by that time I was avoiding you like the plague,” I mutter, but he still manages to hear me.
“I noticed you weren’t around as much. Why were you trying to avoid me, baby?” He takes a step closer and wraps his arms around my waist, pulling me into him so that our bodies are pressed seamlessly together in that way I love. Almost as much as I love him. Though that’s something I can never say out loud. He may have felt an attraction for me a year ago, but that doesn’t mean that he loves me the way I love him. I have to remind myself that this is going to end and when it does... it’s going to be devastating.
“Well, I had a crush on this guy that was a lot older and super inappropriate for me that didn’t know I existed,” I say teasingly, trying to cover up my deep feelings for this man. “I was trying to avoid him every chance I got so that I could move on from him.”
I can hear a little growl from the back of his throat before his lips capture mine, giving me a hungry kiss filled with yearning. I can almost taste how much he wants me. He has to force himself to pull away and leave me breathless, panting after him. “There’s no moving on, Violet. You’re mine now, remember?”
I nod my head, still a little dazed from that intense kiss.
“The words, Violet. I need the words.”
“No moving on. Got it.”
“Good,” he says, running a slightly shaky hand through his short hair, mussing it. I know he calls me his, however I’m also smart enough to know that there’s an unspokenfor nowat the end of it. But I’m determined to enjoy being his for as long as he’ll have me.
“Fuck, I was joking before about skipping out on our date, but now I really do just want to take you to bed.”
“No way,” I say, playfully slapping him on the chest. “I’m starving. You’re taking me to dinner.”
“Yes, dear,” he says in that joking way, like that of a whipped husband, that makes me laugh. That’s another thing that’s happened since I’ve been with Dante. He’s brought out a playful side of me that I didn’t even know existed.
After reapplying the lip balm that Dante kissed off, I toss it into my purse just as I hear my phone buzz. I pull it out to see who it is and frown.
Tyler:How about dinner tonight, beautiful?
So apparently Tyler’s having a good day. Even though these kinds of texts from him are tone deaf and I never respond, they’re still infinitely better than the other ones I get from him.
“What’s wrong? Who’s that?” Dante asks. He must have noticed my face when I read the text. For just a second I consider lying to him, but then decide that there’s no point. Besides, this is a pretty mild text. I can just downplay it a little so that he doesn’t worry too much.
“It’s Tyler.”
“Tyler? That little douchebag you went out with?”
I roll my eyes, but don’t bother defending him. He doesn’t deserve it. “Yeah, he’s been texting me occasionally. I broke it off with him weeks ago, you know that, but he doesn’t seem to have gotten it. He just asked me out for dinner tonight.”
“You’re kidding. Do you want me to talk to him?”
I shake my head. “While I appreciate the offer, it’s nothing I can’t handle. I haven’t been responding to him, and he’s actually stopped showing up for class. I should probably just block him. It’s honestly nothing for you to worry about.” And it really isn’t. Tyler has turned out to be nothing more than one of the thousands of keyboard warriors out there, brave behind their computer or phone screens but otherwise relatively harmless.
“Well, I don’t like it. If he doesn’t stop, let me know and I’ll take care of it.”
“I appreciate that, but it’ll be fine. Now, let’s get out of here before my stomach starts growling.” He seems to shake off the Tyler conversation and grabs my hand, pulling me along behind him.
TWENTY
Violet
It didn’t escape my notice that we drove a good thirty minutes before arriving at the small Italian restaurant he made reservations at. There was no need to tell me it was so that we could avoid bumping into anyone we knew. While I understand the caution and wouldn’t have made a different choice myself, I still wish there was a way that we could just hold hands and walk down the street to our local café. But we can’t always get what we want.
After Dante lifts me out of the truck, we make a run for the door since it’s sprinkling out. I’ve lived in Seattle my whole life, and I’ve found that unless the rain is really coming down, it’s more of a hassle to carry an umbrella than it is a help. Especially if you’re just going to the car and back.
The inside of the restaurant is warm, the walls covered with dark wooden paneling giving it an old-school feel. Every table is covered with a white linen cloth and topped with a flickering votive candle. It reminds me of those old-school Italian restaurants you see in movies. When we’re greeted at the host stand by an exuberant older man with graying hair, a thick mustache, and a heavy Italian accent, the picture is complete.
