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The numbness that says:this can’t be happening. This can’t be real.
Surely there’s been some cosmic error; I can’t truly have fallen madly in love with a woman who can’t stand me. I’d like a refund please, universe.
“Shit.” My head thumps back against the trellis, the leaves of a climbing vine rustling in response. This is not how I hoped tonight would go.
I pictured cool drinks, warm laughter, and trading friendly barbs with my beautiful rival. Violet rolling her eyes at me, her mouth twitching as she fights a smile; her soft voice in my ear on the dance floor, insulting me even as she presses closer. It seemed so clear, so inevitable, like a path laid in front of our feet.
Deluded. That’s what I was.
Can’t believe I called Hazel to check Violet would be coming tonight. Can’t believe I thought there was somethingrealbetween us; an undeniable connection. I need my head checked.
“Is this a pity party for one, or can anybody join?”
Violet’s voice sends a pleased shudder down my spine. I stiffen where I’m leaning against the trellis, staring up at the stars.
Heels scrape against the stone roof. My rival approaches slowly, like I might spook at any sudden movements, and you know what? She’s not wrong.
Need to get out of here. Whatever Violet wants from me right now, it’s not something I can give, so I tug on my shirt collar and keep staring up at the night sky. My tone is light as I say, “It’s a private party, I’m afraid. By invitation only.”
She huffs a small laugh, and comes to stand by my side anyway.
Irritation snakes through my gut, coiling tight. What is she doing here? What does shewant? Can’t she see this is killing me?
“I’m hiding.” Violet’s confession is quiet, and her body heat seeps through my sleeve. “Tonight has been a disaster for me.”
“Diddums,” I say flatly.
And it’s such a relief to hear her snort, to feel her shoulder nudge my arm, that suddenly I don’t want her to leave after all. No: I want her here by my side, turning me inside out with how badly I want her. I want her private confessions and her teasing words, and I guess I have zero pride when it comes to this woman, because you know what? I don’t care if she doesn’t love me back.
Ineedher.
Tragic but true.
I’d rather spend the rest of tonight with Violet Moore, heartbroken and humiliated, than go back out to that party and be with anybody else.
How did I get here? How did she do this to me? Sometime over the last few years, in between griping about my messy desk and trading insults by the water cooler, this woman got into my blood.
“You’re a good dancer,” Violet says.
“Thank you. You, on the other hand, are shit.”
A sharp elbow digs into my ribs, but she’s laughing. “I am not!”
Please. “You stepped on my foot at least five times, and in those heels too. I could sue you for millions.”
“You won’t, though.”
“No.” Sniffing hard, I frown up at the winking stars. They’re faded by the city lights, the night sky made hazy by the constant glow, but I like to remember that even if we can’t see it, there’s a whole universe up there. Planets and black holes and asteroids. “Too much paperwork.”
Violet hums, shuffling close so that our arms press together—and my heartbeat jolts in response, shuddering faster. What is she doing? What happened to being repulsed by me?
I fucking hate the hope blooming in my chest. When will I learn my lesson? When will I take a goddamn hint? Not tonight.
“I’ll give you a do-over,” I say, testing the waters. “If you want to defend your honor, this is your chance. One dance to prove you’re not completely uncoordinated.”
Violet’s already turning to face me, and when I glance down, she looks hopeful in the gloom. The moonlight glints in her dark hair, and a cautious smile curves her lips.
Cautious? Violet Moore?
