22. Drew
DREW
I stand in front of my closet far longer than necessary.
Get it together. It's just dinner.
I scan my limited options. Button-downs. Slacks. A couple of jackets I rarely wear.
Nothing that feels like it belongs next to her.
Eventually, I grab a dark button-down and blazer, then get dressed.
I stand in front of the mirror, critically eying myself.
Then I grab a tie.
It’s more effort than I usually put in. But I care how I look, especially when I’m with her.
And that’s the problem.
A knock sounds on the door. I look at my reflection one more time before hurrying down the hallway, grateful that Ivy and Sebastian went into the city for dinner.
I gulp. Hopefully, they won’t be at the same restaurant Violet’s taking me to.
Breathe.
Just breathe.
I slow down, run a hand through my hair, then paste a look on my face that I hope looks cool, not constipated.
I pull the door open… and forget how to breathe.
Violet stands on the other side like she stepped out of a different world.
Long red hair falls in soft waves over her shoulders, catching the low light. The black dress—fitted and elegant without trying too hard—hugs her in a way that short-circuits my brain.
She's... stunning.
Somehow that still doesn't feel like a strong enough word.
“Hi,” she says, a small smile playing on her lips. Like she has no idea what she just did to me.
I clear my throat, forcing my brain back online. “Hi.”
Brilliant, Drew. Really smooth.
Her eyes flick over me, slow and deliberate. Appreciative.
And something in my chest loosens just a fraction.
“You clean up well,” she says softly.
“You… too,” I manage.
Understatement of the century.
Her smile deepens slightly, like she heard the thought anyway. “Ready?” she asks.
I nod, grabbing my keys before I can overthink it. “Yeah.”
I follow her out, locking the door behind me out of habit.
My brows fly up as she heads to the passenger side. She pulls the door open. “You do it for me,” she says, hair blowing lightly from the soft breeze. “Figured I’d return the favor.”
I stand there, unmoving, for a beat before my brain snaps out of the trance I’m under.
“Wow. Thanks.” I move toward her, my eyes dropping to her glossy red lips, then to her violet eyes. “I should be opening the door for you, though.”
She smiles. “You already have.”
It sounds like the statement has a double meaning, but I ignore it.
I slide inside, my palms sweaty. She gently closes the door and rounds the car.
I reach across and push her door open.
She slides inside with a smile. “Thank you, Drew.”
“Anytime.”
She hums softly under her breath as she drives, her fingers tapping lightly against the steering wheel. She’s confident and relaxed.
Unlike me.
I feel that familiar twist in my chest again.
She’s out of my league.
Beautiful. Polished. Effortless.
And me?
I frown slightly, shifting in my seat.
I’m just… me.
Someone whose life revolves around routine. Structure. Numbers.
And I wonder if whatever this is will ever work between us.
The thought makes me sadder than it should.
She pulls into a softly lit parking lot and kills the engine.
I glance up at the building. Nocturne.
The name of the restaurant glows in understated gold against a dark backdrop. It’s the kind of swanky place you make reservations for weeks in advance.
“Come on,” she says, already stepping out.
I follow, adjusting my jacket as we walk toward the entrance.
Inside, the world shifts.
Candlelight flickers across polished surfaces. Soft music fills the quiet space.
Everything is… refined.
Violet greets the hostess and gives her name.
I swallow hard.
This is a mistake. I don’t belong here.
Then her warm, steady hand finds mine, grounding me.
I glance down at our hands, then up at her.
Violet smiles at me, leaving me dazed. She gently tugs me forward like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
I move, my hand still clenched in hers.
We’re seated near the back, away from the main flow of people. It’s more private. Quieter.
I take in the space again, trying not to look like I’ve never been somewhere like this before.
I try not to fidget, but fail.
She watches me for a moment, then tilts her head slightly. “What do you think?”
I exhale slowly, leaning back in my chair. “It’s… nice.”
Her lips twitch. “Just nice?”
I huff out a quiet breath. “It’s more than nice. It’s… glamorous.”
Glamorous?
Jesus.
“It’s you,” she says simply.
I blink. “What?”
She gestures lightly around us. “You don’t like loud places. Or crowds. Or anything that feels chaotic.” Her gaze meets mine. “You like control. Quiet. Space to think.”
My fingers still against the table. “That’s… oddly specific.”
A faint smile curves her lips. “I pay attention.”
Something in my chest shifts.
She does pay attention.
I'm starting to think she knows me better than almost anyone.
She smiles, appearing relaxed. Content even. Like there’s nowhere she’d rather be than here with me.
And suddenly, this place doesn’t feel intimidating.
It doesn’t feel like her world.
It feels… comfortable.
I glance around again, seeing it differently this time.
“You picked this for me,” I say. It’s not a question, but a realization.
Her expression softens slightly. “I picked it for us.”
That hits harder than it should.
Dinner passes too quickly.
Conversation comes easily.
Somewhere along the way, I stop worrying whether I belong here.
Later, as we step out into the night, I let out a quiet breath.
“That was…” I shake my head slightly. “Amazing.”
She smiles, satisfied. “I’m glad.”
“You’re amazing, too.” The words spill out without thought.
She cocks her head slightly. “Thank you, Drew.”
Her eyes glow beneath the parking lot lights. The violet is sharper. Heated. Shining like the stars in the sky.
“So are you.” Her voice is deeper and slightly raspy.
My skin hums from her nearness. And even though I’m very aware of her beside me, I’m more relaxed than I’ve been in a long time.
“I’ve known you’re special. Magical. Incredible.” Her smile widens. “Long before tonight.”
My brows raise. How does she know—
“Since that night in the bar, I knew you were special.”
The bar.
Right.
She holds up her keys. “Wanna drive?”
I blink, trying to comprehend her question. “Seriously?”
She lifts a shoulder in a shrug, like it’s no big deal that she’s offering to let me drive her Porsche. “Sure.”
Maybe it's the wine.
Maybe it's finally feeling seen.
Whatever it is... I stop acting like myself.
My hand grips her waist, and I pull her flush with my body. I pluck the keys from her hand, smiling down at her surprised, yet delighted, expression. “Absolutely.”
Then my lips lightly graze hers.
She releases a soft sigh, and I nearly lose control.
But faint voices in the distance remind me where we are.
I pull back, my mouth still close to hers. “Come on. Let’s get out of here.”
I release her, then grab her hand, intertwining our fingers.
“I have an idea,” I say as her heels click against the blacktop.
“You do?” She looks up at me, a look of reverence on her face. “I’m all ears.”
“Why don’t we get some ice cream and go to your place... maybe watch a movie?” My voice lowers slightly. “I’m not ready for tonight to end.”
“I like that idea… a lot.”
I open her car door, then lift her hand and kiss her knuckles. “I knew you would.” I lean over her, snapping her seatbelt into place. “I know you better than you think, Violet Quinn.”
Something flickers in her eyes.
She laughs, then slides into her seat. “You think?”
I shrug. “I got the ice cream and movie correct, didn’t I?”
Her laugh follows me around the car.
I smile to myself as I walk around the hood.
I may not know her as well as she knows me, but I'm getting there.
Right?