Chapter 27 Violet
VIOLET
Idon’t talk to him once he disappears with his brothers after helping me move into my apartment.
I don’t know what I was expecting. Maybe a phone number exchange or…
something? Is that so wrong of me? Probably.
It’s not like I have a lot of experience with the opposite sex, let alone a gorgeous player like Jagger Harden.
Pretty sure it’s only driven me more crazy.
It’s been a week. A really long, confusing week.
Not that I have any right to be confused.
He didn’t promise me anything, except that I owe him.
Three times. Four, if you count the shiny new laptop that mysteriously wound up on the front seat of my car a couple days ago, though I technically don’t have any evidence pinning him to the gift.
The lack of evidence hasn’t helped my anxiety.
I’ve only seen him in class. But I’m not sure that counts, either.
Not when he’s so distracted by actually doing his job.
It shouldn’t bother me. And it doesn’t. Okay, it totally does, but only because he was so thoughtful when I showed up on his doorstep.
Add in his visit to my dad and the way he helped me move in?
I guess I’m a little…confused, though I hate admitting it.
Should I be bothered? Probably not. I was a damsel in distress.
Now, I’m just…a damsel. Who’s in distress about whether or not the distress was any of his business in the first place.
Now, here I am, with my shiny new laptop in the back row of Economics while pretending to look preoccupied with the blank word doc on my screen despite my attention drifting to a certain teacher’s assistant in the front row as the professor drones on and on.
He still hasn’t looked at me. Jagger, not the professor.
I couldn’t care less who the professor looks at.
I shouldn’t care who Jagger looks at, either, but I can’t help myself.
It only confuses me more. Why won’t he look at me?
It’s like he’s actively avoiding this entire section of the room.
Is it because I’m in it? Or am I seriously this deluded?
Probably the latter, let’s be real. So we kissed.
So he helped me move into my new apartment.
So he beat up my dad for hurting me and discreetly handed over a laptop, too, just for shits and giggles.
It doesn’t mean he cares about me. It means he has a heart, which is shocking, I know, but considering everything and the way he’s acting right now, he has plausible deniability.
Besides, no one would believe me even if I did decide to tell anyone about what happened between us.
Which I won’t. Because they wouldn’t believe me, anyway.
Even Lexie would think I’ve lost my marbles. And here we are, going in circles.
It doesn’t matter.
The time ticks by at a snail’s pace until Professor Donahue finally announces class is over for the day.
I stay in my seat, pretending to look busy as the rest of the class files out of the room.
When only a few stragglers remain, I close my fancy laptop and stand, holding my precious new baby to my chest.
I should thank him for it. That’s normal, right? When a person gives you something, you say thank you. It’s either that, or I hand it back to him and curse him out for thinking I’m a freeloader. Which I’m not. But still. Showing a little gratitude never hurt anyone.
When I reach Jagger’s desk, I murmur, “Hey.”
He stares at his desk before looking up at me. The indifference in his gaze chills me all the way to the bone. It’s like I’m a stranger. An absolute stranger. “Can I help you?”
“I, uh, I never had a chance to thank you for…” I lift up my laptop. “For this. I know I technically already thanked you for the haunted—”
A slight spasm hits the edge of his jaw. “Don’t mention it.”
“Well, I’m going to anyway,” I start.
“Hey, Jagger,” someone interrupts. It’s a girl. A really pretty girl. She approaches his desk, clicking her long, French-tipped nails against the oak surface. “You know, I have a bone to pick with you.”
He grins back at her, and just like that, it’s as if I don’t exist at all.
“You do, huh?” he says.
“Mm-hmm.” She sweeps her long hair over one shoulder. “You never called after Halloween—”
My body stiffens.
Halloween? What the hell happened on Halloween?
Were they planning to hook up until I showed up on his doorstep?
Is that why he’s been ignoring me? Okay, ignoring is a bit of a stretch.
It’s not like we run in the same social circles enough for us to be in the same vicinity long enough for him to even have the opportunity to ignore me.
Not until today. Then again, he hasn’t looked at me for the entire ninety minute lecture, so maybe I’m onto something.
Maybe he is ignoring me. What if…what if they already had hooked up on Halloween before I showed up on his doorstep?
What if she was wanting another little soiree or something?
Does it even matter? No, no, it does not.
“So, what do you say?” The girl grabs his bicep and squeezes her arms together, probably giving the bastard a front row seat to her massive boobs in her low-cut top. “Can I cash in your rain check?”
Rain check? Clearly, I missed something while I was hallucinating about what may or may not have happened between us.
Forget thanking him.
Keeping my head held high, I turn toward the exit. And it’s funny. Because no matter how much Jagger pretends I don’t exist, I don’t miss the way his hands flex like he wants to reach out for me.
“Of course,” Jagger replies as I continue my escape. “But it’ll have to wait. I’m still technically at work. Violet!” he calls.
My body stops at the doorway, and my grip tightens on my laptop.
“There’s an assignment I need to discuss with you,” he adds, addressing me.
I want to call his bluff, but on the off chance he isn’t lying, I don’t. Because you know, I kind of need a good grade if I want to keep my scholarship.
Stupid.
Stupid, Violet.
“Call me later, Jagger,” the girl says as the familiar click-clack of heels on the linoleum floor echoes. When she passes me, I’m met with some solid side-eye, and I fight to keep from rolling mine.
Bitch.
“Violet?” Jagger prods behind me.
With a deep breath, I face him again but stay quiet.
“How are you feeling?”
How am I feeling? Is this man serious?
“What?” I say.
Pushing to his feet, he moves around the desk until we’re nearly chest to chest. His dark gaze bounces around my face, but I have no idea what he’s looking for. “The bruising looks better.”
I hold in my scoff. Like he actually cares. “Makeup’s a magical thing,” I reply.
His nod is slow as his gaze ricochets around my face once more.
“So, what about my assignment?” I ask.
“Nothing—”
“All right, then.”
I turn on my heel, but he grabs my wrist. “Wait.”
He glances at the professor across the large room one more time, then leads me into the hallway and outside.
I nearly trip over my feet, reeling, though I have no idea if it’s from the feel of his hand on me or if it’s from utter confusion. “What are you doing—”
“Follow me.”
“Jagger—”
“Come on.” He takes me into an empty room, then closes the door behind us. The click is just as jarring as the sudden turn of events. Crossing his arms, he gives me another hard look. “Why are you mad at me?”
My jaw almost unhinges. He thinks I’m mad at him? Who is this man? “Why were you acting like I didn’t exist?” I shake my head. “Nope. Forget it. Forget I said anything. Now, if you’ll excuse—”
I start to step around him to the door, but he stops me.
“Say it, Little Thief.”
My molars grind. “There’s nothing to say.”
“You seemed pretty determined to say something two minutes ago,” he argues.
“I was until you decided to be an ass again.” Still clutching the laptop in my arms, I fight the urge to shove it against his chest. “Actually, you know what? Fine. I’ll say it.
” I step even closer, forcing myself into his space the same way he so easily forces himself into mine.
“Thank you. Thank you so much for being the biggest asshole on the planet and confusing the hell out of me every single time we interact.”
“Violet,” he warns.
“What?” I snap. “You don’t like it when you’re on the other side of the assholery?
You can only dish it out and can’t take it?
” I jab my finger into his chest. “Is that what it is, Jag Off?” I laugh.
“You know what? I actually think the name’s pretty fitting.
I know you don’t like Ethan and all, but I’m pretty sure he deserves some credit for giving you the most fitting nickname on the whole damn planet, and—”
Jagger smashes his lips to mine, surprising the shit out of me, and boy oh boy, is it a good thing my split lip is mostly healed.
My utter shock only lasts a second until I melt against him.
Parting my lips, I let him explore every inch with his tongue.
Biting. Licking. Sucking. My knees buckle, and the world spins around me as his arm finds my waist, but I don’t miss the gentleness in his touch.
If he was anyone else, I have no doubt he would’ve forgotten my sore ribs, but Jagger?
Nope. Not a chance. He tugs me into him even more, holding me up while kissing the ever-living shit out of me.
And the worst part? It’s even better than I remember.
The feel of his lips on mine. In the hallway at his house, he was so careful, so soft.
But this? This is demanding and greedy and desperate and so damn raw, I can barely think straight.
When he finally rips his mouth from mine, he growls, “There.”
My eyelids flutter as I try to piece together what the hell just happened. “What?”
“Someone had to shut you up.”