Chapter 37 Jagger
JAGGER
Fuck me. She’s beautiful. I open the passenger side door and offer my hand, helping Violet inside.
I haven’t been on a date since high school.
I haven’t needed to. Harden Nights were more than enough to facilitate easy hookups with random girls, no date necessary.
Does it make me an ass? Yes. Is it somewhat biting me in said ass at this moment?
Also, yes. Once she’s tucked safely in the passenger seat, I climb in behind the steering wheel but hesitate before backing out of the parking spot.
“I planned out a few options for tonight, but first I need to know if you have any allergies,” I tell her.
Violet shrugs. “Not that I know of.”
What the hell does that mean?
My mouth twitches because seriously, what kind of answer is that? Smoothing my expression, I ask, “You don’t know?”
She looks down at her lap. “I mean, I’ve never reacted to anything, but I also eat the same things ninety-nine percent of the time, so…”
“So, you’re picky?” I prod.
“No?”
Hiding my amusement, I scratch the side of my mouth. “You’re not sure?”
With a huff, she glowers at me. “Not all of us have thousands of dollars to spend on frivolous things.”
“Like…food?” I offer dryly. The girl can’t be serious.
A mock glare ignites in her pretty gaze as she presses her lips together.
“Let me rephrase,” I say, because even though I like getting under the girl’s skin, being flayed alive isn’t on our itinerary for this evening. “Do you like Thai?”
Violet’s shoulders lift in another shrug. “I don’t know. I’ve never had it.”
My eyes bulge. “You’ve never had Thai?”
Seriously, who is this girl?
“Stop looking at me like I’ve grown a second head,” she whines. “I’m already nervous enough as it is.”
Nervous? She’s nervous? The revelation makes my chest swell with interest, while managing to ease my own nerves in the process. It’s a reminder of how she’s as new to this as I am.
“Okay, let’s try this one more time.” I smooth out my expression and reach for her hand.
“Would you, Violet Reeves, be interested in trying something new tonight, or would you prefer to stick to a comfort food you’ve had before and have enjoyed, or would you like me to take the lead and make all the decisions? ”
The furrow in her brow smooths as she studies me carefully. “You can decide,” she murmurs.
Perfect.
“Then I think it’s time we expose you to something other than peanut butter and coffee.
” She gasps, her expression already twisting back to the faux outrage from seconds ago, but I bring her hand to my lips and kiss the back of it.
“Not that there’s anything wrong with peanut butter and coffee,” I clarify.
“All I’m saying is…new isn’t always bad. Am I right?”
She runs her thumb along the back of my hand, though I can’t decide if she realizes it. The subtle movement. Whether it’s subconscious or deliberate. I’m not sure it matters, either. This girl has a way of making even the most innocent of touches feel like…more.
“Or,” I offer, “I can get you an entire jar of peanut butter and a spoon, and we can hang out at my place, but I don’t know if that’s technically a date. Not that I care, but if our goal is to label this as dating instead of fucking, then—”
“You’d do that?” she asks. “Change all your plans for the night just for me?”
The girl has no idea.
Only half-kidding, I grumble, “I have a feeling I’d do a lot for you.”
My confession must hit the right mark because a bright grin nearly splits her face in two. “Now that, I like.”
“Me doing shit for you?”
“No. Me affecting you to the point of you wanting to do shit for me,” she clarifies. “Call me crazy, but I don’t get the vibe you’ve ever really sacrificed or even…put in a lot of effort for a girl.”
A booming laugh echoes through me. I can’t tell if I’m flattered or offended she called me out so easily. “What gave it away?”
“You’re a Harden.”
Well, shit.
Reining in my defensiveness, I roll my eyes in hopes of hiding my actual response to her assessment.
I shouldn’t care. Besides, it’s true. I am a Harden.
And I’ve never had to sacrifice for a girl, or put any effort into getting laid.
I’ve never cared about any of them enough to put forth an effort.
But has my last name made me this way, or is it the genetics I share with my asshole of a father or is it…
is it me? Am I the problem? “Well, when you put it that way,” I say.
“Should we go inside so I can fuck your brains out now? Or…”
Shifting closer, she leans over the center console. Her touch is gentle, hesitant even, as she grabs my chin and urges me to look at her. “I’m sorry.”
Sorry? What does she have to be sorry for?
“You don’t need to apologize,” I tell her.
“Yeah, I do.” She hesitates, her nose scrunching in the most adorable way possible. It manages to sneak past my defensiveness and burrow under my skin. “Do you want the truth, Jagger Harden?”
I nod.
“In The Drift, everyone talks about your family like they’re the villain.
The Hardens have the connections. The resources.
The money. The entitlement. And even though I’m getting to know the real you, it’s still my knee-jerk reaction to lump you in with the made-up villain they’ve spouted at me since I was a little kid. ”
Well, shit. Talk about speaking the truth. If I ever wanted a girl who isn’t afraid of bruising my ego, I think I’ve found her.
“To be fair, it’s not entirely made up,” I concede. “My family does have connections, and resources, and money, and entitlement.”
“And generosity, and creativity, and thoughtfulness.” She leans in and kisses me before smiling against my mouth. “And a really good cock.”
My chuckle comes out on a breath. “Glad it’s good for something.”
“Definitely good for something.” She kisses me again like she can’t help herself.
“The truth is, I never grew up with a lot of food, or a variety of food in general. I know you kind of already knew that, but it’s why I don’t know if I have allergies.
It’s why I don’t know if I like Thai food.
It’s why I’m still as skinny as I am. Because the idea of eating until I’m satiated means there’s a possibility there won’t be food for the next meal.
It’s why high-calorie meals like peanut butter were a staple, and why I made a dig about you being a Harden, even if it was unjustified.
” She takes a deep breath. “So. In the same way you’re here, painting the Harden name with a new brush, I, the poor girl from The Drift, will do the same.
Take me wherever you want, Mr. Harden, but only if you promise I can have dessert. ”
Grabbing her chin with my thumb and the knuckle of my forefinger, I press my mouth against hers, kissing her once more.
Now that she’s opened the door, I have no problem using it to my advantage as often as possible.
The feel of her full lips is enough to make my blood run south, but I force myself to lean back.
If I don’t, we’ll never make it to dinner, and the entire date portion of the evening will go up in flames.
“Dessert, huh?” I peck her one more time.
“I can make it happen on one condition.”
“Oh?”
“You promise to let me have dessert, too.”
A grin plays at the edge of her lips. “I’m sure that can be arranged.”
“Good girl.” I let her go and grip the back of her headrest with one hand while shifting to look over my shoulder as I back out of the parking spot.
When we arrive at the restaurant a little while later, Violet doesn’t bother opening her menu.
Instead, she tells me to order for her, promising she’ll go in with an open mind.
I ask for a variety of everything, and by the time she’s tasted each dish, she’s leaning back in her chair, and rubbing her stomach like she’s six months pregnant.
“Okay, so that was delicious,” she says.
“What was your favorite?”
Scanning the barely-touched plates, she tilts her head. “Definitely the Pad Thai, Tom Yum soup, and the…red curry, for sure.”
I make a mental note and lean forward, pushing aside a few of the plates as the waitress approaches.
“Will there be anything else?” the waitress asks.
I quirk my brow at Violet, but she waves me off. “I’m good.”
“What about dessert?” I prod.
“Dude.” She rubs her belly again. “I am way too full.”
“A deal’s a deal, remember?”
“Fiiiine,” Violet drags out, but I don’t miss the subtle tilt of her mouth. Call me crazy, but I think my girl likes being doted on. “Then, uh, you pick,” she decides. “I’m good with whatever.”
Looking up at the waitress, I say, “We’ll take the mango sticky rice and a bunch of to-go boxes for the leftovers. Thanks.”
“Coming right up.”
As the waitress leaves, I catch Violet’s frown.
“There a problem?” I ask.
“I thought you said a deal’s a deal.”
“And?”
“And you said if I get dessert, I have to promise to let you have dessert, too,” she reminds me.
“And?” I repeat.
“Does that mean we’re sharing? I mean, it’s fine, I already feel like my stomach is going to burst, but—”
“The mango rice is for you.”
“Then what about your dessert?” she challenges. “If a deal’s a deal, then I believe I owe you.”
Add it to the list, I want to tell her, but instead, I lean my elbows against the table and drop my voice low, revealing the truth.
“Unless you’d like to climb onto this table right now and spread those pretty little thighs, I suggest we wait until we get back to my place.
” A light pink sweeps across her cheeks, and her lips part on a gasp.
Maybe I shouldn’t have said it. Maybe I shouldn’t assume we’re going to wind up in one of each other’s beds tonight. But the thing about Violet is…I don’t give a shit.
“Is that a problem, Little Thief?” I challenge.
She shakes her head. “N-no?”
“Good girl.” With a snap of my fingers, I grab our waitress’s attention. “Check, please.”