Chapter 17 Violet
SEVENTEEN
VIOLET
OCTOBER | COLUMBUS, OHIO
Colton and I walked side by side in Columbus’s artsy district, the Short North, sampling our waffle cones, chit-chatting, and window shopping.
Colt was quick to laugh, quick to smile, quick to scrunch up his nose when he giggled.
Men rarely giggle, but Colton did. We weren’t even talking about anything in particular, just riffing off each other’s nonsense.
I didn’t realize how many knots had developed in my stomach until they were gone, lost to Colt talking so much his ice cream cone dripped.
We stopped in front of a plant shop, my eyes taking in the spectrum of green from all the tropical plants inside.
“You wanna go in?” Colt asked.
I scoffed. “You saw my apartment. The last thing I need is another plant to take care of.”
He shrugged. “Come on. There’s need and there’s want. I don’t need to eat ice cream, but it’s delicious.”
“Speak for yourself. I need ice cream.”
Again that eye-crinkling, upper lip lifting smile creased his face. “You need a new plant too. My treat. Come on. Let’s go in.”
I grabbed his wrist and tugged him away from the door. “My other plants will yell at me if I bring another one home.”
“Then it’s your fault for raising mean plants! They’re cliquey!”
We came face to face and his wrist was still in my hand. I let it drop. “Sorry.”
Colt’s lips were parted and he wasn’t breathing. “Yeah, it’s no big deal.”
His eyes drifted down to my lips and his expression softened. Oh god. This wasn’t part of the plan. I set the friends barrier, but why did I do that? Was this self-preserving or self-destructive?
No. I made the decision when I was of sound mind. I had my reasons. I had to stick to them. It wasn’t just about me. It was about protecting Colton from my unreliable brain too. I didn’t want to scold him by bringing it up, but I was saved by the bell.
Or, I guess, the cone.
A drip of ice cream was headed right for his fingers.
“You’re dripping,” I said, more breathlessly than I planned.
“Ah, crap.” Colt turned his cone and ran his tongue along the side to catch the running ice cream. And the whore he was, he made eye contact with me while he licked the drip.
I turned my face away to hide my hot cheeks. Right then, a rogue pair of rollerbladers approached us from behind and I had to jump out of the way.
Into Colton’s arms.
How I didn’t dip my elbow in his ice cream cone, I don’t know. But I do know that Colton shielded me with his body and leaned out to bark at the rollerbladers. “Hey! You can’t just run over people!”
One of them flipped him off over his shoulder.
Colt lunged their way. “Oh, you wanna bring that back here?”
“Colt, easy! You never know who’s actually unhinged.”
“That guy almost ran over you, Violet!” he argued with wild eyes.
I had to hold back a laugh. “You gonna Jones a rollerblader on a city street? Is this how it starts at work for you?”
He pinched his lips together and fought a smile. “As a matter of fact, it is.”
“Yeah?” I asked, and there we were again, face to face, his eyes dancing between mine. This had to quit happening. “Come on. Let’s go see what other shops there are.”
We walked on. I was eating my last scrap of waffle cone when we stalled outside a bookstore. I was mesmerized, my eyes bouncing over all the covers, the promise each one held.
And the potential danger within for me.
“You still like to read?” Colt asked.
“Yeah.”
“Let’s go in.”
My stomach tugged. This would be my first time book shopping since I knew what happened to me. I held up my hands and rubbed my fingers together. “I’m all sticky.”
Colt cocked his head at me. “I’m sure they have hand sanitizer or something to de-stick you. Come on. Show me what you’ve been reading. I should read more. I need good recs.”
I hesitated a second longer, then caved. “You’re saying Mr. Partial Literature Degree doesn’t read every day?”
He blustered, “I’m a busy man.” I worked to not let my smile falter. What was he busy with? Women? He strode to the counter and picked up a pump bottle of hand sanitizer. “See? Ready for your patronage.”
I rubbed the hand sanitizer between my hands and started to wander the tables and stacks.
I perused the new releases table, heavy on lit fic and non-fiction.
Things I was supposed to like. Things my dad would approve of because they expanded my mind.
So-called enrichment. I picked one up to read the back, but zoned out quickly.
My eye was drawn to a sky blue cover with a cartoon man and woman on it.
The title was a ridiculous pun: Seas the Day.
I imagined what romantic whimsy lay on its pages, whether it was spicy or spice-free.
I missed spice. Getting invested in a couple and taking the falling-in-love journey with them.
Experiencing the thrill of discovering each other that way: what they like, how to make them feel good. Letting them make you feel good.
The way Colt had me pinned to my couch not that long ago. Every time I looked at my couch now, I had slutty thoughts.
Suddenly, I felt watched, and looked up to find Colt staring at me. I snapped my attention back to the book in my hand, some thinkpiece from an NPR analyst. While NPR was great for my morning commute, I wasn’t thrilled at the prospect of that being my bedtime reading.
Colton pulled it out of my hand and set it back on the table. “You want to look at that other one. Go look at it.”
I opened my mouth to give some response and Colt grabbed me by the shoulders, steering me to the romance shelves. On the way, he spoke low in my ear, making the hairs on my neck rise. “You don’t have to be embarrassed about reading some love stories.”
“I’m not embarrassed.”
“Which one?” he asked, letting his fingers hover over each book.
I pulled Seas the Day off the shelf for myself and flipped it over.
“You know, when Gramma died we found a bajillion of those, what are they called? Shirt rippers?”
“Bodice rippers,” I supplied.
He snapped and pointed at me. “Yes. Bodice rippers. Some of them even had dirty pictures in them. Dad was all wigged out but I thought it was kinda fun. Gramma was a freak. Who knew?”
“Well, your gramma was awesome, but we already knew that.”
“Exactly,” he said. “So read what you want to read! Shame free.”
“It’s not shame. It’s . . .” I sighed. “I love to read those, but sometimes they have stuff in them that sets me off. Messes me up for days.”
Colt looked perplexed. “What, like dogs dying or something?”
I chewed my lip, searching his face and hoping he’d figure it out. “No. Like what we talked about the other night.”
“Oh!” Colt’s eyes lit up, then he grimaced. “Ohhhh. Sorry. A little slow on the uptake.”
I nodded. “It’s okay. Most give content warnings, but sometimes they miss one and it throws me off.”
“Well, let’s see about this one,” Colt said, picking up another copy of Seas the Day. He cleared his throat. “‘It’s anchors aweigh with love! She’s overboard, but will he be able to right the ship in choppy waters?’”
“Colt,” I whined.
“What? This sounds good! I love puns.”
I planted him with a look. “Don’t make fun of romance.”
He put a hand up. “I’m not! I’m not. Promise.
I wrote a paper on romance as a genre freshman year.
It props up the entire publishing industry.
” His eyes lit up. “Wait! Let me read them first. I can let you know if anything bad is in them. I can tape up the bad pages, or just tell you if you shouldn’t read it. ”
There it was again: that motivational, always-on-your-side, hockey captain personality. The guy I pushed away violently twice in our lives, and he was still showing up and actively participating in my life. I tried to give him an out.
“That’s very sweet, but I don’t need a fox in the hen house like that.”
He slapped the book to his heart. “These aren’t just for women! I mean, mostly, probably. But other people read them. Even straight men!”
I smiled, remembering a series I’d been eyeballing for a while. “There’s a whole book series to that effect, actually.”
Colton’s face was so hopeful, so sunny. “See? Okay. Do it. Pick anything. Whatever you want. I’ll read it first and do a Violet edit on it.”
Tears pricked the back of my eyes. After everything we’d weathered, everything I put him through, he was still willing to be my cheerleader. To do anything to make me happy. “You’d do that?”
His brows knit. “Of course.” He flicked his chin toward the shelf in front of us. “Pick whatever you want. As many as you want. My treat.”
I studied him, searching those bright eyes for any indication that he was putting himself out for this. Overextending himself. But all I saw was Colton in his most genuine form. I stood straighter and reached for another book. “Let’s see what might be fun to read together.”
“Oh, together?” He sounded a little too excited by the prospect, and his excitement carried me into giddiness.
“If we get two copies, I can be right behind where you’re reading.”
We went on, browsing and comparing notes on what looked good. I filled Colt’s arms until an employee brought over a basket for him.
By the time we were ready to check out, we had an overflowing basket of options: a billionaire and his assistant, a college romance, a cowboy romance, a small town series set in Louisiana, and, of course, Seas the Day. Colt thumped the basket up on the counter.
“We should probably get some tote bags too, right?” he asked, following my gaze to the display behind the counter. “Or are you looking at . . .”
“That t-shirt,” I said. It was a pink shirt with bold letters: “BUY ME BOOKS AND TELL ME I’M PRETTY.”
“Two tote bags. And that shirt for her,” Colt said to the cashier.
“Colt,” I objected.
“What size?” the employee asked with a knowing smile.
Colt put out a hand. “Yeah, what size, Violet? We’re all waiting.”
I shot him a glare that covered my grin. “You’re gonna pay for this.”
Colt pulled out his wallet and held it up. “Yeah, that’s the idea.”
I rolled my eyes and stomped my foot, and Colton laughed.
I sighed. I wasn’t winning this one. “Biggest size you’ve got. It looks comfy for sleep.”
Colt quirked a brow. “I thought you slept in your bedclothes?”
My mouth gaped. “You remember that?”
I tended to sleep naked, and I’ve always justified it that sheets are called “bedclothes” for a reason.
Colt leaned in to speak in my ear. “I had a hot girlfriend during my formative years who liked to sleep naked, Violet. Of course I remember.”
The cashier announced the total, a number I’d never let myself spend at the bookstore. Colt tapped his card and leaned an elbow on the counter.
“By the way, you’re pretty.” He winked at me.
I shot him a quizzical look and he gestured to one of our tote bags, now full of books. “You know. The shirt. I bought you books and told you you’re pretty.”