Chapter 19
FINN
I brING VIOLET AND I back to the bed and breakfast, both sun-drenched and sleepy from our afternoon at the beach. We’ve agreed to rest a bit before going over to my brother’s for dinner tonight. Alba and Rose are meeting us there as well.
That was a very good day, Violet, I say to her as I park the car in front of our two cabins.
Thanks for going along with my antics at the beach.
Possessed, again, with an urge to touch her, I lean over and ruffle her hair, which is still damp from the ocean.
I expect her to bat me away, but she looks more like a puppy being pet than anything.
We’ve got to agree on what we tell the others tonight.
Her face is suddenly devoid of all joy again. What do you mean?
Well, we should have a strategy. Make sure we’re saying the same thing.
She makes a face, like she doesn’t like lying to her friends.
I guess we say… I don’t know, do we have to say anything at all?
I smirk. Maybe not, but you and I both know that those numpties will be asking questions.
She sighs, loudly, wiping her palms on the bottom of her dress. Fidgety and anxious, she says, We’ll say we had a really nice time and, I don’t know, sparks were flying. She laughs like this is funny. I do not find that funny at all.
Well then, we won’t even have to lie, I say before I’ve really thought about it.
Violet almost flinches, like I’ve said something cruel, and I feel a surge of tenderness towards her. I can tell she’s sensitive, and takes everything very seriously. Again, that impulse to reach out, and I give in again, reaching my hand to give her shoulder a shake.
You’re up to high doh, Violet. She gives me a blank, almost concerned look which I take to mean she doesn’t get my meaning. You’re too stressed out.
My hand, somehow of its own volition, rubs soothing circles on her exposed skin, where her neck and shoulders meet. She closes her eyes and something wild and hot shoots through me. I should stop.
But I don’t.
It’s not stressing me out, she says, and I’ve completely forgotten what we were even talking about.
She opens her eyes to look over at me. It’s a good plan, Finn.
It’ll help shut my family up and stop seeing me as this pathetic loser or something.
And that’s really all I can ask for right now.
She leans back and her eyes flutter closed again.
I’m struggling to follow what she’s saying.
You’re not a pathetic loser, I say, a little dazed.
Oh, I am. And a total weirdo too, remember?
Violet gives me a look that’s both a challenge and a flicker of something like hurt. I rack my brain, trying to understand what she means, but come up empty.
She shakes me off, muttering, Never mind. She gathers her things and steps out of the car.
I feel a wee bit like I’ve done something wrong, but I’m not sure what I’ve done.
We’ll meet back here at six to go together? I call out to her, aware that I sound a little too keen.
Yeah, she says, smiling, but it’s not a real smile. See you in a bit.
I ONLY GET WHAT FEELS like five minutes to stare up at my ceiling and wonder about my conversation with Violet, thinking back on our day together, before it’s already time to start getting ready to leave again.
My brain, somehow of its own accord, keeps replaying us at the beach—Violet showing off her tattoos, me touching, greedily, the exposed skin and feeling desperate and hungry for more.
I want to be more of a gentleman, but unfortunately all I can think about is running my mouth along those same places.
Shaking myself out of a stupor, I pull on a clean, grey T-shirt, having already rinsed off from the beach the moment I got back to my room.
I shut the cabin door, not bothering to lock it behind me, and start to head out towards the Jeep. But I slow my pace as a thought pops into my head.
What would a boyfriend do?
A boyfriend, surely, would not meet her in the car. I turn around, heading for her door instead. A boyfriend might also have some flowers, you muppet.
Flowers? Where the fuck am I going to—oh. Behind the cabins, wild daisies are blowing gently in the evening breeze. I pick one, planning to pick a few more, but feel a little bad pulling them out of the earth.
When the hell did I get so concerned about plant life?
Shaking my head, I take the single daisy with me back to Violet’s door. I reach out to knock, but the door flings open, and Violet almost runs smack into me.
Ah! She screams, surprised to find me there, a hard wall of stone. I grab her arms to support her, and my god, she smells good. Something sweet like caramel with a hint of coffee—my brain conjures up lazy mornings in bed.
Easy there, I say. When she stands up and looks at me, I feel my heart pounding wildly.
She’s wearing a soft—and I know it’s soft because I just felt it pressed up against me—light blue dress.
The neckline is low but the sleeves are a little puffed up.
Her hair has been mostly dried and smoothed and if she’s said anything to me in the last thirty seconds, I’ve not heard a word of it.
Sorry? I say, my voice croaking. What the fuck?
She smiles. I didn’t say anything.
Well, fuck me gently. I cough, trying to get a grip on myself.
You look lovely, Violet. You ready?
Is that for me? She gestures to the forgotten daisy in my right hand.
Ah, this, aye. I figure even pretend boyfriends should bring flowers—or in this case, one flower.
She takes it from me, spinning the stem in her hands.
Thanks Finn, she says, smiling a secret smile. No one’s ever gotten me flowers before, or even one flower. She looks up at me, beaming, but I feel like something in my chest has crumpled. But I don’t have any flowers for you, I feel bad.
It’s all right darling, I already have a Violet.
She smiles again and—what the fuck is going on here?
I assume she’ll leave the flower behind, but instead she tucks it behind her right ear, where several gold earrings are dangling. Should we go?
I’d go anywhere with you—what the fucking fuck Finn, that’s quite enough of that.
Aye, we should, I say, leading her to the car and opening her door.
So gentlemanly, she says, repeating her phrase from earlier today and I try not to notice the huge inflation in my chest. Calm down, you bloody fool.
Before I’ve even put on my seatbelt, Violet has taken over control of the music. The drive is so short I’m not sure we’ll get through a single song.
She rolls down the window, putting her hand out through the warm, blowing breeze.
The sky is starting to turn pink and it’s a stunning evening.
Too bad it’ll all go to shite at the lake house, with my mother’s constant fretting, Florence’s fury, and my brother’s uncertainty about how to handle either of those things.
As we pull into the driveway, it occurs to me that I should probably tell Violet about my conversation with Florence.
A warning, my lovely Violet, I start, pulling her from whatever daydream she was having out the window. She looks at me curiously. My god she is so lovely, it sends an acidic wave through my stomach. I swallow it down and try to think of a delicate way to share this.
Florence seems none too pleased with the idea of you and I together.
What makes you say that? She sounds tentative. I sigh.
She and I had… words about it.
Violet has turned fully to face me now, pulling her legs up onto the seat. Her bare, tanned legs. But her voice snaps me back to our conversation.
What did she say, exactly? There’s an iciness to her tone now. I don’t want to get Florence in shit, but it occurs to me that Violet might not like someone else meddling in her life—especially given what I know about her family.
She was warning me. She’s worried I’m going to treat this like a casual thing. I told her it was not like that, but I can only imagine what my brother said about me that had her react this way, I try to laugh the last bit off like it’s nothing. She’s only trying to protect you.
What does it matter if you and I were only a fling? What does that have to do with her?
Fuck, I’ve poked at something here. Violet, I—
No, you don’t get it. I am so unbelievably tired of everyone else forming these ideas or opinions about me, like I can’t handle myself. I’m thirty-three years old, I’m not a child.
I don’t think it was like that, I say again. I really think it had everything to do with me, and nothing to do with you.
Well, I don’t like that either, she adds, her tone defensive. She doesn’t even know you.
This makes me smile. I can tell Violet is angry but I have to fight the urge to laugh. I do not, however, fight the urge to reach over and squeeze her knee.
No, she doesn’t know me. But I can handle Florence, I only wanted to let you know. I’ve got a feeling she’s going to try and talk you out of this. I hasten to add, Which is fine, you can change your mind about this mad idea at any point. You know that.
I don’t want to. She says it so simply, so fiercely, it feels as though I might never get in a full breath of air again. And as far as I’m concerned, you and I are a team in this—fake dating or not.
I can’t seem to shake the feeling of losing my footing. A team. If only it were that simple.
Well, I tell her, parking the car and turning the engine off. The offer stands, Violet. All you have to do is say the word.
But I’m starting to think if she changed her mind, it wouldn’t be that easy for me.