29. June
JUNE
The drive home is awkward. Not for Violet.
No, she’s too distracted by Lexie’s disappearance to notice the awkwardness.
To be clear, I’d much rather have Lexie in the car than the idea of her walking home on her own in hopes of staying off Ethan’s radar, but the fact that Violet’s too distracted to notice the awkwardness?
I mean, a perk’s a perk, right? If only I could stop thinking about what happened in the room with Ford.
It’s not that I regret it. I don’t. I actually really liked it, if I’m being honest. But what does it mean?
And does it have to mean anything? I mean, he’s Ford Harden.
The guy could probably flirt the panties off a nun.
Heck, he probably already has. It wouldn’t surprise me.
Yet for some reason I genuinely can’t explain, a not-so-small part of me wants to believe that it was different this time.
That he didn’t just follow me into that room because he likes my boobs, but because he likes… me.
And then he left.
The reminder stings more than I’d like to admit, but there isn’t anything I can do about it.
If anything, I should grab hold of it. The evidence of who Ford truly is and what he wants from me, even if I’m delusional enough to want to deny it.
To play the stupid game of “I can change him,” when I’m well aware that logic will only hurt me in the end.
Violet’s car slows on the empty road, and I sit up a little straighter, peering out the windshield.
I’m not sure when we turned off the main road, but this one is vaguely familiar, too.
Maybe she’s taking us back to Harden Heights a different way?
Why are we stopping? The question sits on the tip of my tongue, but before I have a chance to voice it aloud, Violet mumbles, “Jagger’s going to kill me. ”
“What is it?” I ask.
Violet flicks on the blinker to… Wait, is this Lexie’s street?
“I’m not supposed to come here,” she mumbles.
A buzzing sounds from the cup holder. Violet’s phone lights up with an image of Jagger kissing Violet’s cheek.
Curious, Violet reaches for her cell and slides her thumb across the screen.
“Jag?” She stays quiet before humming, “Mm-hmm. Yup. I’m just on my way home right now.
” Silence. “No, I’m not lying.” Pause. With a frown, she peers into her rearview mirror, searching for something.
“Where are you?” Silence. “Look, she disappeared, and she needs her phone—yes. Yes, I know, I’m not supposed to hang out in Drift territory by myself, but—” She hesitates again, her nostrils flaring as she listens to whatever her boyfriend’s saying through her cell.
Finally, she grits out, “Are you serious, Jag?”
“What is it?” I whisper.
“Okay, fine,” Violet says. “Fine, I’m pulling over.
” Gravel crunches beneath her tires as she pulls onto the side of the road.
“Yes, I pulled over.” She sighs. “And also, tell Hawke he’s a tattletale.
” Pause. “Fine, I’ll tell him myself.” Pause.
“Yes.” The edge of her mouth lifts. “I love you, too.” Then, she hangs up the call and puts her car in park, but keeps the engine running.
“What was that about?” I ask.
“Jagger knew I was going to drop by Lexie’s.”
My brows pinch. “How?”
“Hawke,” she answers when a knuckle taps against the passenger window, and I nearly jump out of my skin.
On the opposite side of the passenger door stands a man in a black hoodie with the hood pulled up.
The lower half of a chiseled jaw painted as a skeleton peeks through the gap.
I clutch at my chest, trying to calm my nerves while my brain processes the view.
It’s official, this road is way too creepy and abandoned to sneak up on people like this!
“It’s Hawke,” Violet explains, sensing my minor freak-out. “He’s going to deliver Lexie’s phone to her.” She motions to the old-school window roller. Taking the hint, I manually roll down the window, and Violet leans forward in her seat. With a smile, she greets him. “Hey, Hawke.”
“Vi,” he grumbles before glancing at me. “June.”
“Hi.” I give him an awkward wave, willing my still-racing heart to slow the crap down despite recognizing the stranger.
He looks…frustrated. Brows pinched. Jaw tight.
Scowl firmly in place. I wonder what has him all riled up?
Is it really the fact that Violet’s spending more time in The Drift than Jagger would like, or is it because of a certain bombshell brunette who disappeared from tonight’s event?
My money’s on the latter. You know, if I was a betting woman.
Not that it’s any of my business. If I’ve learned anything from my encounter with Ford, it’s not to judge a book by its cover and all that.
Reaching his arm into the window, Hawke grunts, “Phone.”
Violet grabs Lexie’s cell from the center console and hands it to him. “You sure she’s okay?”
Tucking the phone into the front pocket of his hoodie, he says, “She’ll be fine.”
“That’s not an answer,” Violet pushes. I don’t miss the slight tremble in her voice. It only worries me more. “Is she okay, Hawke?” Violet repeats.
His fingers turn white along the edge of the metal window frame. “It was close, but I don’t think he caught her.”
Violet nods. “And if he had?”
“I would’ve killed him.” Hawke pauses again and lowers his head. “June?”
“Yeah?”
“You got a little…” His thumb skates against the edge of his own mouth. “A little face paint. Right here.”
I reach up and wipe at the spot in question with the back of my hand.
Seriously? I thought I wiped it all off.
Amusement slips through his prickly demeanor, and if he were his little brother, I have no doubt he’d kick the teasing up a notch.
Instead, he surprises me and lets go of the edge of Violet’s car.
A loud thump reverberates through the cab as he taps the top. “Get out of here. And no more side quests, all right?”
“Okay,” Violet concedes. “See ya, Hawke.”
“See ya around, ladies.” And just like that, he steps back into the bushes, letting the darkness swallow his presence as quickly as when he appeared out of nowhere two minutes ago.
I stare at the dark bushes for another beat, but he’s gone.
Seriously, Hawke is one of the most mercurial people I’ve ever met, and if I wasn’t so distracted by my own love life, I’d wonder why he followed Lexie home instead of hanging out at his own family’s event like his brothers. Hmm.
Following Hawke’s orders, Violet makes a U-turn and heads back to the main road leading to Harden Heights.
And it’s strange. How different the two pieces of land really are.
I never paid enough attention to notice before meeting Violet.
Honestly, I didn’t venture into The Drift enough to notice the differences.
Period. It’s true, though. There’s a grittiness to The Drift, while Harden Heights boasts more of a polished, clean-cut persona.
Even the air changes. It’s more…suffocating in The Drift.
Heavier, maybe. Or maybe Violet’s perspective is rubbing off on me.
If I had her past, I’d keep a wide berth, for sure.
And if it wasn’t for Lexie, and her boyfriend’s Harden Nights, I’m pretty sure Violet would, too.
I wonder what made The Drift like this? Was it always this way? With broken windows and crumbling asphalt. The buildings gray or graffitied, and the once-grassy areas swallowed by yellow and brown weeds.
“So, uh, about that face paint…” Violet prods as she drives us back home.
I groan, letting my head fall forward. “Don’t ask.”
“Hey, no judgment,” she replies. Surprisingly, there isn’t any teasing in her words. Simply an open acceptance with a tinge of curiosity. It only makes me like her more. “Just want to make sure you’re okay,” she clarifies.
I peek over at her through my messy strands. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“Because he’s Ford,” she offers. “I love him like a brother, but he’s never had a very long…” Her nose scrunches as she searches for the right word. “Attention span?”
I choke out a mirthless laugh. “Don’t worry. I’m well aware who Ford is and how long his attention span lasts.” And tonight proved it, firsthand, I silently add.
“Good.” Violet sits up a little straighter, giving her focus back to the main road. “Really good. As long as you two are on the same page and your long-term expectations are in check, then yay. I’m happy for you.”
Long-term expectations? What are my long-term expectations?
I’d like to say I don’t have any, but the truth is…
before Violet turned onto Lexie’s road, I was very much circling around said expectations, including the ludicrous possibility of Ford actually liking me, and maybe even sticking around if he hadn’t gotten that phone call.
“So, how was it?” Violet teases. There it is. The amusement I expected from the very beginning. I guess there’s nothing to worry about as long as I’m aware of Ford’s patterns and how much I fit into them. No standing out. No being the exception. Not that I wanted to be, it’s just…
“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” she continues. “All I’m saying is that he’s Ford, and from what I’ve heard, the man’s…”
She doesn’t finish her sentence, and I hate the way it leaves me on pins and needles. “He’s what?” I ask.
Her mouth curves up as she gives me the side-eye and searches for the right word. “Talented?”
Talented? Did she really just say that? My face heats at her insinuation before I blurt out, “We didn’t have sex, we just…
” My clit pulses in my underwear at the flashback of his hands on my skin.
His low, gravelly voice. The way I felt him through his jeans.
Hard and ready and…okay, if we hadn’t been in public, there’s a pretty big possibility I would’ve let him do whatever he wanted.
Oh, who am I kidding? I did let him do whatever he wanted.
So, why didn’t we go all the way? Maybe he didn’t have a condom.
It makes sense. He might be spontaneous, but he isn’t stupid.
Or maybe he underestimated my attraction to him, thinking we’d take things slow until I was ready.
Ready for what? And who has the patience for that? Ford sure as heck doesn’t.
“June?” Violet murmurs.
“It was good,” I reply. I could go on and on. I could tell her exactly what happened and how he made me feel. But I refuse to ramble or open up a can of worms I’d rather keep closed, at least for the short term, even if Violet is my best friend.
“Good,” she repeats. Her stare burns a hole in the side of my face, and it doesn’t take a genius to realize she’s probing for details.
“Really good,” I offer vaguely.
“Okay,” she laughs even harder. “Really good. Got it.” Reaching over, she gently pushes my shoulder. “Good for you. Both of you,” she decides. “Now, let’s get you home.”