Chapter four #2
She doesn’t flinch or look away. Those gray eyes of hers lock onto mine. They’re cold and unblinking—daring me to look away first.
I don’t.
The stare stretches between us until she finally turns slowly, giving the asshole she’s with her full attention. Her choice has been made, and it’s crystal clear.
He looks about her age, slicked-back hair and an expensive suit. His hand sits low on her back, and when she leans in to say something, her head tilts just enough that her sheet of black hair trails over his fingers.
I slam my glass down and push to my feet. The guys call after me, but I don’t answer. People in the crowd part as I move through it. Some stare, some do double-takes, others whisper, but I don’t give a shit.
By the time I reach her, she’s laughing again, a perky polished chuckle that sounds out of key. It’s not her real laugh. I’d know the difference anywhere.
She catches sight of me before I speak. Her gaze lifts and hooks into mine, a faint smile playing on her mouth.
“Carter,” she says, my name slipping off her tongue as easily as smoke.
“Violet.”
My eyes bore into hers. Up close, the changes are impossible to ignore; her features have matured, cheekbones more cut, lips fuller, and the tiny diamond in her nose was made for her. She’s not the girl I used to know, not in her face and definitely not in the way she holds herself now.
“It’s Sara, actually.”
I pitch a brow.
Okay. She wants to play? Let’s play.
“Oh man, you’re Carter Ashford,” the dweeb beside her gushes. “I’m a huge fan.”
Here we go.
“You’re an absolute god on that guitar, man.”
My eyes stay on her, not moving an inch. The corner of my mouth twitches.
She rolls her eyes, and that’s all it takes for my smirk to break into a grin. I fish a pack of smokes from my jacket, tap one free, and light up. No one’s going to say shit about me smoking inside.
I exhale a thin stream of smoke. “So . . . you two on a date?” I ask, moving my hand holding the cigarette back and forth between them.
She leans into his side, looping her hand around his forearm and pulling on it so he’ll look down at her.
I almost laugh. This dweeb is too starstruck to pick up what she’s putting down.
When she finally manages to pull his attention away from me, she says, “Yeah, we’ve been together for a few months now,” and presses her lips to his, trying to smother his confusion along with the truth.
The kiss is barely that, a peck on the lips. I’ve seen more passion between two eighty-year-olds. Still, the sight of her body that close to his, her lips touching any part of him . . .
She pulls back, smugness written all over her face.
I take another drag, eyes narrowing as the smoke curls between us. When I breathe it out, her gaze drops to my mouth, and her lips part slightly.
“Do you two know each other?” the guy asks, looking between us, his preppy voice polite.
Poor fucker doesn’t realize he’s touching something he shouldn’t.
Violet turns to him, her smile never faltering. “We used to. A long time ago. Actually, we grew up together.”
“No shit,” he says, way too cheerful about it.
“What did you say your name was?” I ask him.
“It’s Ben. Ben Shaw.”
Like I give a fuck what his last name is.
“Ben, be a sport and grab us a couple beers?”
Ben practically jumps, eyes lighting up.
“Yeah, of course!” he blurts, wiping his palms on his jeans.
“What are you drinking? Lite beer?” He winces the second it’s out of his mouth, shaking his head, a nervous laugh catching in his throat.
“Nah, of course, someone like you wouldn’t drink lite beer. ”
Fuck off, Ben. I don’t give a shit which beer.
“Lite is great,” Violet says smoothly.
My eyes return to hers. She flicks that glossy curtain of hair over her shoulder and lifts her chin, bracing for a showdown.
I bite down on a smile. She’s ready to take a hit and dish it back. Good.
“I’ll be back in a jiffy!”
I snort, unable to hold it back. Jiffy.
The second he’s out of earshot, I take another drag and mutter, “What are you doing with him, little Vi?”
“Don’t call me that,” she snaps, eyes narrowing into dangerous slits.
That old urge to step in on her behalf slams into me, only now it’s tangled up with a dark hunger that catches me off guard.
Because she’s not little anymore. Far from it.
She’s all woman now, with an ass begging for attention and curves that weren’t there before.
Her full, natural tits are more than a handful.
I can tell they’re natural by the way they sit under her top without a bra.
I would know, I’ve seen every pair of tits possible.
I don’t have a preference between fake or natural; it’s all good in my book.
I lift my hands in mock surrender, palms out. Truth is, I called her little Vi to see how she would react. Time for another hit.
“So, you fuck men for money now? Interesting career choice.”
Her chin tips up. “Ben and I are on a date. We’re seeing each other,” she seethes.
I snort. “Please. You can drop the act, kiddo. I saw you at Eden.”