My shoulders lift and fall as I shrug. “Maybe.” I set the coffee cup down.
He shakes his head, a small smile touching his lips. “You always find a way to get out of answering questions. It’s like you have a gift.”
“A gift for avoiding things I don’t want to deal with,” I say, combing my fingers through my tangled hair, which stinks of booze and pot.
His hand drops to his lap. “What don’t you want to deal with?”
“Everything… sometimes life is just too hard and seems pointless to deal with.”
Alarm fills his eyes as he misunderstands me. “Violet, I—”
I quickly lean over and cover his mouth with my hand. “Don’t think I’m suicidal. I already told you I didn’t jump out the window because of that… I’m just trying to tell you what’s bothering me in the only way I’m comfortable with. I’m not a fan of getting to know people or letting them into my life. Besides Luke, you’re pretty much the only person who I…” I have no idea how to finish that sentence because I’m still trying to figure out what Luke is to me. “You saw on the news… the thing about my parents. Well, after that… after they died, I pretty much didn’t have anyone. It was just me and an endless amount of foster families who were pretty much giving me a roof over my head but not much more than that. So I learned to take care of myself and it’s been that way for a long time. Just me and my life.”
“So you only take care of yourself,” he mumbles against my mouth, sounding surprisingly understanding.
I move my hand away from his mouth and slump back. “I had to. It gets hard to deal with, you know, especially when no one sticks around.” I’m not sure if I’m making any sense or what point I’m trying to get across. Maybe I’m trying to scare him away or just explain why I can’t keep getting involved with him.
“I actually get that,” he tells me. “My father bailed out on our family when I was young and now he wants to come back into my life and it’s hard.”
“I’ve had a lot of fathers,” I say, making air quotes. “And none of them wanted to come back into my life. You’re lucky yours does.”
“Yeah, maybe.” He stares at the parking lot out in front of us. “Violet, if you ever need to talk about stuff… I’m here.” I can tell it takes him a lot to say it, which makes it more meaningful.
“I’m not much for talking,” I say. “But thanks.”
“Still,” he turns his head toward me, “know the offer’s there.”
I nod, unsure how to react to what he’s saying—that I have someone. He wants to be my someone.“Okay.”
He extends his hand toward me and tucks a strand of my hair behind my ear. “We kind of got off the subject of you and I, though, and I’d really like some answers about us, before I lose it… I came very close to losing it last night.”
“I know,” I say, curious what Luke looks like when he completely loses it. “I have issues with staying focused on tough subjects, though, and it seems you and I are a tough subject.”
He starts to smile but then frowns, looking flustered. “Violet, I don’t know what to do with us… with any of what happened… what’s happening.”
I frown in puzzlement. “Why do you have to do something with us at all? Why not just let things be?”
He blinks away from the parking lot and looks at me, eyes intense even for him. “Because of last night. I don’t just do that. Mess around and then cuddle for the whole damn night.”
“Yeah right,” I attempt to make a joke to avoid the heaviness between us. “I think we already established that you were a cuddler.”
He rolls his eyes, but grins. “Only you.”
I shield my eyes from the sun with my hand. “What does that mean?”
“It means only you have ever been able to get to me like this. Frustrate me and yet still make me want to be around you at the same time.” He scoots off the railing and stretches his arms above his head, his shirt riding up and giving me another glimpse of his abs. Then he lowers his arms and reaches his hand out toward me. “I think it’s time we did something that we’ve been needing to do since the first day we met.”
“You mean when I kicked you in the face?” I feel my stomach spin as I remember the first night I officially met him and how much things have changed since then, in both good and bad ways. “What did you have in mind?”
He restrains a laugh as I thread my fingers through his and he pulls me to his feet. “I’m going to take you out on a date.”
I choke on a laugh, but realize he’s being serious. “Oh my God, you’re not joking.”
“Of course I’m not joking.” He slides the glass door open. “I don’t joke.”
We enter the living, which has a pungent smell to it due to the garbage all over the place, and then he shuts the door. The air is musty, probably from everyone smoking, and there’s something that looks like wine spilled on the carpet.
“A date?” I ask as he steers me across the living room, kicking some cards and bottles out of the way. “Really? It seems a little formal don’t you think? Considering we’ve kissed, slept together, moved in together, and then all that other stuff you did to me last night.”
He presses his hand to his heart, still holding my hand so I touch his chest, too. He keeps it there as he opens the door to our bedroom. “Hey, don’t pretend you didn’t like it. In fact, I’m pretty sure you were the one who suggested it.”
“I did not,” I tell him. “But I did like it, which makes dating seem even harder. I mean, what are we supposed to do? Sit and eat dinner while we chat about our lives when everything between us is so intense?”
He wavers with uncertainty as he shuts the bedroom door behind us. “Well, we don’t know that much about each other.”
“Yeah, we don’t,” I agree. “But I generally like to keep things that way with people.”
He nods in agreement. “I know, so we can either keep going down the road we’re on and argue until we both lose it again, get drunk, and fool around. Or we can get to know each other and see where things go. It depends on what you want.”
“You’re letting me decide?” I ask, shocked.
He catches his breath for a split second. “Yeah… I think am…”