The Failing Hours (How to Date a Douchebag #2)(67)

“He needed new shoes.”

“The big deal, Zeke, is those shoes are expensive. What if he had lost the bet?”

“You’re so fucking cute.” Zeke laughs, snorting through his nose. He grabs my hand and pulls me along. “He wasn’t going to lose.”

My brow furrows. “What do you mean, he wasn’t going to lose?”

“Exactly what I’m saying. He wasn’t going to lose the bet. The kid needed new shoes, his mom can’t afford, he won the bet, end of story.”

When he gives my hands a little squeeze, I yank his hand back, stopping us both in our tracks.

“Zeke Daniels. You big softie.”

He laughs, beautiful mouth smiling, gently tugging me along. “Whatever, Pixie Dust, keep walking.”

But I’m not giving up so easily. “Don’t try to change the subject. I want you to admit you’re not such a hard ass.”

“Hard ass? You cursing today, Vi?”

“Knock it off! Don’t change the subject!”

He heaves a hefty sigh, sounding put out. “All right. Maybe on occasion, I help people out.”

“Why?”

“What do you mean, why? You just asked and I told you.”

“I heard you, but if you like helping people, why do you always seem so, I don’t know…pissed?”

“Long, drawn-out story you don’t want to know.”

“Of course I want to know—I want to get to know you, Zeke, especially if we’re going to, you know…”

“Have fuck fest sex?”

I feel my cheeks burning. “Yes.”

“There are a lot of things I want, too, Violet, but I don’t bring them up just to make conversation.” He looks off into the distance, at Kyle and Summer, squinting.

“Well I want a relationship,” I announce loudly. “But I wouldn’t want things to be awkward between us if you don’t.”

He stops in his tracks, my whole body lurching with the sudden inertia, regarding me warily.

“Violet…”

“No. I want to talk about this.” I refuse to let him sidestep the conversation and tug his hand. “What are you like when you’re in a relationship?”

His nose scrunches up and glances down like I’ve lost my mind, steely eyes skeptical. “I’ve never been in one. What about you?”

My chest swells, excited that he’s cooperating and that we’re talking.

“One or two. Nothing serious, obviously. Zeke, I…I-I can’t sleep with you and spend time with you and not catch feelings.”

“What do you mean, catch feelings?”

“The more we’re together, the more I like you. Have you heard the phrase ‘peeling back the layers’? You know, like an onion. I feel like I’m finally starting to see what’s under that cool demeanor of yours, one layer at a time—and I’m starting to like the layers.”

He grunts, still holding my hand. “Are you making it sound like a bad thing?”

“Do I have to spell it out for you?”

“Please.” Zeke’s nostrils flare.

“I’m just worried about myself. I’ve…been alone a long time if you don’t count Mel and Winnie, and I’ve never depended on anyone to…gosh, th-this is going to sound really stupid.”

“Violet, spit it out.”

I take a deep breath and continue, releasing his hand to splay mine wide in front of me. “I-I basically raised myself. It’s true that I lived in some really nice places—and some bad ones—but that’s not the same as having security, or having my parents back.”

I glance up, Summer and Kyle busy conducting electricity from a large round orb to their hair, which is now standing on end.

Cuties.

“Zeke, when we met, I didn’t think you and I were going to get along. I was afraid of you—that’s why I ditched our first appointment—but now I’m just afraid to like you. You’re not the worst.”

His large hand grapples for mine. Squeezes. “You’re not the worst, either, Pix.”

I give him a coy smile. “I know you like me, Zeke.”

He rolls his eyes. “Obviously.”

I yank his hand again so he looks as me. “No. I know you like me.”

We regard one another in the dim lights of the museum, wordlessly sizing each other up. His cool gaze rakes me up and down, still holding my hand, a sliver of white from his perfectly straight teeth peeking through his lips.

He’s smiling. “Prove it.”

I narrow my eyes, biting back my silly grin. “You prove it.”

“I thought I already did. I’m here, aren’t I? Do you think I’d be caught dead in a fucking kid’s museum if I didn’t like you?” He says it low, dragging me against his body, angling my chin up with the tips of his fingers. Brushing his mouth against my lips.

Kisses me once before releasing me.

It’s not exactly a declaration of love, not by a long shot.

But right now?

It’s enough.





Zeke: When you’re done dropping Summer off at her mom’s, you wanna study tonight at my place?

Violet: Will you be feeding me? I’m starving.