The Destiny of Violet & Luke (The Coincidence, #3)(21)

I halt at the edge of the curb and Luke taps the brakes to slow down his truck. “What do you want?” I shield my eyes from the sunlight as I look over at him.

His intense gaze relentlessly holds mine. “I want to see if you need a ride somewhere.”

I elevate my eyebrows as I lean forward and rest my arms on the edge of the open window, just inches away from his. “That’s really what you were doing? Cruising up and down the streets looking for me, hoping that you can give me a ride.”

He presses his lips together, looking entertained by something I said. “No, I was heading to the gym but then I saw you hobbling around like an old lady and thought Hey, maybe she’d like someone to help her out so that she can make it to wherever she’s going by sometime today.”

I struggle with this one. There aren’t too many people in the world who have made me smile and the majority of them are dead. Luke’s getting close and I don’t like it—don’t like how little control I have over my reaction. If he keeps it up, I’m going to have to jack his truck and drive a hundred down the highway, just to clear out all the feelings that come with that damn smile.

“Maybe I enjoy walking around like an old lady.” I slant so close to him I feel the heat of his breath and notice how long his eyelashes are. But I’m only doing it to mess with his head.

He doesn’t move away and his intensity goes up a notch, his expression flaring with something I can’t quite interpret, which is disconcerting. “Okay, I guess I’ll leave you to your hobbling.” He leans back into his truck and looks ahead, throwing me a curveball.

I’m not sure how to respond. I miss a beat, which doesn’t happen too often, and maybe that’s why I do what I do next. “Wait.” I touch his arm as the truck starts to roll forward. The touch startles both of us and I draw my hand away. “I’m going to McDonald’s. It’s like a few blocks up. If you want, you can give me a ride.”

Again he looks like he’s going to laugh. “Okay, then hop in and I’ll give you a ride.”

Wallowing in my own stupidity over the fact that I get vaguely enthused over the fact he’s helping me out again, I round the front of the truck, and hop in.

The door’s hinges squeak as I shut it and Luke shakes his head in annoyance. “Sorry, my truck’s a pile of shit.” He reaches for a pack of cigarettes on the dashboard.

“It’s not a piece of shit.” I roll down the window and let in the warm spring breeze. “It’s just rustic.”

His eyebrows furrow. “You have an interesting vocabulary.” He pops a cigarette into his mouth. “Is that a compliment?” I relax back in the seat. “Coming from Mr. Stoically Aloof.”

He cups his hand around the cigarette and then ignites it with the lighter. “Yeah, you’re going to have to explain that one to me because I don’t get it.”


At the beginning of school, during one of my English classes I had with Luke, the professor told us to describe something in the classroom that we thought would be difficult to describe. For some reason I thought of Luke, the guy who always sat in the back with his arms crossed and this I-don’t-give-a-shit look on his face. He almost seemed unapproachable or maybe just offish or perhaps it was something else. He had friends, though, so it didn’t make any sense. After a lot of analysis, I’d come up with “stoically aloof,” and although I’m not sure I nailed it correctly, every time I’ve crossed paths with him, the nickname pops up in my head. But I’m not about to tell him this.

“Not telling you is what gives it its appeal,” I tell him as he tosses the lighter onto the dash.

He takes a deep drag from his cigarette and then smoke encircles his face. “So you’re not going to tell me ever?” He holds on to the steering wheel with one hand and pulls back onto the road in the right lane and then drives down the road.

I give a one-shoulder shrug. “Maybe one day, but not right now.”

He shakes his head, but a trace of a smile touches his lips. “Fine, but I think I should be able to give you a nickname, too.”

I rotate sideways in the seat, bringing my knee up on it, curiosity sparking inside me. “Oh, I’m really interested to hear this. Let me guess. Crazy Bitch. Psycho Jumper. Old Lady.”

The corners of his lips turn up. “As much as I think all of those are great choices, I’m not going to give you one just yet. I’m going to wait until I find the perfect one to fit your… charming personality.”

I make a face as I roll my eyes. “Ha, ha, you’re hilarious.” He actually kind of is, though, and I have to work to restrain a smile.

His smile broadens, and I feel my heart spastically skip a beat. But then the happiness fades as he hurries and sticks his hand out the window to ash his cigarette. “Shit, I forgot to ask if it was okay to smoke in here.”

“It’s your truck,” I say, turning forward in the seat and putting my foot back on the floor. “You can do whatever the hell you want.”

“Anything I want, huh?” He cocks his head, studying me as he pauses at a stop sigh. We’re leaving the residential part of town and now gas stations and small stores line the street. “What if I said I wanted to drive like a hundred miles an hour in the wrong lane.”

“Then I’d say go ahead.” I kind of wish he would, that way I’d get my much needed dose of adrenaline and these unfamiliar emotions Luke’s creating inside me, ones I haven’t felt in a long time—if ever—emerging inside me would be suffocated. I’m not even sure exactly what they are; whether I find him attractive, annoying, comforting. Regardless, I don’t want to feel anything for him and I need to get rid of whatever it is that I’m feeling.