The Destiny of Violet & Luke (The Coincidence, #3)(61)

I thrum my fingers on top of my leg, thinking how far I want to delve into his head and my own. “Why don’t you just rent a place here?”

It wasn’t the question he was expecting and he’s startled by the easiness of it. “Because I have about two hundred bucks to my name.”

“Me, too.” I lean back against the headboard and kick my feet up on the bed. “How coincidental is that?”

“Not very coincidental,” he replies. “Considering we’re both two college kids who just had to fork out a shitload of money to pay for fall tuition.” He reorganizes the deck, moving top cards to the bottom. “You know, together we have about four hundred bucks. That’s enough to get an apartment in one of the Oak Section Apartments.” He winces as he says it and I’m not sure if it’s because he just offered to live with me or because the Oak Section Apartments are in the ghetto area of the city, where crackheads and prostitutes live. But they’re easy to get into and cheap because no one but crack heads and prostitutes want to live there.

I’m not sure what to make of his offer. My initial reaction is to reject him before he ends up rejecting me. “Nah, I don’t think that’d work.”

He crosses his legs, still turned sideways. “Why not?”

“Well, for starters, it’d get us a month, but then we’d be broke without food or money to pay the other bills. I still have my waitressing job at Moonlight Dining and Drinks, but I make shit and it won’t cover nearly all the expenses… and I don’t even know if you have a job,” I say. He looks hesitant and I have my answer. “So you don’t have a job?”

He frowns. “Try to look past that fact for a minute… pretend I have a way to get some extra cash. Then what do you think?”

“I think I barely know you,” I reply. “And you barely know me. And it’s really hard living with people you barely know. Trust me. I’ve done it a lot.”


“It’s hard living with people you do know, too.” He pushes up on his elbows and turns over to puts the cards on the desk near the foot of the bed. The towel opens up and I catch a glimpse of his dick.

I bite my lip, thousands of thoughts flooding my head as my heart thuds in my chest and my skin covers in tingles. When he turns around all the way back, I pretend to be examining my fingernails while shivers continue to nip at my skin.

“Yeah, I wouldn’t know, but we could make it work. And it’s better than living on the streets or in my truck… I think.” He fidgets uncomfortably, readjusting the towel back over himself. He examines the backs of his hands like they’re the most fascinating thing and for a moment he looks very vulnerable, but when he glances up there’s only this rough, raw, animalistic look in his eye. “We can make it work.”

“How would you get extra cash flow?” I say, nerves bubbling in my chest from the rough edge of his voice. “I told you earlier I won’t be dealing anymore.”

“And I’m glad,” he says. “And let me worry about the extra cash flow on my part.”

I shake my head. “I need to know—I need to know what I’m walking into.”

“Fine, I’m going to gamble.”

“There’s nowhere to gamble around here. There won’t be any campus parties.”

“Not at the kind of the parties you’ve been to, but there are others.”

“Dangerous parties.” The words roll off my tongue like sweet-tasting honey and my nerves calm down.

“Why do you sound so exited when you say that?” he wonders curiously.

“I don’t,” I lie, sitting up on the bed. Can I do it? Live with him? Am I seriously considering this? My heart beats quicker, harder. Jesus. “So if we do this, then you’ll actually make money, right? Not lose it.”

He glances down at the cards. “I just showed you how easy I can win.”

I frown, unconvinced. “Yeah, but I also caught on to your little trick.”

“Yeah, but you’re more observant than others.”

“True.”

“So what do you say?” he asks with a crook of his brow, laid-back and casual, but there’s a darkness haunting his eyes. “Roomie?”

My hands are shaking, but in a good, holy-hell sort of way. “All right, it’s a deal.” I stick out my hand and we shake on it. His touch sends tingles up my arm and my pulse accelerates, throbbing in my wrists, fingertips, neck, and even between my legs. I wonder if he can feel it.

He frees my hand and rises to his feet, turning his back to me. He opens the towel up and I wonder what he’s doing. Then he ties the towel back up and disappears for the closet. “All right, Violet, who still hasn’t told me her last name. We have a deal,” he calls out.

A slow breath eases out of my mouth, freeing my restless energy. Before I even know what I’m doing I open my mouth and say, “It’s Hayes. My last name is Hayes.”

I want to slap myself in the head for giving him my real last name. Normally I tell people I’m Violet Smith, a simple name that I used to go by when I was younger because it was better than telling people my real last name. Sometimes I’d make up extravagant names for the hell of it when Smith got too dull. Yet, I just handed over the one real thing about me to Luke. I vow that for the rest of the night I’ll be as quiet as possible to avoid letting anything else stupid slip out of my mouth.