The Destiny of Violet and Luke(84)

I run up the stairs to the third floor where the door to my apartment is. It’s strange, knowing this is where I’m going to be living for the summer with three guys, one whom doesn’t like me, one that seems afraid of me, and one that seems conflicted on whether or not he wants to screw me. If he showed up right now, I’d probably let him, since his needy, hot touch seems to have the power to smother my emotions almost as good as standing on the balcony does. But he’s not here and right now I’m going to have to settle for the balcony.

I open the door, ready to dash across the living room to the sliding glass door, but slam to a halt when I spot Greyson in the kitchen with an array of baking ingredients on the counter and a red mixing bowl. He’s preparing to bake cookies or something, and “Demons” by Imagine Dragons is playing from an iPod. He’s fairly tall with blond hair and light blue eyes. He’s wearing a gray fitted shirt and with a black shirt over it, the buttons undone.

His head is tipped down as he studies an open recipe book, but he smiles up at me when I shut the front door. “Hey.”

I’ve only crossed paths with him at the university and a few times in my dorm room. We’ve never spoken and he’s always seemed content with that.

I force a stiff smile and whisk by the coffee table and the boxes in the middle of the floor and head toward my room, figuring out an alternative way to regain control over my thoughts and heart. As I pass by the kitchen island, his eyes land on my arms, at the scratches, which are swollen and raw.

“Jesus.” He rounds the counter and strides over to me. “What happened to your arms?”

“I got attacked by a cat,” I say, still moving for my bedroom, needing to be alone and escape the only way I know how.

He lightly grabs my arm, forcing me to stop right before I reach the hallway that has a bedroom and a bath to the right and another bedroom to the left, my bedroom, which I need to be in, right now.

“It must have been a really big f*cking cat,” he states, examining the scratches, tracing a path up and down my arm with his fingers. “You should put some peroxide on them or you’re going to get an infection.”

“I will,” I reply, subtly wiggling my arm away from his grip and covering the scratches with my hand. “That’s actually where I was headed.”

He smiles, but looks conflicted. “Well let me know if you need anything.” He turns toward the kitchen and goes back to the stove. “Do you want to help me make brownies?”

I pause. “Seriously?”

He picks up a stick of butter and begins unwrapping it. “It’s just cooking, Violet. No need to get worked up.” The corners of his lips tug upward as I walk over to him, curious.

“Yeah, but what about Seth?” I ask, resting my elbows on the counter as he drops the stick of butter into the bowl.

“What about Seth?”

“Doesn’t it seem like he might not be a fan of you hanging out with me, since I’m a vixen and all.”

“Well, since I’m not really into vixens or women in general, I’m pretty sure he won’t mind.” He grins and it’s probably the happiest grin I’ve ever seen.

“That’s not what I mean,” I say. “I meant, because he seems to have an issue with me.”

“He just likes drama,” he explains, opening another stick of butter. “He’ll get over it once he realizes you’re not going to steal his thunder.”

“Steal his thunder?”

“Yeah, you being the very colorful person that you are.” He eyes me with a look that makes me feel light inside and I sort of want to hug him.

I slide down into the stool. “And colorful is a good thing, right?”

“Of course.” He stabs the stick of butter with the spoon. “Besides, you and I are going to be hanging out at work when I start my job at Moonlight Dining. It’s inevitable.”

“You’re going to be working at Moonlight Dining and Drinks?” I ask.

He nods. “Yeah, I start Tuesday.”

I’ve been trying not to think of the fact that I only have one job now and a lot more bills. Plus, the rush I get from dealing is no longer an option. My life is changing and I’m not sure if that’s a good or a bad thing. “Well, here’s a little tip: It gets really slow most nights and the tips suck.”

“That’s good to know. I’ll make sure to dazzle as many costumers as I can then. That way the tips that I get will make up for it. ” He grins at me. “I’m good at dazzling.”