Getting Real (Getting Some #3)(18)

He cups his hands around his mouth and calls across the room. “Hey, Vi!”

When she doesn’t hear him over the thunderous chatter of the cafeteria, he presses two fingers to his lips and whistles—making Violet jump before her attention shifts our way.

Dean waves her in. “We have an open seat here—come sit with us.”

For a quick second, Violet’s gaze vacillates warily from me to Garrett, but she quickly flashes a bright smile and takes a step toward us.

And then she trips.

Over nothing but air.

Momentary panic stabs me in the chest, but she recovers! Catching herself in a half turn around an occupied chair, lifting her tray over the head of the person sitting in it, while still managing to keep a single thing from spilling, with an agility that’s goddamn impressive. Especially for her.

“Hey, guys,” she says when she reaches us unscathed, sliding into the open chair beside me. “Thanks—this place is a madhouse today.”

Vi takes a drink of her iced tea and makes small talk with Dean about the upcoming wedding.

“I can’t wait to see how the table linens look,” Violet says.

“You’re going to Dean and Lainey’s wedding?” I ask.

“Yeah.”

“Hey,” Dean says, leaning forward. “I just got an idea, just this second sitting here. The seating arrangements have been driving Lainey a little cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs. Some of the tables have an odd number of chairs and she likes even numbers, you know?”

I’ve met Lainey Burrows . . . she’s almost as laid-back as Brayden. There’s no way she suddenly has a rabid obsession with symmetry.

But Violet nods, like that’s a totally normal thing to say.

“Right. I mean, who doesn’t?”

“Exactly,” Dean continues. “So, since you’re coming solo to the wedding, Vi, and Connor here isn’t bringing a date either—would it be okay if we sat you two together?”

And my brother and Dean’s need to visit me here at the hospital suddenly becomes so clear.

For a few seconds, Violet says nothing.

And I don’t say anything because I’m too busy waiting to see what she’s going to say.

“Ah . . . yeah, sure,” she eventually stammers out, the way people do when they’re not sure. “Connor and I know each other—it’ll be fun. It’s not like I’ll knock the candle centerpieces over and set the table on fire.” She barks out a harsh laugh, then adds under her breath, “Hopefully.”

My brother’s lounging back in his chair, balancing on the two rear legs—a habit my mother tried and failed to break him of. But now he leans forward, bringing the front two legs to the floor with a decisive smack.

“I have an even better idea. Since you guys are already sitting together—why don’t you just go to the wedding together?”

“Good thinking, D,” Dean says smoothly. “That is a better idea.”

“Connor, you could pick Violet up. I mean, that’s one less car in the parking lot and it’s going to be packed, right, Dean?”

Dean nods. “And it would help reduce the carbon footprint of the wedding.”

“We all have to do our part,” Garrett tells us solemnly, like he’s been possessed by Al Gore.

Violet’s eyes dart back and forth between my brother and his best friend—like she’s the deer and they’re the headlights. Her voice is breathy and high-pitched as she tries, “I . . . uh . . . well . . . ”

In order to be good at my job—and I’m very, very good at my job—I sometimes need to assess a patient’s status based on body language alone. If they’re in pain, and if so, how much pain. They can’t always tell me, so I have to read it on their faces.

Violet is unguarded, charmingly honest. Everything she feels is always right there on the surface.

At the moment her expression is awash in hesitation—swirling with uncertainty, doubt. Not because she seems particularly opposed to Garrett’s suggestion . . . but because she doesn’t know if I am.

And not knowing if a guy is willing to take you out after it’s already been suggested in front of him comes with a hefty heaping of awkward. Ask anyone who’s ever been set up by their no-longer-gives-a-shit grandma or their meddling Aunt Jean.

Embarrassment spreads across Violet’s face like strawberry jam, painting her pretty cheeks a shameful pink.

And that really doesn’t work for me.

Because Violet is awesome and beautiful—and she doesn’t deserve to be embarrassed about anything. Ever.

So I sack up.

“I think it’s a great idea.”

She turns my way sharply, lips parted in shock and awe.

“You do?”

When my eyes meet hers, it’s like the air particles slow down around us. Insulating us from the cling and clang of the cafeteria, and it’s just us in this quiet, secluded moment together.

“Yeah, I do.”

I can sense Garrett and Dean watching us with rapt attention from across the table.

“I would love to give you a ride, Violet.”

And the moment is broken.

Dean snorts, his shoulders jerking. My brother coughs, smothering a laugh.

Because they just can’t help themselves. They’re surrounded by adolescents all day, so at least half their brains still function at a teenage boy level.