I’ve never loved anyone.
I don’t know what it feels like or if I’m feeling it right. All I know is what my father has taught me. And my mother… she tried, but she taught me that sometimes even love isn’t enough. She left us, and then she died.
It takes dedication on top of the love. It takes a willingness to fight to stay together.
And that’s exactly what I want. I want to get so close to Violet, I inhabit her skin. I want to wear her scent on my clothes. I want to lock her away so no man ever fucking looks at her again.
Vi
Want to make a bet?
You’ve got me intrigued, Reece.
You ever score a hat trick?
Look at her, learning all these fancy hockey terms. Have I personally scored a hat trick? Well, it was definitely easier when I was younger, up against less experienced teams. Nowadays, it’s few and far between. And in the tournament? Up against a well-known team?
A few times…
Do that tonight, and I’ll do whatever you want… until midnight.
My cock stirs.
Fuck.
And if I don’t?
Well, I guess we could try celibacy…
I laugh. Loudly. I’m pretty sure I’m the last one lingering in the locker room, because no one bothers me. I shake my head at my phone.
You’ll pay for that.
Will I?
Saucy thing.
Yes. When I win this bet, I’ll fuck you on the table in front of the team.
I say it because I know she likes the thrill of being watched. Well, I don’t know, but it’s a good fucking hunch. Sure enough, she types and erases twice more. Poor Violet is flustered, and now I can’t get the thought of her spread open for me out of my head.
You wouldn’t…
She’s curious, though. I don’t respond—I’d rather just prove to her what I would or wouldn’t do. After I score a hat trick—three goals—against one of the best teams in the national fucking tournament.
But for her, I’m not sure there’s anything I wouldn’t do.
44
VIOLET
The hairs on the back of my neck stand up.
This time, I don’t brush off the sensation. I stop, my shoulders inching higher. I can’t relax enough to lower them, to pretend that everything is normal. I glance down at my phone, wondering what to do. Text Greyson? Video while I rotate in a circle?
I scan the street, but I don’t see anything out of the ordinary. No one obviously watching me anyway. My gaze lifts to the windows of the shops and the apartments above them. Still nothing. It’s as quiet as can be expected on Friday, mid-afternoon.
Yes, there are people around. But no one pays me any attention.
After a moment, I continue on. My gait is a little faster, my stride stretching. I don’t want to panic. Not yet. And once I round a corner, I’m suddenly able to breathe again.
I shake it off and continue to campus. I walk into the student center and find the spot Willow has holed up in with Amanda and Jess. They’ve got their textbooks and laptops open, notebooks on their laps.
“Hey,” I say, sinking down into the empty chair.
“How was it?” Willow asks.
“How was what?” Amanda scoots toward me. “You holding out on us, Reece?”
I laugh. “Yeah, I guess I am. I have an audition with Crown Point Ballet in two weeks.”
Her eyes widen, and her mouth drops open. She chucks her notebook to the floor and bolts to her feet. “No fucking way!”
She grabs my hands and pulls me up, hopping around me. “You’re a fucking rockstar!”
“Easy, easy.” I hold on to her forearms, steadying her. “It’s just an audition.”
“Up until recently, you never thought you’d dance again.” She leans in. “It’s a big deal, okay?”
“Let us celebrate with you,” Willow adds. “It’s the least we can do.”
“We will celebrate,” I allow. “At the party.”
Jess perks up. “We’re going?”
We’ve been avoiding parties at the hockey house for the last month. I didn’t ask them to, but they did it out of solidarity. Willow and I weren’t comfortable being around Knox and Greyson. Actually, I’m not quite sure they’ve made up…
“Did you make Knox sleep on the couch?” I ask Willow.
I saw him folding sheets this morning, seeming annoyed.
She smirks. “Yep.”
“I wouldn’t have thought you could make that man do anything he didn’t want to do,” Jess says, awe in her voice.
Willow shrugs. “I told him he could risk it if he trusted me…”
I wince. I see that look in her eye. She was hurt by it, too, as much as she’s putting on a brave face now. “Well, we’ll get plastered and we’ll forget about him,” I advise.
“Perfect solution,” Amanda agrees. “We’re going to need it to drown out Paris and Madison.”
I snort. That’s the fucking truth.
“Hey, what did your mom say about the audition?” That comes from Jess, whose brows are drawing together. She has an over-the-top mother, too. The pinch of concern is warranted.
But it reminds me… “I actually need to break the news to her.” I rise. “I’m going to call her now.”
I step away from them, going to another quiet corner and taking out my phone. When I open her contact information, it shows me all the attempts to reach her that have gone unanswered. And again, I’m reminded that I’m just one of those things that has been left behind.
I dial her number, not hoping for much. I’ll leave a voicemail. One that explains everything, so she can decide. Because I can’t keep putting myself out like this, over and over, for her to ignore me.
Because it hurts. Each call that doesn’t connect with her hurts.
“You’ve reached Leigh Reece,” her recorded message says. “I’m not available at the moment. Please leave a message!”
She doesn’t promise to get back to me, I note. Whose benefit is that for? When calls go unreturned, she can say, I never said I’d call you back, Violet.
“We’re sorry. The mailbox is full. Goodbye.” There’s a beep, and the line cuts out.
I stare at my phone screen for a second in disbelief.
Really?
I try again and get the same message. Has she not been checking them? Has she not seen my voicemails building up? With no inclination to listen to them—or delete?
I call her again, the hysteria climbing my throat.
This time, it doesn’t even ring. It just goes straight to that message.
Funny. I thought… I thought I’d have her if I truly needed her. Like if I was hurt and needed help, I could ask her to come back. And I thought she would. It’s a lie, though. A fabrication I created to make myself feel better.
A noise rips out of me. It comes out in a screech, like nails on a chalkboard. The sound cuts my throat, but I can’t stop it from bursting out. I don’t know what possesses me.
“Violet,” Willow says, shaking my shoulders. “Violet, stop.”
I close my mouth.
The sound is still building behind my teeth. I press my tongue to the roof of my mouth, trying to seal it out. Agony lances through me, and if she wasn’t holding on to me, I would fall to the floor. My vision swims.