17. Violet

17

Violet

T he next few weeks fly by with a sense of normalcy. Mondays roll around quicker than I’d like, but I’m in the minority of people who actually enjoy attending class in person on a Monday morning. Class is consistent, and I like that. The routine of class eases my mind. What I don’t expect is Ryan calling an audible, or quick play change in football terms, to sit next to me.

“Good Morning, babe. I brought you something.”

Babe? I selfishly chose not to correct him because I like it.

“A present?” I love presents. I’m too happy about this. He probably thinks I’m desperate. Chill, Violet. This is just the guy who happened to spend the weekend at my apartment, make out with me a few dozen times, and disclose our deepest secrets to each other. No biggie.

“This is the most Violet Evans present I could come up with.” He whips out a pack of tropical-colored flair pens from behind his back. I gasp and fight a smile. Colored pens are heavenly.

“How did you know these are my favorites?” I grab the pack and immediately pop them open to organize them in front of me before class starts.

“Because I watch you, Vi, and these fancy pens make you smile.”

I stare into his dark brown eyes and process what he just said.

Make me happy? He watches me? Smiling?

“Why would you care if I smiled?” I ask genuinely. No one besides my grandpa and Hartley has ever really cared if I smiled or not, much less noticed what makes me smile.

“Vi, if I haven’t made it crystal clear yet, I would do just about anything to see you smile. If I needed to buy out every pack of these things at Target, I would.”

I giggle in the quiet classroom. That draws attention to us from the other students.

“You deserve to be happy,” he says with that million-dollar smile.

Before I can think about all the reasons why we couldn’t work, class starts, and I can’t remember a single word the professor says that day. Ryan pinches my upper thigh under my desk, and it takes everything inside not to giggle. He can’t possibly be paying attention to the professor, either. I mouth the word “stop” with a small smile, and he winks. Scooting a few inches away from his reach doesn’t help much. My mind continues to drift to different scenarios. All of them involve the tattooed football player sitting next to me.

_______________________________________

Class ends, and I’ve retained about as much information as a goldfish. Ryan and I are making the trek back to the parking lot when he abruptly asks, “Do you have any plans tonight?” He slings his backpack over one shoulder.

“Nope. Just getting ahead with studying, but I don’t have any tests this week. Why?”

“I’m taking you out,” he says with confidence.

I tilt my chin down, trying to hide my excitement. It’s just one date. Is it even a date? Or is this an outing between friends? It doesn’t mean we’re getting married. He picks ups on the worry painted all over my face.

Grabbing my hand, he stops me to face him. “Calm down. It’s nothing serious. Let’s just get out and have fun.”

“Okay. Sounds good. Where to?” Knowing where we’re going is half the battle. The other half takes place in my closet, picking out the right outfit and makeup combo.

“How do you feel about bowling?” he says with the cutest smirk.

“I love bowling. I haven’t been in years, though. Most people hate the bowling alley shoes, but I live for nostalgia.” I giggle thinking about the times I’ve gone bowling in the past.

“A girl after my own heart. I’ve never minded the shoes, either. Brings back memories of when I was little. We used to go every Friday night. There was some sort of pizza and bowling coupon that my mom swears we couldn’t miss out on.”

“No way. My grandpa used to take Hartley and me, too. He would never take it easy on me, so I had to fight for my wins against those two.”

“Sweetheart, you’re going down. I don’t do well with losing.”

Did he just shamelessly flirt with me?

“We’ll see about that, Mr. Football.”

We part ways in the parking lot. Ryan says he’ll pick me up from the apartment at seven. I hop into my old car and mentally debate what I should wear. I want to look good and impress him, but bowling alleys are also more relaxed. I know I need backup, so I text Liza when I get back home.

Violet: SOS

Liza: What?!

Violet: Ryan is taking me bowling tonight.

Liza: Ahhhhhhhhhhhh. Can’t say I didn’t see this coming

Violet: It’s not a “date” really. Just friends hanging out. Who’ve kissed.

Liza: Sure. We’ll go with that. So delulu.

Violet: Can you help me throw an outfit together? I don’t know which vibe I should go for.

Liza: OMW

Liza shows up to the apartment minutes later. She definitely broke multiple traffic laws to get here so fast, and I appreciate her dedication to the cause. She flies to the closet and lays out a few outfit choices.

“What vibe are you going for? Do we want the sexy too good for the bowling alley outfit? Or playful, I’m here to win , outfit?” she asks as she continues to hunt through my closet.

“I don’t want to look too over the top, but I also want him to see me in something he hasn’t seen me in before,” I surprise myself with my own words. Impressing men isn’t usually on my radar, but here we are.

“ This.” She holds up a pink crop top. It has cap sleeves with ruffled material over the chest. “This top is perfect. It’s not too fancy, but it also shows a little skin, and I love that for you. Pair it with these tight-fit jeans. He hasn’t seen you in anything like this before. Right?”

“No. Are you sure it’s not too showy?”

“Nope,” she says, popping the ‘p’. “You want to give him a sneak peek of what he’s missing out on. Show a little skin so he can imagine what’s underneath. It works every time.” She purses her lips with sass.

My cheeks flame red at the thought of Ryan undressing me with his eyes. The part that scares me even more? I want him to.

I slip into the outfit Liza picked out, and she begins curling my hair when I hear the apartment door fly open.

“I’m home,” Hartley yells from the living room. He saunters into my room without an invitation. “Playing dress up, Vi?” He laughs as he takes in my room.

“Our girl has a date,” Liza answers before I get the chance to deflect the question.

“A date?” Hartley questions with a scowl painted on his face.

“Chill, Hart. I told you Ryan, and I have been hanging out. It’s nothing, really. Just going to the bowling alley.” I try to brush it off as nothing more than a casual night.

“Let me break this down for you. Nothing is casual for guys. If he asked you out, it means he wants something, and I’m sure this isn’t an innocent bowling match,” he says with trepidation in his tone.

“Oh lay off it, Hartley. She’s always studying by herself in this room. She needs to live a little,” Liza retorts.

“As a matter of fact, girls, I’m in the mood for some lighthearted bowling, too. Think I’ll swing by the alley for a few rounds.” Swinging around to look, I roll my eyes. I can’t believe what I’m hearing.

“Oh no, no, no you don’t. You are not chaperoning Violet’s date.” Liza places the curling wand on the bathroom counter to continue her argument.

“I’m simply going bowling at a public place. No chaperoning involved,” he answers with a cocky grin.

“Don’t bother, Liza. I’m used to it. When his mind is made up, there’s no changing it.” I can’t wait to break this stellar news to Ryan.

“You’re so annoying. Well, if you’re going, I’m coming too,” Liza says. “Look at us. You’re going to chaperone Violet, and I’m going to chaperone you.” Liza gives Hartley a run for his money.

I belly laugh at the predicament I’ve fallen into. This should be an interesting night, for sure. Liza finishes curling my hair and throws on an outfit from my closet. She said she’s going for the same vibe as me so that I won’t feel out of place. Part of me wonders if she’s hoping to get Hartley’s attention. She hasn’t said anything yet, but I get the feeling she might have a crush on him. If there’s any chance he feels the same, maybe her outfit will be enough to distract him so I can enjoy this date.

We sit on my bed and scroll our phones until there’s a light knocking on the door. Hartley beats me to the door.

“What’s up, bro? Ready to head out to the alley?” Hartley can be such a tool. I push him aside and welcome Ryan in.

“Uhhhh, what’s going on?” he asks.

“Liza came over to help me get ready, and Hartley invited himself to tag along. He was being so smug about it that Liza joined in, too,” I say with my hands cupping my face. Heat creeps up my neck at how embarrassing this is.

“It’s okay, Vi. It’ll be fun. You look…” Before he finishes, Liza cuts in, “Incredible, beautiful, drop-dead gorgeous?” She hooks her arms through Hartley’s, and he shoots her an annoyed look.

“I was going to say perfect,” Ryan answers.

I’m officially a puddle.

“Let’s get this perfect show on the road,” Hartley says, grabbing our shared key ring off the side table. Before Hartley can protest, I hop in Ryan’s car, and Liza takes the shotgun seat in Hartley’s. She winks at me before they pull off.

Ryan and I are finally alone, and I shoot him a sympathetic glance. “I’m so sorry about this.”

“It’s fine. I know Hartley can get a little crazy. I’ll settle him down.” I can feel my hand drifting closer to his. He looks down from the road and laces his fingers with mine. I don’t question it because it feels too nice having my hand in his.

Ryan

Someone take me to the hospital. My heart jumps straight through my chest when I see Violet’s outfit. I’m so distracted by her that I don’t mind Hartley’s passive-aggressive attitude. Her crop top shows a sliver of skin just above her painted-on jeans. That one piece of exposed skin is going to haunt me all night. Her body is perfect, her curves in all the right places.

I can’t think too much about what this is, or I’ll get in my own head. I don’t want to think about why I don’t want to drop her hand or why I’m so nervous about making this a good night. We pull up to the old bowling alley in town, Hartley and Liza not far behind. I don’t make a big deal out of Hartley inviting himself. Violet wears it all over her face that she takes the blame for it, and I want her to feel as comfortable as possible. The four of us stop at the shoe counter.

“Yeah, that’s gonna be a no for me. Meet you at the lane, Vi.” Liza tosses the words over her shoulder.

“See ya in a few,” Hartley says, trailing shortly behind Liza.

Violet’s beautiful eyes meet mine as she tries her best to hold in a giggle. “I guess we’re the only weirdos who actually like the shoes.”

“They wouldn’t know a good thing if it hit them in the face.” I wipe my sweaty palm on my jeans before taking the opportunity to grab Violet’s hand again. Every move I make seems monumental, and I can’t shake the nerves. She accepts and gives my hand a small squeeze. I give the employee our shoe sizes and ask for four players on alley eight.

“I’ve got mine,” Violet says, reaching in her purse for her wallet.

“No. I’m paying.”

“But, you don’t have to. Friends pay for themselves.” She tilts her head with pursed lips and a questioning look. Her arms fold over her chest.

“Friends or not. I’m not taking you out and letting you pay for yourself. That’s not how I was raised.” This is a battle she won’t win.

“Fine, but I’m paying next time. Umm. If there’s a next time. I didn’t mean to assume...”

“There will be a next time.” I place my hand on the small of her back and rub up and down to relax her. She isn’t the only one whose nerves are through the roof. She gives me a soft smile.

We head to alley eight with our shoes on, ready to play. We walk up on Hartley and Liza, arguing about who should go first. Violet and I ignore them and begin our game. She’s a better bowler than I thought, and I’m not taking it easy on her. God, just watching her on the lane distracts me from the deafening music and kids screaming to their parents in the lanes beside us. She bites her lip before grabbing the bowling ball and shoots me the prettiest smile before she pivots to face the pins. Each time she bends over to throw the ball down the lane, I get the perfect view of her bottom, and I’m gone. I don’t even let Hartley’s death glares and comments intimidate me.

Violet returns to the holder to wait for her pink bowling ball to shoot out. I jump out of my seat, wipe my palms against my pants, and meet her on the slick floor of the alley. Our hands graze as I reach around her body to guide her. Her cheeks light on fire. My mouth grazes her ear before she tosses it down the lane, eliciting goosebumps over her arms.

“Don’t miss,” I whisper seconds before she knocks down every single pin.

When the pins clamber down, she turns around, pumps her arms in the air, and does a little happy dance. Lucky for me, her little show rides her crop top up a few inches, giving me even more of a view. God. I’m sitting here hoping for a crop top to ride up a few inches.

I’m down bad.

After two games, I ask everyone if they want drinks at the concession stand. Liza and Violet start a two-player game giving me the perfect opportunity to get Hartley alone.

“Could you come help me with the drinks?” I ask Hartley. He quickly looks at Liza and Violet, clearly distracted by the game, and agrees.

Hartley has this aura about him. He screams, “I could care less”, but there’s lots of hurt under that funny exterior. I would know better than anyone. I’m the same way.

“Considering you took a sudden liking to bowling, I think we’re due for a conversation.” I start off light. I definitely don’t need Hartley swinging on me in the middle of the bowling alley.

“Bowling is for everyone, Ryan,” he says in a passive-aggressive tone.

“I like her,” I confess for the first time.

“It’s pretty obvious how out of your depth you are.”

“I’m trying to do this right. You know I don’t date, but Violet makes me want to commit. I can’t stand the thought of her with someone else,” I explain.

“Is this a jealousy thing? You want to mark your territory so other guys stay away?”

“No. Not even a little bit. Well, I guess it started that way, but I’m trying to figure it out. I want you to know that I’m serious about her.”

“I promised her grandpa I’d take care of her,” he unexpectedly admits. “She doesn’t have much experience with relationships.”

“That doesn’t matter to me,” I answer honestly. I don’t care about Violet’s past relationships or lack thereof. “This isn’t just a hookup to me. I don’t know what it is about her, man, but I can’t stay away. I meant what I said in the locker room that day.”

“Just don’t hurt her, or I’ll have no other choice but to avenge her dead grandpa and beat you to the ground,” he says jokingly, but I know he would kill me if I ever hurt her.

“She means something to me. Just trying to figure out what to do about it.”

“Ryan Shane has a heart. Who would have known?” He punches my shoulder with a laugh. We grab four slushies from the counter and head back to the girls. They’re sitting at an open table smiling and talking. Liza throws her head back and stops her feet, but my girl has her hand under her chin smirking at her friend.

“Alright, my fellow chaperone. Let’s head out and give these two some time to themselves,” Hartley announces.

“I thought you’d never ask.” Liza leaves the table and gives us a farewell. “You kids have fun. The kind of fun I would have!”

It’s just Violet and I with our slushies left to talk.

“I hope Hartley didn’t give you too much grief.” She bites her pinky nail.

“Nah. I calmed him down.” Standing up to sit next to her, I wrap my arm around her waist.

She turns her head to lock eyes. Her cheeks are a permanent rose color when we’re together. “Good. Now we can get back to our original date without the party crashers. What’s your major? Just realized I’ve never asked.”

“Sports medicine, but I don’t plan to use it.”

“Why?”“I need to make it to the pros. There isn’t another option,” I answer curtly.

“Okay, but what if it doesn’t work out? Shouldn’t you have a backup plan just in case?” She’s nosey and can elicit more out of me than anyone other than my mom has.

“I don’t have one. Anything other than the pros is considered a failure.”

“When did you start playing, then? You must have played for a while, considering your talent.” She places her hand on my leg.

Now, this is a question I don’t want to answer. I shift uncomfortably in my seat/ I’m careful not to move Violet’s hand from my leg. The decisions I made in high school leading up to my possible expulsion and the reason I started playing football still stay locked away in a vault. I don’t want Violet to see me as the person that I was back then. I hated that version of myself.

“I didn’t think anything was meant for me after high school, but football fell into my lap. The only reason I play is to make it to the pros and pay off my mom’s medical bills.”

“How bad are they?” She looks at me with genuine concern across her face.

“Could be worse, but her PT time has decreased because she’s made so much progress. I know her health will deteriorate, and she’ll need assistive technology to talk and do other things. I want to give her the option to have those things and live a normal life.”

She takes a sip of her Coke slush and leaves a small drip on the side of her mouth. Before I can think, I wipe my thumb across her lips, catching her off guard—and myself off guard. Her breath hitches, and her eyes follow my thumb.

“I really want to kiss you,” I blurt out. I need to feel her.

“I think I want you to kiss me.”

“Don’t think, Vi.” Before she can answer, I lean across the table and give her a gentle kiss. We’re in public, so I can’t kiss her the way I really want to. I want to grab her hips where that little top exposes her soft skin, throw her down into my bed, and make her mine, but I can’t do that in the middle of a bowling alley. I break the kiss sooner than I would have liked and lock eyes with the beauty in front of me.

“You’re different than I imagined,” she confesses.

“Good way or bad way?”

“Good way,” she says. I don’t know what this is, but I know one thing for sure. Violet makes me want to be different, and there’s not much I can do about it.

I drive Violet back home and walk her to the door. The possessive part of me needs to know she made it inside safe.

“I had a lot of fun tonight. Thank you for everything,” She inches closer and closer to my chest.

“You don’t have to thank me for anything.” I can’t help myself. I place my hand on the back of her head and run my fingers through her smooth hair. I bring her mouth to mine. She gasps at the unexpected move, but her body quickly melts into mine, giving me full access to her sweet mouth. The little moans coming out of her during this kiss are absolute torture. I keep reminding myself that I need to be a gentleman and take this slow, but it’s very hard to do that with her.

She breaks the kiss and lets out a breathy moan. “You can come in.” She gives me the invitation of a lifetime. I hope to God I’m not about to blow this, but I need to force myself to take this slow. For her.

“Vi. I want to– more than you know. I’m dying here, but I want to do right by you.” I whisper and nip her ear.

“I love that about you.”

Before Violet can second guess her word choice, I grab her face and kiss her harder this time. Kisses never meant anything to me before her.

I don’t want to push her too far tonight, but I really want to stay.

“I’ll stay, but I’m stopping myself from losing control. You don’t understand how difficult that is when it comes to you,” I say, rubbing her chin with my calloused thumb. Her shoulders loosen. I need more of her, but before I lift her into my arms and carry her through the door, I whisper quietly into her ear, “I love everything about you.”

***

The next morning, I woke up before Violet. Placing my hand on her flushed cheek causes her eyes to flutter open. I wish I could take a picture of this moment and frame it.

I whisper hoarsely into her ear, “Will you please put me out of my misery and be my girlfriend?”

“Maybe,” she giggles into my chest. Jesus, morning Violet might be hotter than any other version of her. She doesn’t have time to have self doubt or overthink her decisions. She’s just, her . Why is it that everything she does becomes my favorite thing in the world? I’m so beyond gone for this girl.

“I can’t promise I won’t royally screw this up,” I say, grabbing her waist and tossing her on top of me. She straddles my hips, distracting me in the best way. “But I promise to give it everything I have.” She leans down, our faces inches apart, but she doesn’t kiss me.

“Yes, Ryan Shane, I’ll be your girlfriend,” she whispers, gives me a gentle kiss, and rolls back to my side–nuzzling her head into the crook of my arm. My arm goes numb shortly after, but I could care less. I can’t think of a happier moment. After a few moments, we drift into sleep.