Chapter Twenty-Three

"You want popcorn?" Spencer asked.

Violet looked up from the television, shaking her head. He wasn't sure if he'd ever seen her look quite so lost before. That thousand-yard stare had been present from the moment she knocked on his door two hours ago, claiming she needed to hide out for a little while.

He flopped down on the couch beside her, stretching his legs out and propping his feet on the coffee table while his arm moved around her shoulders so he could pull her against him.

"You know you can't hide out here forever. You will have to face him sooner or later."

"No, I don't," she said petulantly.

"He's leavin' in what? A few days? You sure you wanna spend your time with me when you could be doin' nasty things with him?"

"He doesn't care," she muttered. "Paige referred to me as a that . I don't even rate a qualifier. I'm a that ."

"Maybe they weren't talkin' about you."

"Trust me," she said, blowing her hair out of her face. "They were talkin' about me. Simon said he didn't wanna deal with me. He said I knew what was comin' because we've talked about it. He's not wrong. We have. I just need to move on."

"Or you need to give him the benefit of the doubt and talk to him. Let him explain. You know what they say about assumptions."

Violet shifted, looking directly at him. "Tell me about Archer. What happened on Saturday night?"

Spencer turned his attention to the television. While he understood she didn't want to talk about Simon, he really, really, really didn't want to talk about Archer.

"What happened?" she repeated.

"I told you. Nothin'."

"You spent the night in his bed. I find it hard to believe nothin' happened." She elbowed him in the chest. "And I'm not talkin' about sex."

"Well, that definitely didn't happen."

"But you wanted it to."

Spencer shrugged, although she wasn't asking. He'd already spilled his guts to both Violet and Elana. He'd had no choice. Ever since that near kiss with Archer, he'd felt like he was one pinprick away from an explosion.

"I wanna just sit right here until they leave," Violet murmured.

"I think Harry and Hermione might feel a bit slighted if you don't go home."

"True." She curled up against him. "Why did I think I could break that stupid curse? I know better."

"I'm gonna tell you somethin' you don't wanna hear."

Violet shook her head. "You should keep it to yourself."

"As easy as it is to blame our decisions on something out of our control, you and I both know we're responsible for our own actions. Your mother didn't poison her family tree because she chose the bad boy over the good one."

"You don't know that."

"I do."

"Next, you're gonna tell me curses aren't real."

Spencer chuckled. "I wouldn't dare. However, I can tell you that your mother made the decisions that landed her where she is today. The same goes for your sisters. They chose the path they went on. And you have to choose yours."

"I know. And I did. Look where it got me. I'm a that ."

Spencer laughed. "I've got a feelin' you came in on the other side of that conversation."

"You're wrong."

"The only time I've been wrong is when I've thought I was wrong."

Violet elbowed him again.

" Oomph . Keep it up, and I'll call Archer and tell him where you are so he can tell Simon."

"You just wanna give him your address."

She wasn't wrong about that. Archer Halligan was leaving town at the end of the week, so his opportunity to get his hands on that ginormous hunk of man was quickly diminishing.

"Just a little while longer," Violet said in that annoyingly sweet voice.

"Another hour. Then you have to put on your big girl panties and talk to Simon."

"Only if you put yours on and talk to Archer."

"Contrary to what you and Elana believe, I don't wear panties," he snapped.

"But you could," she teased.

·····

Violet knew she could've stayed at Spencer's all night if she'd wanted. He wouldn't throw her out. Hell, she could've convinced him to go to her house to feed Harry and Hermione with little effort. Spencer would've gladly done it, no matter how annoying she was being. And yeah, she could admit, she was dangerously close to getting on her own last nerve.

That was the only reason she decided to go home. At least, that was the excuse she told herself when she walked out of his house a few minutes ago.

"This is why you don't date guys you might care about," she ground out, gripping the steering wheel tighter than was necessary as she drove to her house.

Not that it would matter ever again. Violet had learned her lesson. From this point on, she would become the crazy cat lady of Coyote Ridge. They would write stories about her, about how she had seventy-five cats and eventually stopped coming out of her house because she couldn't find the door over all the furballs.

"Gross."

Maybe seventy-five wasn't a good number. That would take a lot of litter boxes. Fifty was probably better. Or thirty. She would have to see when she got to that point.

The thought triggered the memory of Simon's conversation with Paige.

Can we drop it? I'll take care of it when the time comes.

Like on Friday?

Just drop it, please. I'm done talkin' about it.

Violet could still hear the frustration in his voice. The way he sighed as though a mere conversation about her was tiring for him.

All she had to do was steer clear of him for a few more days. Maybe she could keep the store closed and hide out. There weren't any bookish holidays she needed to deal with. October was a big month for that, so she had some time.

Yes. She would just—

The thought died a quick and painful death when she turned down her street and noticed Simon's car parked in her driveway.

"Shit."

Her first instinct was to drive past, but where would she go? She lived on a dead-end street, which meant she would have to drive back by the house to leave.

This wasn't happening.

No, no, no.

With a resigned sigh, she pulled into her driveway at the last second and parked next to Simon's car. She didn't turn it off, though, wondering whether she could wait him out.

Then again, Harry and Hermione were likely looking out the window. They would notice she was home and be anxiously awaiting her arrival. She couldn't keep them waiting. It wasn't fair to them.

Violet stabbed the start/stop button and unhooked her seat belt. She grabbed the keys and her phone before climbing out of her car. Maybe if she ignored him, he would just go away.

"Where have you been?" Simon asked, standing up as she approached the porch.

"Last I checked, you weren't my mother. You don't get to ask me that."

She made the mistake of looking at his face, so she saw the way his jaw clenched. Just a slight move that signaled his frustration.

"I really don't have time to talk," she told him, sidestepping him so she could reach the door. She pulled open the screen and held it open with her butt.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing," she muttered, stabbing her key into the lock. "Not a damn thing."

"Violet."

"Simon," she drawled as she opened the door. "Have a good life."

Before she could close the door, Simon was there, his hand planted in the center of the wood, his foot pushing against the bottom.

"We need to talk, Violet."

"About what? I think you and Paige summed it up nicely."

"What're you talkin' about?"

Tired of trying to close the door, she let go, spinning around and walking toward the kitchen. Simon stumbled behind her.

"I heard you talkin' to Paige. You told her you didn't want to deal with that ." She pivoted, then stabbed her own chest with her thumb. "Me being the that ."

"What?"

"That. She called me a that , Simon. I mean so little to you that you'd qualify me as a that. "

"I have no idea what you're talkin' about."

"Of course you don't. Men and their selective memories." Violet huffed. "It doesn't matter. I'm over it, Simon. I'm over you. We had a good run, but it's time we accept that it's not goin' anywhere."

"I love you."

"I don't need to hear your excuses. They—wait." She turned around. "What?"

"I love you."

She frowned. "No, you don't."

Simon nodded as he took a step toward her. "I do. I love you, Violet."

She shook her head. "That's not possible."

"Why? Because of the curse?"

"Yes."

"You said nice guys don't stick around, right?"

Violet narrowed her eyes, not sure where he was going with this. "Good for you for listening. What about it?"

He took another step closer. "I'm the nice guy who sticks."

Swoon .

No. Not swoon. She wasn't going to swoon.

"I lied," she bit out. "It's not because of the curse."

"No?"

She hated that he was pushing the issue. Shouldn't he just give up and walk out? That was usually what they did.

" No . No." She flapped her arm. "Not the curse."

"Then why?"

"Because it's too soon. I've only known you for seventeen days—not that I'm counting," she tacked on quickly. "That's not nearly enough—"

She stopped talking when he stepped into her personal space, his hand cupping her face. "I love you, Violet."

She shook her head but had to stop when his lips settled over hers.

"You can't love me," she said, although it came out something like "Ooocahhluuuumm" because his mouth was on hers, and she didn't want to pull away.

"But I do," he whispered against her lips, pressing his forehead to hers as he played with her hair.

"But you're leavin'."

"Not if you ask me to stay."

Violet pulled back, needing to look into his eyes. "Are you serious?"

"I'm not sayin' we need to move in together. I'll find a place. And if there's nothin' available, maybe I could convert that storage space into an apartment."

She smiled, couldn't help it. They'd briefly discussed the second-floor storage area she'd yet to convert into a profitable rental property.

"I can pay for the renovations as part of the rent."

"Now you're too good to stay here?" she said, her voice soft.

Simon laughed, the sound causing chills to dance along her arms. "I don't care where I live, Violet, as long as I get to see you every single day. For the rest of my life."

"Why did you tell Paige you'd deal with me on Friday? That I knew what was comin'?"

His eyes were intent. "I don't know what we were talkin' about."

"You accused her of bein' scared."

Simon's eyes widened slightly, his forehead relaxing. "We were talkin' about Max Adorite. About me havin' to interact with him. She's worried about Archer's safety. And yours."

"You said we talked about it."

"We did. At dinner. You said you didn't want me dealin' with a mobster."

She was trying to remember.

"You said I could end up fish food with cement shoes."

"Oh." Yeah. She remembered now. "So you weren't sayin' you'd deal with me on Friday when you left?"

"No."

"Are you sure?"

"I would have to be leavin' on Friday for that to happen."

"You said you were."

"Yeah." He cupped her face again. "Then I spent the last few nights in your bed, Violet. I woke up with you in my arms. I can't walk away from that. I love you, and I want more time with you so we can figure out where this is goin'. Provided you're willin', of course."

Swoon .

Violet nodded, staring deep into those blue/green/gray eyes. She let herself swoon this time. Allowed herself to see past the walls she'd put up to keep nice guys like Simon at a distance.

"I can't say it back," she whispered.

"I don't need you to."

"I want to say it," she clarified.

"Oh."

"But I can't."

"No?"

She shook her head, then leaned in and whispered in his ear. "I'm a bad girl, Simon. I think maybe you should spank it out of me."