Desires of the Dead Page 18
“God, I really am the guy,” she glowered, but her shoulders slumped.
He hauled her toward him, dragging her into his arms. “Stop it. You are not the guy.” He kissed her on the mouth, ignoring the fact that she wasn’t kissing back. But as annoyed as she was, it was hard to stay mad. Especially here . . . now. It truly was magical.
So when he pulled out the Oreos and dangled them in front of her—a peace offering—she shook her head and sighed. “You’re impossible.” But there was no real fight in her words, and she couldn’t stop her lips from twitching when he grinned down at her.
He took her reluctant smile as surrender and settled back, bringing her with him until they were curled up against each other.
Violet took a cookie and twisted it apart, eating first one half and then the other, the way she’d always eaten them since she was a little girl.
Jay waited a moment before breaking the silence. “I know you really don’t like to talk about this stuff, but I want to make sure you’re okay. Ever since that day in Seattle with Chelsea, you’ve been going through something. I haven’t asked you about it, because I knew you needed some time to work things out, but now . . . I just thought . . . you know, that maybe you’d want to talk about it. Maybe tell me about the boy.”
Violet froze. The silence that followed could have swallowed her; it seemed to deepen with each second that passed. She wanted to say something, just to make the hush between them vanish, to replace it with something. Anything. But she couldn’t. Her voice was gone; words escaped her; her thoughts had gone astray.
She didn’t want to think about the boy. Not now. Not ever again.
She’d spent so much time trying to erase him from her memory, so much time trying to banish him, that she was unwilling to reopen that door, even at Jay’s request.
She didn’t know why he would want her to. Why he would ask her to do that.
Violet tipped her head back, struggling for the right thing to say but coming up empty. Finally she just shook her head. “I can’t.”
She thought he’d argue, try to convince her. But he didn’t. Of course he didn’t. He was Jay, and Jay wouldn’t push her like that. She should have known better.
He smiled sweetly, crookedly, and her pulse hammered out of control. “Okay,” he answered, pressing a whisper-soft kiss to her brow. His hand spread over her hip, his fingertips gentle, reassuring.
They lay there like that, in a different kind of silence now, watching the lake and the stars, listening to the night, each basking in the warmth of the other. Violet listened to the muffled sounds of his heart until her breathing slowed, becoming steady and even. She let him wrap his arms around her. He kissed her, but with more restraint this time, more caution than before.
And even though she hated to be the one to end their evening, she knew that someone had to.
“We should probably go,” she finally said, pulling her cell phone out to check the time. “It’ll be after ten by the time we get home.”
“Do we have to?” Jay grumbled, trying to hold on to her.
“Unless you have a better idea . . .” she hinted suggestively, only half-joking.
But she knew that Jay wouldn’t take the bait, much as she wanted him to. Instead he gathered the leftovers while Violet folded the blankets and helped carry everything to his car.
“Do you mind if we stop at Mike’s house on the way back? He helped me run my errands this afternoon, and he left his wallet in my car. I just need to drop it off.” He slid the cooler in the trunk.
Violet sighed, wishing they could have this one evening without anyone else. It didn’t seem like too much to ask. “Can you take me home first?”
He looked at her like she was crazy. “It’s right on our way,” he explained. “Besides, it’ll only take a sec.”
“Whatever,” Violet muttered under her breath. She didn’t slam the door, but she’d wanted to.
She hated feeling this way, and hated it even more because she definitely was not supposed to act like this . . . pouting over a quick stop on their way home from the perfect date. What the heck had gotten into her anyway?
She knew she was being irrational, but she couldn’t help herself. She crossed her arms over her chest when they stopped at what she could only assume was Mike’s house, and when Jay promised he’d be right back, she refused to look at him.
Clueless to the wrath she was mentally raining down upon him, Jay left her there, bounding up the short porch steps in two long strides and pounding on the front door. When it opened, he disappeared inside.
Only once she was alone did Violet pay any attention to her surroundings, to the dilapidated little house where Jay’s new boyfriend lived. It was set back in the woods, down a long, single-lane dirt driveway that afforded them complete privacy. And it was dark, with only the porch light to break up the blackness that settled bleakly over the property. Tall trees encroached all around the tired-looking house. The paint was faded and peeling, and there were rusty window screens propped alongside the rickety front steps. There was something about the isolated location, the spooky house, and the absolute darkness that gave Violet the creeps.
But just as he’d promised, Jay was back out within minutes, and Violet was relieved to see him, despite the fact that she was determined to keep her oath of silence where he was concerned.
It was then, however, that Violet felt the unexpected whisper of real jealousy shoot through her. Mike’s sister, Megan—not Mike—poked her head out the front door, waving to Jay. She said something that Violet couldn’t hear, but the tone of her voice, which Violet could hear even through the closed windows, was something that Violet would have recognized anywhere.