The Destiny of Violet & Luke (The Coincidence, #3)

“It means only you have ever been able to get to me like this. Frustrate me and yet still make me want to be around you at the same time.” He scoots off the railing and stretches his arms above his head, his shirt riding up and giving me another glimpse of his abs. Then he lowers his arms and reaches his hand out toward me. “I think it’s time we did something that we’ve been needing to do since the first day we met.”


“You mean when I kicked you in the face?” I feel my stomach spin as I remember the first night I officially met him and how much things have changed since then, in both good and bad ways. “What did you have in mind?”

He restrains a laugh as I thread my fingers through his and he pulls me to his feet. “I’m going to take you out on a date.”

I choke on a laugh, but realize he’s being serious. “Oh my God, you’re not joking.”

“Of course I’m not joking.” He slides the glass door open. “I don’t joke.”

We enter the living, which has a pungent smell to it due to the garbage all over the place, and then he shuts the door. The air is musty, probably from everyone smoking, and there’s something that looks like wine spilled on the carpet.

“A date?” I ask as he steers me across the living room, kicking some cards and bottles out of the way. “Really? It seems a little formal don’t you think? Considering we’ve kissed, slept together, moved in together, and then all that other stuff you did to me last night.”

He presses his hand to his heart, still holding my hand so I touch his chest, too. He keeps it there as he opens the door to our bedroom. “Hey, don’t pretend you didn’t like it. In fact, I’m pretty sure you were the one who suggested it.”

“I did not,” I tell him. “But I did like it, which makes dating seem even harder. I mean, what are we supposed to do? Sit and eat dinner while we chat about our lives when everything between us is so intense?”

He wavers with uncertainty as he shuts the bedroom door behind us. “Well, we don’t know that much about each other.”

“Yeah, we don’t,” I agree. “But I generally like to keep things that way with people.”

He nods in agreement. “I know, so we can either keep going down the road we’re on and argue until we both lose it again, get drunk, and fool around. Or we can get to know each other and see where things go. It depends on what you want.”

“You’re letting me decide?” I ask, shocked.

He catches his breath for a split second. “Yeah… I think am…”

I swallow hard as I feel the pressure of making a decision. “What if I said no? Would you be upset?”

He sits down on the bed, tugging me down with him. “I’ll only answer that if you tell me the truth about how you’d feel if I said no. The door swings both ways,” he says and a lump forms in my throat as I nod. Now he’s the one swallowing hard. “The truth is… yeah, I would be upset. Even though you’re a pain in the ass, I like spending time with you and I want to keep doing it.”

“You’re kind of a pain in the ass, too.” I nudge him with my shoulder, the smashing weight on my chest easing up. “But I like that you’ve been around for the last few weeks.”

He lets out a laugh and then shakes his head. “Wow, that was fucking hard.”

I laugh, too, and it’s the strangest, most unfamiliar sound. He joins in and we just laugh for a moment. And it’s strange and weird and… well normal.

Then we fall down on the bed, lying side by side, our clasped hands squished between our bodies.

“So what do people generally do when they go out on dates?” I ask as he traces circles on my wrist with his fingers.

His brow arches as his fingers stop moving. “You’ve never been on one?”

I shake my head, pivoting on my hip to face him. “Nope. Never. I already told you I’ve never really had anyone in my life and going on dates would be letting people in.”

His mouth turns upward into a pleased smile that looks strange on his face, yet stunning. “That’s good to know. It means your expectations will be lower.”

I roll my eyes and playfully pinch his arm. “Hardy, har, har, you’re freaking—”

The brush of his lips silences me, my skin flooding with warmth the longer we remain together. He doesn’t try to shove his tongue down my throat, he just lays there, fully content in the simplicity of the moment and I shut my eyes, falling into an easy peace.

Finally, he pulls away. “See simple isn’t so bad, right?” he says, caressing my cheekbone with his finger.

I nod, agreeing, because at the moment, it’s not about the adrenaline. Or how dangerous I thought Luke was or still think he may be. It’s not about how intense he is. Or the escape he gives me. I’m with him because I want to be. I want to be here. And I promise to hold on to that thought all night.

Luke

I’m not even sure why I said it. I don’t date, yet at the same time I don’t keep chasing down the same girl, banging on doors because I think she’s fucking some other dude. Violet’s different. I’m different with her. And either I can keep feeling like I’m losing control or I can try to get back my structure and do things the normal, simple way by getting drunk, screwing, and bailing.

We make plans to go out and then I take shower, change into a clean shirt and jeans and clip on my leather band with “redemption” written on it. Then I spend the rest of the day cleaning the house, while she stays in the room, organizing her stuff. I try to keep it light on the drinks for three reasons: (1) I have to be sober enough to drive; (2) I want to be aware of everything that happens, feel it, live it, because if I’m going to do this, be with her, I’m going to make it worth it; and (3) I don’t want to have to make her check my insulin and help me with pills because I can’t go without my Jack Daniel’s for the night.

Although, I’m not going to just quit cold turkey. I stick to beers, and am only on my second one when Seth comes out around three or four o’clock, looking hungover, but at the same time amused.

“Have fun last night?” he asks with speculation in his voice as he gets a jug of orange juice out of the fridge.

“As much as I ever do,” I say, moving a box of books no one’s bothered to unpack from the floor to the coffee table.

“Yeah, but usually you go after girls who are easy.” He twists the cap off the orange juice. “You were going after the vixen last night.”

I tear the tape off the top of the box. “I really wish you’d stop calling her that.”

He takes a gulp and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “And you’re defending her.” He puts the lid back on and opens the fridge door. “If I didn’t know better, I’d guess you have feelings for the vixen.”

“Her name is Violet,” I say defensively as I open the box. “I don’t know exactly how I feel about Violet yet, but it’s enough that I don’t want you to call her that.”

That stuns him, his jaw dropping. “Jesus, you’re being serious.”

I fidget under his judging gaze as I remove a stack of books from a moving box. “Can we just drop it? I’m already confused enough and the last thing I want to do is talk about it.”

He puts the orange juice back in the fridge and shuts the door. “So what are you going to do about it?”

I drop a stack of books onto the table. “About what?”

“About your feelings for her.”

I shake my head, wishing he’d drop it. “I’m taking her on a date.”

I hear him chuckle under his breath. “Well, that’s normal of you.”

“Yeah, I thought I’d give it a try. See if I like it.”

“I’m sure you will,” he teases. He walks into the living room, raking his fingers through his hair. “Okay, so since I know for a fact that you’re an idiot when it comes to relationships and dating, I’m going to give you some advice. Take her somewhere nice and don’t try to fuck her in your truck.”

“I’m not a complete moron,” I say. “I get that.”

He leans against the entertainment center with his arms folded. “I know you’re not a moron, but I’ve witnessed over the last year how much you like to just screw any girl that walks and how most of them are very willing to give you exactly what you want. And normally, in a normal datelike situation, that’s not how things work. You have to put effort into it.”