The Failing Hours (How to Date a Douchebag 2)

“Would it make you happy if I called it boring instead?”

“Slightly better.” She uses air quotes.

Whoa. Mousy Violet is showing her spine.

“I thought we could strike a deal; if you come to this thing with me, I’ll bring Kyle on a play date with you and Summer.”

“Why would you want to go to a big fundraising event with me? I heard it’s formal.”

“My coach expects me to show up with a date. He didn’t come out and say it, but it was implied.”

“I see.”

“And if I invite some random chick,” I continue. “There will be expectations.”

“Oh.” Her voice sounds oddly disheartened. “When is it?”

“The twenty-eighth. It’s a Saturday, two weeks from this weekend.”

“I guess I can look and get back to you.”

“Can you check right now?”

“I-I suppose, but I don’t have my phone on me.”

“Come on Violet, we both know you want to come with me.”

“I don’t understand why you wouldn’t rather just go by yourself. It’s not like you enjoy anyone’s company.”

“That’s partly true,” I say with honesty. “But I figure we’re in this kid thing together, since you’re stuck with Summer and I’m stuck with Kyle, and none of my friends know any of the details cause it’s none of their damn business, and there is no way I’m taking a wrestling groupie who only uses me for sex.”

She stares at me, flabbergasted, so I continue.

“So if I have to go, I’m making you go with me.”

“I-I don’t know what to say; should I be flattered or insulted?”

I think about this, dole out the truth. “Probably a bit of both.”

Violet’s lips part.

No sound comes out.

Then, her lips press together in a thin line of displeasure. “And just so you know, I’m not stuck with Summer, and you’re not stuck with Kyle.”

I roll my eyes. “You know what I mean.”

She crosses her arms and I swear to fucking God her nostrils flare. “No, I’m afraid I don’t.”

“Oh come the fuck on Violet. Summer is just a job.”

“No, I assure you, she is not. She is a sweet, creative little girl who I’ve been watching for six months and I already love her like family. Like she’s my little sister.”

Now I’m the one pursing my lips and flaring my nostrils. “You know what I meant.”

Those hazel eyes narrow. “Sadly I-I do know what you meant. Basically it was just you being you, but your delivery sucked.”

“So did I blow my chances of you coming with me or not?”

“I-I don’t know.”

“What can I do to convince you?”

She considers my question. “To be honest with you, I-I think you get what you want way too often. The fundraiser is going to take all night, and a play date only lasts two hours, max, so I propose a trade: I’ll go to the banquet if you agree to three play dates.”

What the fuck? “What! No.”

“All right.” She turns her back on me, reaching into the metal returns cart and pulling out a stack, neatly setting them on the counter. Her hands move up and down the spines, aligning them in perfect symmetry.

I sigh so long and loud I catch a few people staring, and I glare.

“Fine. Two play dates.”

She starts to giggle but catches it into a swallow. “Four.”

“What the fuck? Your original offer was three.” I scowl down at her, hard.

She shrugs.

“Fine,” I relent, generously. “Two.”

She busies herself again, returning to the task of removing books from the returns cart. One tidy stack after the next is placed on the counter, and for a few moments I watch her. Her pale fingers with those lavender nails that remind me of Easter. And flowers.

“Violet, quit ignoring me. It’s fucking annoying.”

She ignores me, but I know she’s listening.

“Goddammit. You’re not seriously going to make me go alone are you?”

She pauses to speak but keeps her back turned. “Alone? I suspect you’ll be in a room full of people.”

“You’re supposed to be the sympathetic one here. You don’t feel the least bit sorry for me, do you?”

“I-I don’t think there’s a single soul that feels sorry for you, Zeke Daniels.” I catch the sly little smile stealing its way across her lips as she gives me a view of her profile; she knows she’s got me by the balls.

Which is obviously horseshit.

“Fine. You win.” I hastily blurt the words out in a panicked rush when she disappears into the office behind the circulation desk. “Three play dates.”

Violet sticks her head out, blonde hair framing her face, interest lighting up her features. The extortionist is biting down on her lower lip, fighting a giant smile.

“Three.” She nods. “Summer is going to be thrilled.”

Awesome.

“We can start this Thursday I guess,” I grumble.

She pauses, turns, then walks the short distance slowly back to stand in front of me, pale brows raised a fraction in surprise, the corner of her pink lips tipped just so.

“We can?”

“Don’t act so fucking shocked, it’s not a big deal.”

That’s a lie—it is a big deal, and Violet knows it.