Happily Enemy After (Hawthorne Brothers 2)

~

And she tried. But in the end, I was still quicker, so here we are at my favorite tavern on the Pier with a free slab of barbecue ribs and a can of my favorite lager. Violet ordered the Cobb salad, fries, a slice of key lime pie and a glass of California Chardonnay. In spite of all that, she doesn’t look happy.

“Good food, isn’t it?” I ask her.

Violet doesn’t answer.

“It’s even better when you’re not eating with a long face.”

She lifts her head to meet my gaze, her long face still on.

Okay. So that didn’t work. What else can I say to try and cheer her up?

“For your first time, you did good,” I tell her.

She pauses in the middle of eating a fry and narrows her eyes at me. “Better than all the other women you’ve brought here?”

Violet sure is competitive.

“Way better,” I answer.

“Liar,” she scoffs.

What the hell?

“You’re just being nice, which you’re not,” she says. “You know what else you’re not? That good. You only beat me by twelve points. I’ll beat you next time. Also, I tallied my points faster than you did.”

That she did, but only because I was distracted… by her. I didn’t really have a chance to look at her while we were playing because I had to focus to win. That was how good a fight she put up. When it was finally over, I couldn’t help but stare, and so I guess I got distracted.

“You’re a sore loser,” I tell her.

She looks at me with an angry expression.

Okay. Fine. Maybe I shouldn’t have called her that, especially since she probably still is… sore after all the sex we had this morning.

I let out a breath. “Fine. I’ll let you ask me a question as a consolation prize. Any question.”

Her eyebrows crease. “Just one question?”

“Fine. Three.”

That makes her grin. Finally.

She eats a forkful of salad and takes a few seconds to chew.

“Okay. First question.”

Here goes.

“What’s your favorite movie?”

I nearly laugh. That’s it? And here I thought she was going to ask me a serious question.

Still, I decide to take this seriously and answer, “Imitation Game.”

Violet nods. “Good choice.”

I’m glad she approves.

She takes a sip of wine as she thinks about her next question.

“Would you rather… be able to read minds or be invisible?”

“Hmm.” I set my fork down. “This one’s tough.”

Especially since they’re not the super powers I’d really want to have. If I had to choose, my top three would be super strength, invulnerability and flight.

“Read minds,” I answer.

Then I could find out who’s really on my side and who’s not and make sure the latter don’t get in my way.

“So you can get any woman to sleep with you?” Violet asks.

Please. I don’t need to be a mind reader for that. In fact, if I could read minds, it would be too easy.

“Is that your third question?” I ask her.

Her eyebrows arch. “Oh. No, it’s not.”

I didn’t think so.

“Careful,” I say. “You don’t want to waste your third question.”

Again, she pauses to think. I brace myself.

“Why do you sleep around?” Violet asks.

I wasn’t expecting that. And I don’t know the answer.

Why indeed? Is it just because of what happened with me and Farrah? Or is it something deeper? Am I damaged? I don’t know. I’ve never been to a shrink.

I shrug. “Because I love sex?”

I thought Violet would blush. She looks pretty when she blushes. Instead, her eyes narrow.

“You don’t sound sure.”

“Well, it’s true,” I tell her. “I just don’t know if it’s good enough for you.”

She says nothing and goes on to eat her salad in silence.

Okay. Now I wish I could read her mind.

Have I offended her somehow? Does she hate me more now? Is she never going to have sex with me again?

When Violet showed up at my door, I was genuinely surprised, more so when she started kissing me. I didn’t think she’d want to have sex with me again. I didn’t think I’d want to have sex with her again. But I did. And so we had sex again and again and again. And still, I want more. Weird.

“Did you sleep with Casey?” she asks me.

My eyebrows furrow. “Who’s Casey?”

She sighs. “My friend from Wharton. The one you saw with me at the café. The one you said you’d ask out sometime.”

Oh. Her. Honestly, I can barely remember what she looked like.

“No.”

“Okay.”

She continues to eat her salad in silence. What? Does she not believe me?

I suddenly have an urge to tell her that she’s special, that she’s unlike all the women I’ve met. Maybe then she wouldn’t look so worried. But if I did, would she believe me?

I decide not to.

“Do you want to walk around after this?” I ask instead before glancing at my watch. “If we finish in half an hour, we can still go to the garden. Then we can go to East End Plaza, which has the best views of the lake. How does that sound?”