Ethan
Violet walks through the foyer and takes in the living room with familiarity. Besides the matter of me and Mal—my brother is the lead singer in our band—being several million dollars richer and several million times more famous, things are mostly the same.
We still stay at our parents' place when we're in southern California. They still spend most of their time pursuing research in tropical countries. Piper is nineteen now, but I still don't feel right leaving her alone.
After she washes up in the downstairs bathroom, Violet takes a long look at the couch. "I can sleep here."
"No."
"Tell me what to do again and I'm walking home."
"Take my bed."
She stares back at me.
"I'm gonna insist. You'll save the two of us a lot of arguing if you agree now."
She looks me up and down. It's not an I'm glad we're not together look. It's I want the two of us on that bed, naked.
I lead her to my room anyway.
She closes the door and sits on the bed. Her eyes meet mine. She presses her lips together, taking a deep breath.
I know that look too. I know every expression Violet can make. She's working up her nerve to do something.
She exhales slowly. "Goddammit, Ethan. You know I haven't got any tact." She crosses and uncrosses her legs. Then she's spreading them apart. "You want to help me?"
"Wouldn't put it that way."
"If you really want me to feel better, then fuck me."
What the hell?
I pinch myself to see if I'm dreaming.
I'm not. Violet is in my bed, her legs spread, her lips parting with anticipation.
She's asking me to fuck her.
This is not how this fantasy goes. And I drift to it plenty of nights on the road.
I go to my dresser, grab a t-shirt and boxers for her to wear, and throw them to her. "You're drunk."
"If I was drunk, I'd be numb and I wouldn't have to ask." She slides the leather jacket off her arms and pushes herself off the bed. "Please, Ethan. You have any idea how badly I hate myself for asking you this?"
"That line work on other guys?"
"I don't mean it like that."
"You have more game than this."
"Okay. Let me start over." She plays with the hem of my t-shirt. Then her fingers are on my bare skin, sending heat to all my appendages. "It's not just that I want to feel something else. You were good. The best I've ever had."
"You're fucking with me." I bite my tongue so I won't ask questions about these other guys she's been fucking.
"No. I still think about you. About your calloused fingers between my legs." She moves closer, until her breath is warming my skin. "I think about that night in the lifeguard stand."
Goddammit, that's a fucking fantastic thought. I want to push that dress to her waist and stroke her until she comes.