Tempting (Inked Hearts 1)

I can't help but laugh.

"I've never been good with words. Or music. Or anything but numbers. I always admired your talent, Asher. I have to admit I was jealous. But it wasn't just your talent."

She looks to me with unsteady eyes.

I run my fingers through her hair. "More fucks might help."

She laughs. "Yeah they might." Her gaze goes back to the ocean. "I was so fucking jealous of you, Asher. I was jealous of your perfect French accent. I was jealous that you had such strong convictions about movies and books. I gave you a lot of shit about being pretentious or boring or only liking stuff for old white guys, but I really admired that you stuck to your guns about Moby-Dick. I admired that you dressed up as gunshot Abraham Lincoln for Halloween that one year, and I was really, really jealous when you got sent home with a suspension."

"Did he really?" I ask.

She nods. "Yeah, it was gruesome and disgusting. Mom and Dad were horrified but they just smiled and went oh honey, you're so creative. Our poor parents were stuck with two weird kids, but they always treated us like we were normal and they always loved each other like Morticia and Gomez Addams. I think The Addams Family was the only TV show both of us liked." She looks down at the urn. "Though I know you liked My Chemical Romance, even though you wouldn't admit it."

I laugh. "Yeah?"

"And Evanescence." She laughs. "You know, I never told anyone that until now. So I guess I owe you one for spilling your secret." Violet hugs the urn to her chest. She takes a deep breath and exhales slowly. "I wish I had been less jealous of you, Asher. I wish we had been closer. Looking back, I can see the cost of it all. You killed yourself trying to keep Mom and Dad happy. You killed yourself trying to be the best pianist in California. And then you killed yourself because you couldn't keep it up anymore. You were a great pianist but you were more than that. You were funny, and smart, and a little pretentious, and sometimes an asshole. And you were a supportive brother. I know you would have done anything for me. And I do wish you'd have told me you were hurting, because I would have done anything for you too."

Violet lifts the lid off the urn and places it on the pier. She looks at me as if to say you ready?

I nod.

Her fingers dig into the slick silver surface. "For a while, I hated you for leaving me with the aftermath of this, but I know you did it because you didn't see another way to stop hurting. Wherever you are, I hope you've found that peace. I hope you don't hurt anymore." She tilts the urn and watches as the wind blows the ashes into the ocean. "I love you. I always will."

Violet stares out at the deep blue ocean for a long, long time. Slowly, her eyes go to the horizon, then to the sand, and then she turns and they're on me.

She leans in to whisper. "Thank you for being here. For thinking of this. For everything."

I want to thank her for a million things—for letting me in, for caring about where I hurt, for looking at me like a guy and not an idea, for being the person who turns the universe into a place that isn't ugly.

But my lips don't want to talk. My lips want on her lips.

I kiss her until I'm out of breath.

Chapter Thirty

Violet

We walk the three blocks to Ethan's place hand in hand. The sounds of the surf get quieter with each of our footsteps, but the silence is comfortable.

Ethan's company is all I need.

He smiles as he leads me inside. "Piper's car isn't in the driveway."

"Oh." I squeal as he scoops me into his arms and spins me. "Ethan!"

"I still owe you one." He carries me up the stairs and into his room—he has to kick the door open. "When you were here two years ago, I should have said fuck, Violet, that's amazing. And I should have thrown you on the bed and made you come until you passed out."

God, it's hot in here. I slide my arms around his shoulders and squeeze tight. "In that case you owe me three or four."

"That's what I was thinking." He tosses me onto the bed, on my back. He drags his fingers up my inner thigh until he's tracing the seam of my jeans.

I crane my neck to catch the time on the alarm clock. I have an appointment later this afternoon, but I have more than enough time for this.

"Something you want to say, honey?" Ethan asks.

I have a timer set for an hour before my appointment. There's no risk I'll be late.

I relax into the bed. My hand goes to Ethan's hair. "You still have a mirror on your ceiling."