“Only child.”
“That explains the cockiness,” Violet teases right before our drinks arrive. I pick mine up and hold it out toward her. She clinks my glass before we both take a long sip of the bitter alcohol.
“Why does it explain the cockiness?”
“Well, I’m guessing you were quite a naughty boy,” she cajoles, her tone light and playful. But she’s completely right. I was a nightmare.
“I was quite the lad,” I inform her. “I mean, look at me.” I can’t help winking at her, which makes a blush bloom on her cheeks.
I’m astounded at just how beautiful this woman is. And I’ve spent most of my adult life around models that young girls aspire to be like. But Violet outshines every woman on each glossy page of the magazines I’ve worked with.
“But in all seriousness, I was my mom’s boy. I still am. She went through some dark times. But I never wanted for anything. We didn’t have much at that stage, but I had dinner every evening, and I studied hard to make sure I could one day give her everything she needed as she got older.”
I don’t know why I’m admitting all this to her, but Violet’s eyes gloss with emotion as she watches me. I’ve never been open to people, never allowed myself to admit my past. The only person who knows about all those dark times would be Simon.
“You were right, “Violet states.
I sit back, twisting the glass on the table, but I keep my gaze on her. “About?”
“You are more than you appear,” she affirms with a nod. “I guess I was bad at judging you before knowing you.”
“I think it’s something everyone does, even when they don’t mean to. We grow up in societies that show us that outer appearances mean more than personality,” I assert earnestly. Our dinner arrives, and it smells delicious. We order another two beers, and I can’t help but smile at Violet drinking lager with me. Most women I’ve been with prefer their fancy cocktails or wine, but as I watch her drink down the last of the beer, I realize I’ve also judged her unfairly. There is so much more to the beauty than meets the eye.
“You’re right.” Violet nods. “We do look at the appearance of someone, anyone, and we think we know what they’re like. It’s maddening to know there are people out there who may miss the opportunity of love, or a job, just because they don’t fit a certain precedent.”
“Tell me, what’s your precedent?” I ask before biting into the warm, melty goodness of the pizza. Flavors burst on my tongue, and I can’t help but groan.
“About?” she asks with a smile, a cheesy string sticking to her chin, and without thinking, I reach over and swipe it away, bringing it to my lips and tasting it from my thumb. Another deep-pink blush appears on her cheeks. There’s an innocence about her, a shyness I find alluring.
“Men.”
Violet considers this for a moment. “I just want someone who will accept me for who I am. I’m not going to change to make someone like me. I think too many women do that, and it’s sad. I’m shy, yes, but I’m also quirky, I enjoy a good movie and even a night out, but there are times I like to relax at home on my couch.”
Tipping my head to the side, I regard her with a vested interest. “So, you’re not looking for tall, dark, and handsome?” I challenge.
A laugh tumbles from her lips, and I can’t stop staring at her mouth. The thoughts racing through my mind have turned filthy, and I’m tempted to lean in and kiss her. But I have a feeling Violet is someone who needs to take things slow.
“For me, I want someone who I can get along with on a personal level,” she discloses, completely oblivious to how intriguing she is. Just how much she’s captured my attention.
“Someone you can have good banter with, or chat with,” I finish her thought without realizing it. Because what she’s just described is me. It’s what I want from a relationship as well.
“Yes.” The one word is a whisper. Our eyes lock, hers shimmering with excitement, and I know mine only reflects what I see in her stare. “tell me about that tattoo,” she quizzes me slowly, “it’s rather feminine.”
“It is. There’s a reason for it. When I was little, I used to suffer from bad dreams. My mom bought a dreamcatcher and told me that it would always keep me safe by catching the nightmares and keeping them from haunting me.”
“That’s sweet, I like that a lot.” There’s a wistful smile on her face, which, in turn, makes me grin.
“Didn’t think I was such a catch, did you?” I wink playfully. “The tattoo just reminds me that she’s always there, looking out for me.” Violet opens her mouth to speak, but we’re interrupted before she can say anything.
“Can I get you, folks, anything else?” The shrill voice of our server breaks the connection, but I know it’s there. I felt it; I saw it. Violet can’t deny she wants me as much as I want her.
“No, we’re still good, thanks.” Violet finds her voice before I do because I don’t want to look away from her. Once we’re alone again, she asks, “How did you get into modeling anyway?”
With a smile, I sit back and answer, “When I was about seventeen, I got approached by an agent who had been scoping out new faces in the city. I was on my way to school, but he gave me his card and told me if I wanted to become famous and make some money, I should give him a call.”
“Sounds dubious,” she teases.
“I thought he was a dodgy fuck too.” I chuckle when I recall telling Simon about it. We had a good laugh, but then curiosity got the better of me, and I did end up going. “But when I called, it was a real agency. I did research for a couple of weeks before actually heading to their offices.”
“Was it something you always wanted to do?”
“To be honest, no. I never thought of myself in that way. I mean, I was a party animal, but I never thought I’d be making money by taking my kit off.” I sip my drink before continuing. “But I realized soon enough there are challenges that come with this career.”
“I think most careers come with challenges, but being in the public eye can be difficult.”
Nodding, I add, “It is. Everything you do or say gets scrutinized. And even though we’re pretty to look at, we make mistakes.”
“You’re pretty to look at?” she challenges with a grin, lightening the conversation.
“Easy there, love,” I cajole as I arch a brow. “Be nice.”
“I’m always nice.” Her retort is hot, burning me with want to see just how fucking nice she can be. “Don’t look at me like that,” Violet bites out.
“Like what exactly?” This time, I lean forward, needing to be closer, to inhale her scent, to listen to her words without the noise of the restaurant in the way. Her gaze locks on mine, and I know exactly what I’m doing to her when she shifts in her seat.
14
Violet
“I don’t know.” Shaking my head, I turn my attention to my empty glass as I attempt to play off what he’s making me feel. The hunger in his eyes is dangerous, fire burning in my gut, reminding me it’s been too long since someone has looked at me the way he is.