I’m about to leave when the door opens and she’s coming out in a towel, the clothes she had on before in a bundle under her arm.
She freezes, eyes wide.
Poor girl is terrified, probably thinking this was my plan – get her naked and corner her. Though, sounds like a fuckin’ plan to me.
“Sorry, honest, I did not mean to be here. Gym’s jam-packed.”
I back out of the room and head toward the terrace doors where I immediately drop and give myself twenty for my impure thoughts. And then I have more of those delicious thoughts, so I give myself twenty more.
***
She doesn’t surface until evening.
My stomach is audibly protesting that I’ve been at my desk most of the day getting ahead with shit, so I head to the kitchen and she’s there, her right sole against her left calf, her sweatshirt falling off her shoulder, revealing creamy, beautiful skin.
“Want some?” she asks, looking over her shoulder at me while spooning salad into a bowl.
Yeah. Want is a good word.
My first thought is that I don’t know how to translate the look on her face. Sometimes my first instinct is that she’s being sultry intentionally. But her looks of terror that generally accompany my reaction suggest otherwise. My second thought, it’s more of an urge. It’s the urge to sink my teeth into the skin between her throat and shoulder, pinning her against the counter, grinding against her ass, and then kissing the teeth marks I leave behind all better before I feed her dinner with my fingers and then curl up and give her a foot rub.
“Yeah. I want some.”
Salad sounds like a shitty alternative, but I am hungry, so it’ll do for now.
She bites her lip and studiously avoids my gaze as she serves out two big bowls of the stuff, before pulling open a drawer for two forks.
And I suspect she’s doing the same as me, picking up on every potential double entendre.
“I was just, um, watching something, so I’m gonna just go eat in my room.”
I stare at her and I don’t hide my annoyance.
“Later,” she says, avoiding my gaze as she grabs two bottles of water from the fridge and sets one beside the bowl she’s left for me.
She slides by me without looking up, intentionally avoiding my face. I grind my teeth before I grab my bowl, fork, and water and sit alone at the table to eat. It’s good. Great, actually. All sorts of flavor, lots of grilled chicken in it. I eat two large bowls of it. But I’m pretty fucking annoyed right now at eating alone.
She’s hiding from me and I hate it. I just need to decide what I’ll do about it.
***
Monday:
When I wake up, I snicker at the fact that Iadanza is in the dark. The power has been cut to Violet’s apartment, courtesy of a friend of a friend. There’s also a block so he can’t get on the internet if he’s found a phone or computer to do it with.
I find her in the kitchen chatting with Patricia. Violet’s wiping the counter and Patricia has a cup of coffee in her hand. I give Patricia a pointed look. She snickers and then winks at me.
Violet looks over her shoulder at me and stops, mid-sentence.
Patricia is Alana’s cousin, another woman that thinks of me as a sibling she has to protect. She’s going to call me later, I’m sure, and tell me what she thinks of Violet. The fact that Violet was wiping a kitchen counter – my guess is she’ll get high praise from Patricia who has made opinions known about how Jessa, Kenya, and other women have treated my place – and her.
Violet tells me in the car on the way to drive her to work, without looking me in the eye, that she’s meeting with Susanna after work for dinner and shopping, since they didn’t get a chance to spend Sunday together. She adds that Susanna is bringing her back afterwards.
“How’s your grandfather?” I ask.
“As of last night, resting comfortably. I’m expecting a call from my mother this morning with an update.”
“See you tonight,” I say and give her a look of promise. She goes wide-eyed and scrambles out of the car, making a quick escape.
***
She gets back that night at 11:05, and I’m sitting on my couch, watching the news on television with my laptop open, a drink in my hand.
She says hello with a nervous wave and quickly disappears to her bedroom before I can say more than hey.
***
Tuesday
I wake up to a note from her. She forgot she had to be at work early for a meeting, so she drove herself. She’ll see me later.
I’m pissed.
I take it out on everyone around me at two of my bars that afternoon.
I have shit to do and a meeting with my lawyer, so I don’t get back until nine o’clock. She’s in her room when I get in. I knock on her door, certain I hear her television on low.
The room goes silent.
I’m almost ready to go in there, but keep myself in check after pacing the hall for a good five minutes, talking myself down.
I stalk to my own room instead after leaving a note on the counter by the coffee maker.
“If you try to drive yourself to work today, you’re getting that spanking we previously discussed.”
I go to bed and set my alarm extra early to catch her reaction.
***
I’m in bed, watching her read the note on the security app bright and early the next morning. She grabs her throat and drops the note before squatting, snatching it, and hurrying back to her room, scratching nervously at her throat.
No, I’m not happy about this.
She’s waiting for me when I come out of the bedroom. She’s got her coat on and she’s sitting at the table with her hands wrapped around her travel mug. She’s poured me a cup of coffee to-go, too, but looks concerned when she sees me. I’m only wearing lounge pants.
“I had a late night. Mind driving yourself this morning?” I ask, reaching for the coffee cup.
I couldn’t sleep last night and waking up early to watch her read my note has me feeling sour.
She’s staring at my chest, my abs, my Adonis belt.
I flex for effect.
Her lips part and she looks away.
As soon as she looks at me again, I do another flex while taking another mouthful of coffee.
“Buh… buh-bye. Have a good day.” She rushes toward the door, tripping and righting herself just a second before she’d do a face-plan into the column.
“Violet,” I growl.
She spins to look back at me, but her hand is on the doorknob.
“Tonight, six o’clock, you’re having dinner with me. Don’t make other plans.”
She stares blankly and then winces. “Actually, that might not be-”
“I insist,” I cut her off.
“But…”
“It’s best to cooperate when I insist, Dimples,” I say.
She blinks and then swallows. “Okay,” she squeaks and turns the lock, then reaches for the knob.
“Disarm the alarm first,” I tell her, but it’s a split second too late so the siren blares.
I jog over and quickly clear it.
“Sorry.” She looks at me with regret.
Yeah, I’m awake now. So are my neighbors.
Fear flickers in her eyes as she stares at me.
“Tonight,” I remind her.
She leaves.
I sit down on my couch and kiss my teeth. Pissed.