Her parents were on the couch, pretending to watch television.
She offered them a goodnight, heading to bed in a daze.
Her phone rang the second she reached her room. It was Peter.
She smiled while she answered, “Hi.”
She closed her bedroom door softly, not wanting to wake her sister.
“Hey, I forgot to mention that sometimes the guy is so taken by the girl he remains in her driveway, trying to clear his head. Without thinking he might call her, wanting to hear her voice one last time before the night is completely over.”
“I didn't know that,” Violet confessed, her smile widening.
“It's true,” he swore. “He might even get so excited to talk to her again he wakes her early in the morning to see if she wants to get lunch and maybe a movie.”
“Oh, I hope the guy doesn't take offense when the girl is cranky first thing in the morning.”
“Doubtful, he's too taken by her to see her imperfections. That won't come until around date number fifteen or so, but at that point he finds them endearing. It won't be until around year three of marriage that they grate on his nerves.”
“Is that so?”
“Trust me, I know what I'm talking about. I watch Dr. Phil.”
Violet laughed, telling Peter a final goodnight and ending the call.
She went about her nightly rituals in a daze, replaying her first date, not able to fall asleep in anticipation of their second.
Date number two progressed to date number nine, where she had still managed to avoid Parker.
It was Friday night and Peter had begged her to come with him to see a live band at a place eighteen and over. The only problem was it would be with a group that included Parker, the very reason she had declined initially. Peter was insistent, claiming he wasn’t going to hide from Parker and he was finding out that weekend whether she liked it or not. Violet didn't fight it knowing Peter was right, that it wasn't fair to anyone if they kept it a secret all because she was scared.
So there she was, arriving early to Peter’s apartment. She wanted a chance to tell Parker in private before everybody arrived, including Peter, who had another half-hour of work.
Violet reached for the door knob.
It flew open before she had the chance, an angry Parker moving through the frame.
He grabbed her by the elbow, dragging her with him and slamming the door shut behind him. He brought her to the parking lot, enough distance away from the building that nobody could hear them.
“What the fuck!” He cried, crossing his arms, narrowing his eyes at her.
The fury radiating off of him was enough to have an effect on Violet.
She defensively matched his posture, “I was coming to tell you.”
“Why now and not weeks ago?” His fury was building into a bonfire that he was losing control of.
Violet knew the signs and proceeded with caution, “I wanted to make sure it was even worth telling you about first.”
He looked over to his apartment, “He's just using you.”
She couldn't figure out if he said that to try and hurt her or if he truly believed it. Either way, it hurt.
“He's not,” she stated with confidence, truly believing it.
He glared back at her, “You're an idiot if you believe that.”
Violet was too stunned to speak for a second, her own bonfire igniting, “Fuck you, Parker. He's nothing like you. My dad's even coming around to the idea.” It was true. He still didn't like Peter, but he was being decent to him, even carrying on a conversation when he came over for dinner the other night.
Parker's fury slipped a moment before he recovered, “Are you fucking him?”
“That's none of your business.”
Parker enunciated each word, “Yes. It. Is.”
Violet did the same, “No. It. Is. Not.”
“Yeah, it is Violet. You're...” he scrubbed a hand over his face, not finishing what he was about to say.
“Don't you dare say I'm too young!” She shouted, loud enough that it carried through the area.
“I wasn’t going to. Now that you mention it...”
She wanted to scream in frustration, and possibly punch something...or someone.
“Everything okay with you two?” Peter's cautious voice startled them both; they hadn’t heard him approach.
Violet hadn't realized that she and Parker had moved inches apart, shooting death glares at each other, both ready to explode.
Parker turned his wrath on Peter, “Whatever's going on between you two ends. Right now.”
Peter defiantly took Violet’s hand in his, entwining their fingers, “Sorry Parker, but that's not your call to make.”
“I’m not going to let you take advantage of her.”
“I'm not. I've told you my interest in her in the past.”
“Yeah, and I told you it was never going to happen. She's not some random pussy you can fuck and dump.”
Peter then said the words that nobody expected, ones that had Parker stepping back, not having anything more to say, “You had your chance. You blew it. Don't be a dick about it.”
Peter began leading Violet back to his place, pausing to add one last thing, “I don't want to ever hear you yell at her like that again, or make it sound like she's some cheap tramp to me, or I swear to God, Parker, I'll kick your fucking ass.”
Peter was fuming when they made it back to his place. He threw his keys and wallet onto the counter, including his phone that slid off and crashed onto the tiled floor of the kitchen. He didn't bother to see if it survived. A girl Violet recognized as one of the roommates’ weekend groupies was surfing channels on the television.
Violet stormed right in front of it, blocking her view, “Were you the one that told him?”
The girl had the nerve to flick hair over her shoulder, sticking her nose up in a superior manner, “He had a right to know.”
Violet almost pounced, wanting to strangle her, maybe practice some of the more lethal moves her dad and brother had taught her, “Not from you.”
“Well, considering I'm the one girl he's around the most, and slept with him more than anybody else, even kissed more,” she added, as though knowing about Violet and Parker's past and daring her to disagree, “I felt it was, just like any good girlfriend would do.”
“You're not his girlfriend,” Violet snapped.
The woman shrugged as though it was only a matter of time, “We'll see.”
Parker had come back at some point, sliding in next to the girl, an arm going around her shoulder.
In a deeper, sensual voice that annoyed the shit out of Violet, he spoke, “You have been fun to have around all week.”
The girl giggled, putting her French-tipped fingers behind his head and bringing him in for a kiss.
The two went at it as though they were the only ones in the room. Parker never would have done that in front of her in the past. Disgusted, Violet went to Peter's bedroom, who followed.
Violet twirled around, almost whacking into Peter, “How did she know?”
“I'm not sure. I think she saw us the other day, kissing before we ate dinner.”
“She only did it because none of those bitches like me around. They hate that he always ditched them to hang out with me.”
Peter grabbed her, forcing her to look at him and stop her pacing, “Are you jealous?”
She made a “pfft”, following it with an unconvincing, “No. Of course not.”
“I don't want to be a part of some twisted game between you two.”
She let out a sigh, releasing her anger, “I don't want that either. Now that he knows, can we still avoid being around him? I feel like his dickyness is rubbing off on me.”
Peter laughed, pulling her into his arms, kissing her lips, “Dickyness?”
“Yup,” she nodded, standing by the word, never liking to show anything but self-assurance.
He broke a long kiss, “It fits, and I agree.
I don't want his perpetual bad mood to ruin whatever's happening between us, 'cause Vi?” He held her face in his hands, “I thought I was crazy about you before, but now...it’s way beyond that. It’s to the point that I won't go down without a fight.”
Violet kissed him with everything she had, wanting him to know how crazy she had become about him, because she had.
The concert was a blast. Violet was successfully able to ignore Parker and his blatant sexual display. At one point, someone in their group was asking them to find a bathroom and not have sex while sitting right there.
Violet didn’t look over to find out if they were or not. She didn't want to care anymore. She had a guy that truly cared about her and wanted to be with her. She had finally learned how to let Parker go...or to at least convince herself that she had.
Chapter 30
Grenade
Date number nine lead to months. Four to be exact. The couple groped each other in Violet’s driveway. Both of them were deeply infatuated, the desire of a new relationship making it so they were unable to keep their hands off each other.
“I know what happens next,” Violet breathed heavily as Peter sucked along her neck, his hand under her shirt.
“What's that,” he murmured, his fingers playing with her nipple in a way he had discovered she loved.
She took a moment to enjoy what he was doing, reaffirming what she was about to tell him, “The guy, who's now really her boyfriend.” She liked the way he smiled and nodded into her neck as he continued to deliciously play with her sensitive skin, “Offers to make her dinner – they both know he'll order takeout – at his place, where they have only hung out a few times, hoping – but not expecting – that this will lead to them going to his bedroom, where despite his abundance of experience, he’ll be just as insecure and nervous as she is.”
Peter stilled, slowly lifting his head, searching her eyes, “That doesn't have to happen. I can wait for however long you need.”
“I don't want to wait,” she assured him, kissing his lips. It felt right. Their whole relationship did. The past four months had been some of the best in her life.
“Why don't I cook you dinner and we can take it slow, no pressure?”
Violet agreed, knowing there was only one way the night would end. She couldn't wait any longer. All this foreplay had been driving her insane, and she thought she might combust if things didn’t progress.
Six weeks later, Parker couldn't believe that his life had gotten so pathetic he was tagging along on a date with his sister and her boyfriend.
Wes had won his eleventh game in a row as the team’s captain, and they were celebrating at an overpriced, fancy restaurant.
They didn't make Parker feel unwanted, but it was obvious that this night was planned to be a romantic one that he was ruining because he couldn't stand being home. He was sick and tired of going to bars.
“How are you handling Vi and Peter?” Wes asked after they had given their orders.
Parker ordered a Double Royal on the rocks, which he planned on finishing, plus several after that.
He tried to remain as aloof and reserved as possible, “It's weird, but whatever.”
It was more than weird. Violet was over at his place all the time and it was never to see him.
His chest tightened, remembering the times he’d caught them fooling around on the sofa, or just laughing together – that one almost hurt the most. Every time he had to look at Peter or even hear him breathing he wanted to beat the shit out of him. What right did he have to go out with Violet and call her his fucking girlfriend?! Wasn't there supposed to be some kind of Bro Code that forbade friends going out with another friend’s girl?
Except Violet wasn't Parker's.
His drink arrived just in time. He knocked it back in one swallow. Ava and Wes stared at him as though they were worried he was going to jump over a cliff.
It was tempting. He had never been this fucking depressed in his life.
Depression didn’t feel like a strong enough word to cover it all.
The two had the good sense not to bring up the golden couple again. They even stopped trying to include Parker in their conversations, since he only answered with one or two words.
He knew the right thing was to not have come at all, but his life was that pitiful that he had nowhere else to go. He had already hung out with his moms all day, which at twenty-two years old was a level of pathetic he couldn't handle. Not yet anyway, give it another week or two.
He knocked back another double.
It became his third, no fourth...hmm, maybe it was his fifth…either way, he was good and drunk, not even remembering the car ride home or how his drunk ass had stumbled up the stairs to his apartment. Lucky for him the door was unlocked so he didn’t have to try and do it himself. The only light in the apartment was a glow coming from the fridge.
He set his wallet, keys, and phone down on the counter.
A head poked up. “What are you in the mood...” Violet stared at Parker, unblinking.
Parker did the same, except he was able to notice the flush to her cheeks, the vibrant way her eyes shined, and the sexy way her hair was tousled and messy. He had seen that look on hundreds of women.
He thought he might be sick. Especially when Peter came out in only his boxer briefs, talking to Violet as though this happened all the time.
“Hey, babe, can you grab me...” Peter also trailed off, but his lasted a fraction of a second, not letting Parker's presence bother him, “...a beer?”
“Sure,” Violet replied in a soft voice, grabbing a few things from the fridge and closing it, holding them in her arms. Now the only light came from a street lamp right outside the kitchen window, showcasing her wearing only a crocheted afghan, the one Peter's grandma had made him that was always on his bed.
“When did this start happening?” Parker slurred, the room spinning (and not from the alcohol).
None of this was right. None of this was the way it was supposed to be. Violet was supposed to be his. Her body, and everything she had to offer, were meant for Parker, and only Parker.
Violet tightened her hold on the afghan, “Why does it matter?”
It didn't, but at the same time it did.
“How does it feel to be another notch on his bed post, another one of his sluts?” Parker was saying things he knew he shouldn't, things he didn't mean.
“Fuck off, you’re drunk,” Peter ordered as though he owned the place, coming closer to help Violet.
Violet held her hand up to stop Peter, her steely eyes placed on Parker.
He was about to get a verbal smack down. He recognized when she had lost it.
He was ready for it, it would give him an excuse to be more of an ass.
“We've been sleeping together for over a month. The night I lost my virginity, he told me he loved me. I know what you’re about to say, that he tells that to every girl, but we both know you’d be lying. I don't care if you like us being together or not. It's happening. Get over it. If you can't, that's your problem. Regardless, you are never allowed to talk down to me like that again. Got it?”
Parker had no rebuttal; everything she had said was true.
He left, but not before punching Peter square in the jaw.
He hopped into his car, his intoxicated driving a stupid idea.
It didn't take long before he had arrived at The Recovery Room. Parker scanned the bar, not looking for what he usually sought; that wouldn't do for tonight. He needed physical pain to take away the internal one.
He spotted exactly what he was looking for – a guy twice his size and almost as drunk. Parker had no trouble provoking the guy. It lead to a full on brawl that had both men bloody and breaking chairs and tables all around them. It didn’t stop until the police arrived, arresting both men.
When it was time for his phone call, he had already figured out who he wanted it to be. It was a decision he made for selfish reasons that he would later come to regret and think o
f as the worst decision he’d ever made, and that's saying something.
Late into the night, Parker emerged from the downtown Mesa Police Department.
Noah Baxter was leaning at the bottom of the stairs on a rail, waiting for him.
“Thanks,” Parker mumbled.
Noah didn't speak until they were in the privacy of his car, “What happened?”
Parker appreciated that he didn't sound disappointed or concerned, only curious.
“Had a bad night. Needed someone to take it out on.”
“Could have called me.”
He should have; unfortunately, he was too far gone to have thought of it.
“Want to talk about it?”
This was the moment he would come to regret, “Came home to find out Peter's been fucking Violet.”
“Excuse me?” Noah roared the engine to life, driving the car as he asked.
“Yup, it's been happening for some time.”
Coward. Useless-fucking-coward, who also happened to be pathetic and undeserving of anyone’s love. Who tattled on their best friend since elementary school?
Pathetic, cowardly, worthless losers, that's who, and Parker was their fucking president.
It took Noah five minutes to make a fifteen minute drive. He stormed up Parker's apartment stairs, his rage strong enough that Parker expected to hear thunder clapping the sky.
The door was still unlocked from earlier, which was a good thing. Parker didn’t think Noah had the patience for locks at the moment, and probably would have kicked the door in to save time.
Parker followed like a greedy fucking pet, wanting his treat.
It was delivered the minute Noah threw open Peter's bedroom door, where Violet happened to be on top of Peter, her naked backside to the door.
Violet jumped from the noise, snatching the sheet to cover herself as she got off of Peter and faced the door.
The two on the bed paled at the sight of Noah's massive form entering the room.
Noah's skin was the reddest Parker had ever seen it as he shouted at Violet, “You have one minute to get your ass in my fucking car!” He then pointed at Peter, “Don't ever come near my daughter again.”
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