A calmness overcomes me and settles inside my chest, I let my hands drift toward Luke’s jeans, resting them right on top of his dick. Right there, in the backseat of the car with his uncle and cousin within earshot. And in return, Luke lets out a throaty groan that makes me want to rip off his clothes and scratch the shit out of him, like I was picturing doing back at the table.

But as my fingers start to wander up Luke’s shirt, my nails gently scratching against his lean muscles, his uncle burst the moment. “Okay, you two, let’s wait until we get back to the house,” he says amusedly. “I promise it’s not that far.”

I’m not one to get embarrassed, but either my cheeks heat or the air gets even hotter. Luke however looks completely unbothered as he sits back in the seat, putting his hands on top of mine so they’re trapped inside his shirt, my palms pressed against his muscles and warm flesh. Then he gives me a look as if he has every intention to continue this right up the moment we get into the bedroom. I just hope I can stay drunk enough that I can go through with it unemotionally, otherwise I might have to find another alternative to settle the emotions buried inside, one’s that want to burst out of me, both old ones and new ones. And I’m afraid once I let them out, I won’t be able to put them back in again.

Luke

Good guy? Bad guy? What kind of guy am I? A few months ago, I knew the answer and I was okay with that. Better to understand yourself then to be completely clueless. Not knowing is hard and right now I’m the biggest, clueless asshole there is. Because I want to fuck the hell out of Violet. I want to fuck her long and hard until she screams out my name and stabs her nails into my skin like she did in the car… God, that made me almost come inside my jeans, right here in the back of the car.

I want her more than anything and need to take her more than anything. That’s what the devil on my shoulder is whispering. But on the opposite shoulder, there’s this little angel, well I guess that’s what it is, but I can’t be certain since I’ve never heard it before. But it’s telling me that Violet’s drunk and hurting, and that it almost seems like she’s trying to cover up her pain by doing reckless things she wouldn’t necessarily do when she was sober. Like coming with me here, being with me, wanting me. It hurts to think about it like that but I can see it in her eyes, the same look she had on the ledge when we were running from Geraldson. Only I’m her ledge this time—her danger.

I go back and forth for the entire drive and come to the decision to be a good guy, but she makes it really complicated when we get back, stumbling into the bedroom together and she starts stripping off her clothes before I can even get the door shut. She’s drunk enough that she’s unsteady on her feet and sloppy with her movements, but the way her eyes stay focused on me is sexy as hell. First the dress, then the slip under the dress… and oh hell, she has no panties on. But before I can even take that all in, off goes her bra. She playfully throws it at me and it ends up hitting my face. I catch it, shaking my head, a smile starting to emerge, but the sight of her bare body in front of me makes me have to bite down on my lip to suppress a moan.

“You’re seriously wasted.” I drop the bra onto the floor, unable to take my eyes off her long, lean legs, flat, inked stomach, her perky nipples.

“So what? So are you.” She backs up until her legs brush the bed, and then she lowers herself down onto the mattress, crooking a finger at me to follow, waiting for me to go get her. And I want to badly, but I need to be a good guy, even if it’s just once in my life.

“I’m always drunk,” I admit truthfully, slowly crossing the room toward her. “You on the other hand usually aren’t.” I stop just short of the bed where her legs are dangling over. “In fact, I’ve only seen you drunk once.”

She gives me a blank stare. “Can you seriously tell me that you’ve never slept with a girl that was drunk before?”

I shake my head. “But you’re different.” I reach out and place my hand on her cheek, intoxicated enough that I don’t give a shit how emotional I’m being. “And I don’t want to sleep with you just because you’re drunk and you’re hurting over something... I want it to mean something… for both of us.” I blow out a breath, my cock getting seriously angry with me. “But if you want to talk about it, we can. In fact, I wish you would.”

She lets out a sharp laugh. “I don’t want to talk at all.” She leans away from my hand, her expression hardening and filling with panic. “Why are you trying to be all chivalrous right now, when hours ago you were so ready to fuck me?”

“Because I got caught up in the moment earlier,” I tell her, letting my hand fall to my side. “And I’m not saying I don’t want you. Trust me, I do, but I’ve just been thinking,” I take a deep inhale and let it out slowly before I sit down on the bed beside her, “About how we haven’t really talked about anything. And I know you don’t want to, which is fine, but I just don’t think we should sleep together. Not until we’ve confronted the stuff between us.” God, this is a first for me.  Naked girl in front of me, legs spread open, and I’m not willing to thrust my cock inside her.

I wait for her to get pissed at me, but instead she starts breathing heavily as if she’s struggling to get air into her lungs and her gaze is sweeping the room, as if she’s searching for a way out, this panicked frenzy taken over the drunken look in her eyes. I’m not sure where it stemmed from so abruptly, but I know enough about panic attacks to know she’s about to have one.

“Violet, relax.” I put a hand on her knee, trying to get her to look at me. “I’m not going anywhere and I’m not going to make you talk about anything you don’t want to.”

Still breathing erratically, she looks down at my hand on her knee then wrenches her leg away from me. “Don’t touch me.” She jumps up from the bed and grabs the slip from off the floor, tugging it over her head. Then she starts for the door, ready to walk out. I get up to grab her, even though I know it’s probably not a good idea to touch her when she’s in this state of mind. But like hell I’m letting her go out there in a piece of fabric that barely covers her ass and shows the outline of her nipples.

“Please calm down.” I pause as her eyes land on me, wild panic flowing from them. I put my hands up, letting her know I’m not going to touch her. “I think you’re having a panic attack.”

“No, I’m not.” Terror fills her expression as she looks from me to the door and then her gaze lands on the window. Without saying another word, she rushes to the window and throws it open, a hot breeze gusting in.

“God dammit, Violet, stop it.” I hurry to her, snagging her arm before she can climb out the window, panicking as I think of Amy. We’re on the second floor and even though she could be okay jumping out, I’m not going to take that risk. “If you get dressed then I’ll let you go out the door…. I just didn’t want you walking out dressed in that.”

“Let me go.” She jerks her arm away from me, glaring at me. “That isn’t what this is about.” Then she swings her legs out of the window, but I grab the back of her dress and pull her to me. She fights against me, wiggling her arms and legs, writhing her body as I wrap my arms around her and pull her back to me. “Let me go… let me go…” she gasps, pushing back against me.

I rock her back and forth and kiss her head. “No, not until you tell me what’s going on.”

“There’s too much…” her voice cracks and even though I can’t see her face, I think she’s crying. “I need to turn it off…” she starts massaging her chest as if it’s tender “It hurts…” Another gasp, then another.

I hug her against me, trying to figure out what I just witnessed and how to calm her down. I’m not sure if she was actually going to jump or if she was just thinking about it, but Jesus, what if she was? What if things are so bad she’s ready to take pain over anything else?