The Probability of Violet & Luke (The Coincidence #4)(20)
Author: Jessica Sorensen

I want to argue with him, not just about what he said but about how bad it is for me to go with him. Luke and I have yet to even begin to confront the major thing that tore us apart two months ago, so taking off without dealing with that seems like such an impulsive, potentially disastrous thing to do. But I’d rather deal with Luke then deal with Preston anymore. Living with him has been a nightmare and I need to breathe without feeling like my lungs are crushing me, if only for a moment. So I get up and pack my stuff, knowing that I’m only running away from my problems and avoiding the ones in front of me. And eventually I know it’s all going to crash down on me.

It always does.

Chapter 6

Luke

We leave Violet’s house with a little more confrontation from Preston, but I can tell the guy is a total pu**y, backing down when I challenge him because he knows I can beat his ass. He makes me sick, how he treats her, uses her lack of family as a weapon against her. It’s like an obsession—a sick obsession like my mother has with controlling me.

But I try not to think about that as we drive out of town and onto the highway. It’s late, the moon bright in the sky as we head in the direction of Vegas, which is about a twelve-hour drive from Laramie. Violet is by my side, sitting quietly. Well, sitting in the same truck as me since she’s managed to put as much distance between us as possible, leaning up against the passenger door. Space. There seems like so much of it between us, even though I could reach over and touch her.

For a while, I think she’s fallen asleep, her head resting against the window, her weight leaning against the door, her chest rising up and down as she breathes softly. I’m reaching for the stereo to turn on some music, when she abruptly sits up, looking very much awake.

“So what exactly did he say to you?” she asks, turning toward me and bringing her leg up onto the seat.

I return my hand to the steering wheel. “I’m not sure what you’re talking about.” Actually, I am, but I don’t want to talk about it… don’t even want to think about it.

“Preston.” Her voice is flat—emotionless—like when I first met her and it kills me on the inside hearing it again. “In the living room, when I walked away, did he tell you what I’ve been doing for the last two months while I was staying with him?” She’s trying to remain indifferent, but her voice cracks at the end, revealing how much it hurts her and makes me want to hurt Preston more than anything.

“I don’t care what he said,” I say, gripping the steering wheel tightly as I attempt to focus on the road instead of the anger burning inside me. “I only care what you say.” I pause, waiting for her to tell me. It’s not like it was a new revelation. I’d seen them kissing in the parking lot earlier today, but still, it feels like there’s so much more to it, or maybe that’s just me being stupid and naïve, something I never thought of myself as before. “Do you want to talk about it?”

She shakes her head. “Nope.”

God, she’s so hard to read when she’s this closed off. “Do you want to talk about anything at all?” Like the big old stinking elephant sitting between us, taking up most of the room in the truck. Are we ready to go there yet?

She considers what I said, her eyes wandering upward toward the night sky. “Do you still have that sex tape in here?”

What the hell? “Sex tape… I’ve never made a sex tape.” That’s a lie. I did once when I was eighteen and there was this girl who was really into some kinky shit. But Violet shouldn’t know about that nor do I want her to.

Her gaze lands on me, but it’s too dark to see her expression. “You’re totally lying to me right now—you’ve made one.” Her tone is light, curious. “You know, I’d like to say that I’m surprised but I’m not.”

I relax a little as her playfulness emerges. “Okay, I’m trying to decide whether I should be offended by that or not. Like you think I’m some kind of man-whore.” Which I am—was. Not anymore though.

“You don’t need to be offended,” she promises with a hint of amusement in her voice. “Besides, I’m sure it was an excellent tape.”

God, what I would give to see the expression on her face as she sits back in the seat, tucking her legs under her, her thighs barely covered as her dress rides up and makes me want to slide over and finish what we started back in Geraldson’s bathroom.

Now is not the time to get a hard on.

“And besides, I wasn’t talking about an actual sex tape,” Violet continues. “But that music tape I found in here once that was labeled f**k me or something like that.”

Hearing her say f**k me makes my dick go rock hard. But there’s no trust between us anymore, no basis for her to want me to touch her, no nothing except my longing to get through her impenetrable wall so all it’s going to get me is a severe case of blue balls.

I try to discretely adjust myself. “Oh, I think it’s still under the seat from…” From when you were with me and we were in this very truck, heading out on our very first date. My chest tightens, air constricting, and all I want to do is drink until I can no longer feel my body.

Violet leans forward, lowering her head toward the floor as she reaches under the seat. She rummages around until she finds the tape. “Yep, right were you threw it.” She sits up and reads the label. “My Fuck Tape.” She turns it over in her hand, a smile tugging at her lips. “It’s funny you actually have tapes. Hardly anyone knows what they are anymore.”

“The truck came with a tape player and I’m too cheap to put a new stereo in,” I explain. “Maybe one day though, I’ll change it out.”

She shakes her head as she feeds the tape into the deck. “Don’t. It gives the truck character.” She presses play then sits back, waiting for the song to come on. For the life of me, I can’t remember what the hell’s on there.

Seconds later, I cringe as the first song thumps through the speakers. Violet instantly suppresses her laughter as she covers her mouth with her hand. She stays that way, listening to the lyrics until finally she lowers her hand. “So… is that what you call your special man part?” she asks, choking back her laughter as she slaps her hand over her mouth again.

I shake my head at her and playfully reach over and give her a little shove, knowing I’m being flirty right now, but hey, she started it. “Even if I did have a name for my cock, trust me it’d be a lot better than that.”