The Probability of Violet & Luke (The Coincidence #4)(25)
Author: Jessica Sorensen

“Ryler,” he shouts at one of the guys over the music then walks over to an iPod in a dock and turns it off. “Your cousin Luke’s here.” He points a finger at Violet and me.

A guy around my age glances up from his cards and then takes a sip of his drink. He looks just as intense as when I saw him almost two years ago. Jeans with holes in them, eyebrow and lip piercings, a sleeve of skulls and crosses on his arms. His hair is jet black and it looks like he’s wearing black eyeliner, but I don’t think he is—his eyes just look that way. And he’s wearing an I’ve-been-through-tough-shit expression.

He gives me a chin nod before his gaze drifts to Violet then he turns to his uncle and signs something.

“Is he deaf?” Violet asks in a low voice as she steps up beside me.

I shake my head as Ryler glances over at Violet, clearly hearing her, and my uncle chimes in. “No, he just can’t speak,” he tells Violet. “But his hearing works just fine.”

Violet doesn’t ask questions, which isn’t surprising, but what she does next shocks the shit out of me. She lifts up her hand and makes these movements with her hand, clearly signing something to Ryler.

This makes him smile, the darkness in his expression briefly lights up as he signs something back, causing Violet to laugh softly then shrug.

“I don’t know everything,” she says to him. “But some.”

I want to ask her how she knows sign language but Violet has had a very different upbringing from most, living with God knows how many families so I’m guessing she picked it up somewhere along the line. What I don’t like though is how Ryler is looking at Violet, like how I used to look at women when they showed up at games, with the intention of getting them on my lap and getting inside them later.

“This is Violet,” I say, not even sure if they made introduction already. I casually put my hand on her back, hoping she doesn’t shove me away, so uncomfortable in my own skin it’s making me fidgety. I want to add, ‘my girlfriend,” but that would probably result in me getting kicked in the balls from Violet.

“It’s nice to meet you, Ryler,” Violet says and I relax at the lack of interest in her tone. She’s just being friendly.

Ryler signs something to his dad and my uncle replies, “Actually we’re going to take Luke down to The Warehouse tonight.” He goes over to the fridge, gets three beers out, and offers Violet and I one.

I oblige because I’m never one to turn down a drink, but I’m shocked when Violet takes the drink she’s offered. She was also drinking at Geraldson’s and it has be worried that maybe she’s starting to get into the habit, but mentioning it would be like the pot calling the kettle black, so I keep my lips shut, wondering how long the avoidance between us can go on.

Violet

His cousin Ryler was totally eye f**king me in the kitchen but I have no interest in him. The guy’s hot and everything, in a gothic kind of way. Tattoos covering his arms, piercings, black hair that hangs in his eyes, and his eyelashes are so thick it almost looks like he’s wearing eyeliner. But the last thing I need is some random hookup where I feel like crap afterward. Not to mention the drama that would come between Luke and I. And I hate soap opera drama.

Then I found out he’s mute and I couldn’t help myself. As much as I love keeping my past to myself, I couldn’t help but use what little sign language I picked up when I stayed with one of the somewhat normal families who had a son that was deaf. During the four months that I stayed with him, he taught me a little bit when we were hanging out and I still remember pretty much all of it.

After introductions, Luke’s uncle takes us up to a guest bedroom, which of course only has one queen size bed, because destiny’s been on such a roll lately. Then Cole leaves us to get settled, shutting the door behind him.

As I’m trying to figure out the sleeping arrangement and if I even care, Luke turns to me with his hands stuffed in the pockets of his jeans. “So… where did you learn how to sign?” he asks.

I shrug. “One of my foster families had a little boy that was deaf.” I drop my bag on the bed. “He taught me a little bit.”

“Why did you leave the family?” As soon as he says it, it looks like he bites down on his tongue. “Never mind. You don’t have to answer that.”

I don’t want to either, but I find myself doing so anyway, proving once again how comfortable I am with Luke. “He got sick… the little boy and with the hospital visits and medical bills, there just wasn’t room for a fourteen year-old girl who had a lot of emotional baggage.”

Now he looks like he’s really biting down on his tongue, so hard it’s probably bleeding. “I’m so sorry, Violet.”

I shrug it off, pretending to search my bag for something to avoid looking at him, afraid he might just see how full of shit I am. “It’s okay. It was a long time ago… and I’ve moved on.” I hold my breath, feeling him move up behind me, as if he wants to touch me or hug me better, but I can’t do that with him right now. Fooling around is one thing, but hugging is way too emotionally driven. “So there’s only one bed.”

“I’ll sleep on the floor.” Luke puts his bag onto the floor and releases a deafening breath before finishing off his beer and throwing the empty bottle away. “Sorry about this—about everything.”

“You don’t need to apologize,” I say, setting my half drank beer down on the dresser then bending down to unzip my bag and get the battery I bought for my phone out. “I pretty much forced you to let me come with you.” I don’t bother noting the other sorry he was throwing out there. It feels wrong for him to say sorry for something that was out of his hands. What his mother did wasn’t his fault and one day I hope I can fully tell him that.

“There was no forcing. Trust me. I wanted you to come with me more than I should of,” he says, sinking down on the bed, his head falling forward into his hands. “Because I’m selfish.”

“You’re not selfish.” I stand back up and open the package the battery came in. I take it out and put it in my phone, crossing my fingers it’ll work. “You’re anything but.”

He elevates his head, his eyes blazing with so much intensity I almost shrink back. “How the hell do you figure that?”

I press down on the talk button, shrugging as I wait to see if my phone will boot up. “You gave me my space when I left… when I told you that I didn’t want to see you. You gave me what I asked for and that’s not selfish.”