She patted my hand. Like I was sad or something. Whatever.

“Go on. Finish it. If I know you, you researched the shit out of it.”

She nodded. “Her parents were wealthy philanthropists. Apparently, their name is like gold in New York; everyone loved them and they were a pretty big deal in the social scene. After the crash, she had quite a bit of notoriety going on for a while, lots of papers wanting her story.”

Mila straightened her headband and sent a look over my shoulder. “Here they come. Act nice because I happen to like her a lot.”

Nice wasn’t happening. I could tell by the way my leg was bouncing under the table. I was still angry—or hurt—or something.

V slid in next to me while Geoff pulled up a chair at the end of the table. The waitress brought us refills and they chatted. I sat back with my leg deliberately pressed against V’s, heat firing off in my body at the proximity of her skin.

Mila and Geoff seemed to hit it off right away—birds of a feather—and got into a discussion about mutual society people they knew in Dallas. Spider zoned out by checking his phone, a petulant look on his face as he watched Mila and Geoff’s heads together.

V and I just sat there.

Next to each other.

Neither of us looking at the other.

Both of us on a razor’s edge.

I looked at Geoff. He wore jeans but still managed to look like a Wall Street man with his short hair and a thick sweater across his shoulders. Didn’t he know it was June in LA? Then I saw the smudge of lipstick on his lips, a trace of pink, and my gut clenched. They’d been kissing.

My phone buzzed and I checked it, hoping it was Harry with good news.

It wasn’t.

Violet: About last night, I’m sorry I lied. Truth is, I was surprised to see you. I didn’t know what to say.

I tapped out my reply: Meet me in the bathroom. I’ll tell you what I really think and then you can make it up to me.

I looked up as I sent it.

She read my text, her fingers over her phone, the pulse in her neck kicking up.

I sent another: Did you like it when we made out at Masquerade? You know, I can do a whole lot better with more space, more time, and less of your pansy boyfriend.

She tapped out: Go fuck yourself.

She was angry too, and part of me got turned on. Here’s the weird part—I’d been an easy going guy most of my life, but with her, I didn’t even recognize who I’d become. Combustible and wired to the teeth, our connection was like a bomb about to explode. She was a grenade, and I wanted to pull her pin so bad I could taste it.

Fucking would be better with you, I sent back.

I waited for a reply but nothing came, so I glanced up to see Geoff playing with V’s hair, his fingers idly twisting the strands. My eyes flared, my chest heaved, and I cracked. It became crystal clear—he’d come here to get her back.

And I didn’t want to let her go.

I tore my eyes off of them and wrote to her: Did you fuck him? My heart pounded as I hit send. Please say no.

She replied: I saw Blair leaving your house this morning. Nice little walk of shame there. Or maybe, I should call it her “I Got Laid Parade.”

Dammit!

I tapped out: Truth: she came over. Truth: nothing happened. It was YOU I wanted.

She wrote: If it was ME you wanted, then why did you leave Masquerade with her?

I replied: What else do you want? Blood? Pictures of us are already splattered all over the internet.

She immediately set down her phone, a worried frown on her face.

Geoff had been talking to Mila, but stopped. “You okay, Violet?”

She looked at me. “How bad is it?”

“What’s going on?” Geoff asked us, eyes darting from me to her.

Every ounce of my anger vanished. It had never been about her specifically anyway. “It’s just some photos. I’ve got it covered. Please, don’t worry, V. I’ll make sure they don’t bother you.”

She gripped the menu. “Okay.”

“Did you want to order something to eat, Violet?” Geoff asked, putting his hand on her arm.

I sucked in a breath. “Why don’t you call her V like everyone else?” I ground out.

“Her name is Violet.” He tapped his spoon on his coffee cup.

I crossed my arms. “I call her V or Violin Girl, but then that was when I was just watching her through my binoculars.”

Even Spider, whom nothing fazed, tensed as he adjusted his muffin in different angles and sent me hard looks. I got his message. Chill out.

But I couldn’t. I wanted to pound on Geoff.

“Her name is Violet St. Lyons, and her family name goes back to the Mayflower, if you care,” he told me, studying his fingernails like I was beneath him. “I don’t think the police will take kindly to you spying on her, either.”

All eyes swiveled to me.

“She could have called the cops. She likes me looking at her.”

He snorted. “Please. I doubt that. She’s classier than that.”

“Me watching her is our thing, but I’ll spare you the details.” I glared at the lipstick on his mouth.

One corner of his lip quirked. “You remind me of a kid who lost his sucker and cries about it, Mr. Tate. I’m sorry you showed up last night and got your eyes opened.”

V let out a gasp. “Geoff, stop. There’s nothing going on—”

“She’s mine,” I growled at him. Mila was right. I was a Neanderthal. And I fucking embraced it.

“She’s been in my bed. Has she been in yours?” He smiled.

I reared back, almost as if he’d slapped me and I’d taken a stumble.

“Geoff! This is ridiculous. You’re both acting like children,” V hissed.

But all I could focus on was Geoff.

I forced my tense shoulders in a nonchalant shrug and smiled tightly, my hands clenched under the table. “She may not have been in my bed, but she’s an incredible musician, Geoff. But the best thing is when she plays nude just for me. Her music is superb, but put it with her hot body and the way she moves—” I groaned and bit my lower lip “—it takes me to heaven, man.”

Dead silence and then, “She plays naked?” Spider hissed and elbowed me.

V jerked up out of her chair and gave me a disbelieving headshake. Her face had flushed a deep scarlet.

I flinched at the betrayal in her eyes. “Wait.” I stood as well, not caring that we had the attention of half the coffee place. “V—shit—that was low. I wanted him to know how things are between us …” I came to an abrupt halt when she turned her face away. I’d sounded needy and insecure anyway. What was she doing to me?