“Violet,” I reply, surprising myself at how soft the introduction sounds. The name falls between us, warm and unguarded.
He offers a dimpled smile. “Nice to meet you, Violet.” He gestures toward the dance floor. “Care to dance?”
I glance at my now full beer, then at his earnest expression, and stand. I keep the beer close, I’ve heard of the spiking that can happen in these parts. We move into the crowd, bodies swaying in time to the beat. There’s nothing invasive about his touch—just a respectful guiding hand at my waist, a steady rhythm that matches my heartbeat. For a while, it’s easy to forget everything else; Travis’s unexpected visit, Reagan’s excited chatter, the weight of nostalgia settled in my chest.
One drink turns into two. Laughter bubbles up between us, spontaneous and bright. Before I know it, we’re tangled in a corner booth, kissing softly. It isn’t planned; it’s the collision of loneliness and longing, the desire to feel something new when the past has just knocked on my door again.
My peace doesn’t last long, without warning the booth shakes as someone grabs Josh roughly and hurls him right out of the chair and onto a nearby pool table. My heart lurches. Travis isthere, all six foot of him, holding Josh against the table as if he weighs nothing. His eyes are wild with frustration and jealousy, something I never thought I’d see on him.
Not when it came to me, anyway.
“Travis!” I holler, rushing forward and taking his arm, pulling him with all my might.
He releases Josh, but the expression on his face is one of pure rage. His jaw is clenched so tight I can see the tension in his neck. “What’s wrong with you? Do you even know this guy?” he hisses.
“I just met him,” I snap. “Not that it’s any of your business.”
He opens his mouth to say something, but a woman suddenly squeals his name and before I know it, he’s surrounded. Hurt by his actions, I quickly back out of the bar, Reagan following behind me. I don’t even look back at Josh.
Poor guy.
I am raging footsteps and curses all the way home, to which Reagan follows, agreeing with my every curse in Travis’s direction.
“He really is so over the top when it comes to you,” she puffs, keeping up with me.
“He has no right. No right,” I seethe. “He disappeared. He left me alone. Now he thinks he can come back and what, just tell me who I can and cannot talk to?”
By the time we reach Chief’s house, I’m panting, adrenaline crackling through my veins. Reagan flops onto the porch swing, exhaling, a light coating of sweat on her face. “That was intense,” she whispers, her eyes shining with amusement.
I lean against the railing, trying to calm my racing heart. The front door bursts open and Chief comes out, staring at us and crossing his arms. “Heard you two caused a scene at the bar.”
I snort. “No,Traviscaused a scene at the bar. We were enjoying our night.”
“Not what I heard. Heard you were makin’ out with some guy.”
“And?” I say, throwing my hands up. “I’m an adult.”
"In my house—" his voice deepens, but I cut him off.
"This isn't about your house. Travis started a fight in a public place and you're acting like I'm the problem." The alcohol makes my words sharper than intended. “I can do whatever the hell I want, and I sure as hell don’t need to listen to what he wants.”
Chief's jaw tightens. "You were making out with a stranger."
"Yes, as I said, and?”
Chief exhales slowly. "Just get some sleep. We'll talk when you're sober."
I shrug. “Fine.”
Reagan takes my hand and we disappear up to my room, closing the door and collapsing on the bed before breaking out into a fit of giggles.
“Your dad is so intense!” she laughs.
“Yep, he still thinks I’m seventeen. He forgets I can make out with men now, without his judgment.”
“The horror,” she gasps, pressing her hands to her face. “Anyway, tell me, who was the mystery guy—Jake? Josh?"
"Josh," I say, remembering his dimpled smile. "He was kind of cute, and a good kisser.”