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I set the towel aside then find myself doing something I always thought was cheesy as fuck.

I press a kiss to her knuckles, right where her skin is reddened, purple gathering beneath the surface.

Her breath hitches.

Fuck, and now I want to kiss her again.

TWENTY-THREE

Violet

His touch is gentle, the press of his lips on my knuckles barely there, but everything else about him is intense.

How close he is.

His scent in my nose, spicy and male and tempting.

His heat scalding me through his clothes, almost as if there aren’t any layers between us.

The way his deep brown eyes are like melted chocolate, tempting me to forget myself and dive headfirst into a magical Willy Wonka-esque river.

To dive and sink and forget.

And preferably do it with his hands on me and his lips on mine and his cock plunging⁠—

I shift a little closer because, for once, being sexually attracted to Ace is a welcome distraction.

“What is it, princess?” he asks softly, his fingers sliding through my hair, my bun completely ruined by the one-two punch of spa day plus Ambrose insanity.

“Nothing,” I lie.

Only that I’ve been battling a war of emotions and memories ever since I got persuaded to join a backyard game of football I had absolutely no business being part of.

No.

Ever since I agreed to be here, doing this with Ace in the first place.

It’s tearing through my armor, making me think about things that should have stayed buried. Worse, it’s making me talk about them.

And feeling…embarrassment and shame and hurt.

God, some of this still hurts so damned much.

No matter how fiercely I push it down.

I don’t think parents always get it, how deeply something they consider a throwaway statement can hurt. How words that are tossed so casually into the air can stick with their kid through days and months, years and decades.

Not even disappearing in death.

You were an accident.

An accident, a burden no one wanted. Left on my own, forced to always have it together. Because no one else would hold the pieces.

Get myself up and to school.

Better pay attention because no one would help with my homework. Learn to cook because no one would make sure I ate dinner. Get a job and pay for clothes I liked, otherwise it was cheap multipacks from big box stores or ill-fitting hand-me-downs from my brothers. Get used to doing everything alone because no one would care if I went to bed on time or had dinner or a lunch packed for school the next day. And certainly no one would chaperone my field trips or let me come along with the rest of the family on vacations or even celebrate my birthday.

No point in hoping for presents for Christmas or that the Tooth Fairy might make an appearance.