Page 26 of She Was Made for Me

Her eyes won’t meet mine. “I could ask you the same thing.”

I sigh, looking down at my hands. The truth is, I didn’t feel like going back to Rich and Diana’s place tonight. I didn’t feel like smiling and making polite conversation with my friends, knowing the things I’ve been thinking about their daughter. Every time Rich asks me how Violet’s doing, I choose my words carefully, in case they give me away, and then I feel like a complete dirtbag. What kind of asshole gets a crush on his best friend’s daughter?

“It was a pain having to drive all the way back to Manhattan in traffic every night,” I mumble. “I’m crashing here, upstairs. I used to do it on job sites back home all the time.” At least it’s not a lie.

Violet is quiet for a beat, then says, “My friend’s boyfriend moved into her tiny apartment and I wanted to give them space.”

I glance up to see her nose scrunched in disgust, and curiosity gets the better of me. “You don’t like him?”

“It’s not that. He’s alright. It’s just…” Her cheeks color slightly and she focuses intently on pressing the washcloth to the spot on my cheekbone, which is now nothing more than a dull ache. “I walked in on them having sex this afternoon on the living room floor. It was awkward.”

I huff a laugh, dropping my head to hide my gaze under the brim of my cap. “Yeah. That would be awkward.” Before I can stop myself, I’m wondering when she last had sex—must have been more recently than me, that’s for sure—and if she’s the kind of woman who likes casual sex or prefers relationships. Rich has never mentioned anything about her having a boyfriend, and that makes sense when I think of how dedicated she is to her work. She probably doesn’t have time.

Which is a shame. She’s young and beautiful and full of life. Any man would be lucky to have her.

Violet places a hand under my chin, gently guiding my head up so she can examine the damage. My breathing is a little off as she studies me, and I hope to God she can’t read my thoughts on my face.

“It’s not too bad.” She brushes the pad of her thumb softly across my cheek. It sends a shiver through me, which I pray she doesn’t notice. “But you’ll probably have a bruise. Sorry.”

I swallow. There’s something about the tender way she’s caring for me that cracks my chest open, just a little. It’s been a long time since a woman has shown me this kind of care—and it’s the last thing I deserve after the way I’ve acted around her.

Her gaze lingers on my face, as though she’s searching for answers to a question she hasn’t asked. She’s close enough for me to smell her; a sweet vanilla scent that makes my mouth water. Her hand still rests on my cheek, and my pulse accelerates as she strokes her thumb across my skin again. I try to keep my expression neutral, but I must not do a very good job because her breath catches and heat flares in her eyes.

Shit. I have to stop this.

I lean back in the chair, away from her touch, trying to be nonchalant. “You have good taste in music.”

She tugs her gaze to the washcloth in her hand, breathing out hard. “You know Rogue Valley?” she asks in a tight voice. When I give a casual nod, she relaxes. “My friend Sadie introduced me to them ages ago. They’re my favorite.”

“Mine too.” I’ve liked them for years, but I don’t know anyone else who’s familiar with them. I’m guessing it’s the same for her, because her face lights with a surprised smile. It’s the kind that makes me want to pull her close and press my mouth to hers.

Instead, I rise from the chair and grab her phone from the floor, desperate for a moment to collect myself. I inspect it for damage before handing it back to her.

“Why did you throw your phone at me, anyway? If I was an intruder, you would have wanted to call the cops.”

She laughs quietly. “Yeah. You’re probably right. It was a reflex.”

I stand with my hands on my hips, letting my gaze drift around the makeshift bedroom she’s created down here. I hate the thought of her sleeping somewhere like this.

“You could stay in the guest room at your folks’ place, since I’m staying here. You’d be more comfortable there.”

“No.” She shifts her weight. “Thanks, but I don’t want to move back in with my parents. It’s bad enough that I’ve taken a job from my father. Besides”—she glances around with a shrug— “it’s fine here. I don’t have to take two trains back and forth each day, and I can keep an eye on the project.”

I have to admire her determination to be independent. I’m sure plenty of kids her age would eagerly accept help from their parents without a second thought.

I remove my cap to run a hand through my hair, thinking. It would make sense for me to leave, because I’m not sure I’ll be able to sleep knowing she’s in bed only a few floors away from me. I don’t need that kind of temptation.

But when I think about her sleeping here alone, at an empty job site… I frown at the thought. I can’t leave. I need to make sure she’s safe.

Violet’s eyes narrow, misreading my expression. “I’m not leaving,” she says firmly. “And I’m not only talking about living here.”

I pull my cap back on. “What?”

“I know you don’t want me working on this project. You think I don’t know what I’m doing and I’m getting in the way, but—”

“That’s not true at all,” I say, surprised.

“You told me as much, Kyle. I’m not stupid.”

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