Page 74 of Wallflower
“Okay!” Izzy shouts. “The second Davenport Family Game Night is now in session! On your marks!”
On the other side of the room, Violet starts nibbling on her lip, and her hands are wedged between her thighs the way she does when she’s nervous.
You okay?I mouth.
Her legs stop bouncing, and Violet gives me a subtle nod. An even tinier smile.Yep.
As Izzy thrusts the rule book in Violet’s hands and she bends her head to read, I dig one elbow into Finn on my left, the other into Dylan on my right. They respond with affronted grunts before they both assault my ribs at the same time. I don’t give them the satisfaction of acknowledging it.
“What the hell, bro?” Dylan asks.
“That’s Violet,” I say with a nod in her direction.
“Ah.” Finn nods and takes a slug of his beer. “That’sViolet. I thought she a figment of your imagination. She’s pretty.”
“She’s fucking perfect,” I correct him.
Violet must sense that we’re looking at her, talking about her. She raises her eyes without lifting her chin, checking us out from beneath her long dark lashes.
“Say hi,” I order under my breath.
“Hey, Violet.” Finn waves with a polite smile. “Nice to meet you. I’m Finn—Chord’s younger, fitter brother.”
“Fuck off,” I mutter, and he snickers.
“Hi, Finn,” she replies with pink cheeks, a shy smile, and a voice that just carries the eight feet between us. “Nice to meet you too.”
I nudge Dylan and practically hear him roll his eyes. “Glad you could be here, Violet. I’m Dylan—Chord’s younger, cuter brother.”
“Jesus Christ,” I mumble.
“Hi, Dylan,” Violet replies. “Um, your food is excellent.”
Dylan gives me a smug look. “You hear that, bro? Apparently, I’m younger, cuter, and more talented too.”
“Go find a mirror, would you?” I say with a good-natured shove.
Violet chuckles, and I give her a wink that heightens the color in her cheeks. I hope she’s thinking the same things I am. This feels good. Natural. Easy. Right.
The sound of the front door crashing open and slamming shut reverberates down the hallway moments before tiny, redheaded Poppy bursts into the living room.
“I’m here! I’m here!” Poppy squeezes onto the sofa between Daisy and Violet, then circles her hand at Izzy, who has her fist raised and ready to toss the dice. “Go ahead. Don’t mind me.”
Beside me, Dylan chokes on his beer. I smack him on the back as he forces it down with watering eyes.
“Jesus.” He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and keeps his voice low. “Where the hell did she come from?”
I watch Izzy roll the dice and move the marker four places on the board as I answer Dylan’s question. “She’s been back in town for a couple of weeks. Didn’t Daisy tell you?”
Dylan makes a sound in his throat. “Ah, no.”
Finn hides a chuckle behind his hand. “This should be good.”
I’m a dick for laughing, but I can’t help it. Daisy and Poppy made Dylan’s life hell growing up. He’s only two years older and was always picking them up when they got drunk at parties, covering for them when they cut school, saving their asses when they got into fights, and swooping in when they wanted to get rid of ex-boyfriends or guys they weren’t interested in. In return, they acted like typical teenage girls. They basically tormented him.
“It’s been a long time,” I tell him. “I don’t think you’ll be called up for big brother duty any time soon.”
On the other side of the room, Poppy notices us looking her way, and she wiggles her fingers at Dylan with a pretty, devilish grin.
