“Yeah, that’s what I’ve been hearing.”

“So, just so you know, if you hurt her—”

“You’ll kick my ass?”

Winnie stares me down until I clamp my lips shut and listen.

“Just so you know, if you hurt her, you’re hurting all of us. We’re friends, and we do this together.”

What the fuck does that mean? “Like, I have to date all three of you?”

She rolls her eyes. “Oh my god, no. I mean, Violet is our best friend. If you hurt her, we’re all going to be hurt. Her pain is our pain. Do you want to make all three of us hate you?”

“No.” I shake my head.

“Good, because Melinda and I will kick your ass if you do.”

I knew it, knew she was going to threaten to kick my ass!

“Uh…so…” I try glancing around her into the living room for any sign of Violet. “Can I come in?”

Her eyebrows rise. Chin tips up defiantly.

“Please Winnie, can I please come inside?” Jesus Christ, I cannot believe I’m begging to be let into a girl’s house, but desperation does some fucked up shit to a guy.

“Hold on a second. Let me check with Violet.” With another scowl, Winnie shuts the door in my face, disappears into the house.

A minute passes. Then another.

Then five.

Then ten, until I’m freezing my balls off.

Then.

The door finally opens, and Violet is standing on the opposite side of it, looking…

Like a breath of fucking fresh air, light shining from behind her, pale hair glowing ethereally. Long and wavy and I want to bury my fingers in it, breathe her in and sleep beside her.

Bare feet, jeans, and a faded yellow sweatshirt, Violet is the picture of light and sunlight and everything I’ve been missing for the past few days.

She unlatches the door.

Steps forward, pushing on the glass, so it opens all the way.

“I missed you.” That’s the first thing I say when she gives me room to step up into the house. I stop in front of her, gazing down into the hazel eyes that have been haunting my damn dreams for the past few days. “I really missed you.” My hands reach for her face, cupping her jaw, thumbs tracing her cheekbones.

“You smell good,” her pink lips reply.

“Oh yeah? Like what?” I lean forward so we’re close enough to kiss. So close I can taste it.

“Like…” She sniffs. “Shower and sweat. Strong.”

“I smell strong?”

“Yes.”

I bend, brushing my mouth across her lips. “I missed you so much.”

Somewhere from within the room, a feminine throat clears.

“Please go do that in her room.”

Winnie.

The plain girl with the death glowers.

Violet blushes, pulling on my wrists so my hands release her face. “S-sorry Win.”

“I do not want to hear you having sex,” her roommate makes a hmph sound. “Make him beg, Vi.”

“I will.”

Violet takes my hand, leading me through the living room to the hallway. To her bedroom door.

Leads me over the threshold.

I pause in the doorway, hesitating.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I’m just…looking.” The room isn’t what I pictured in my mind; I’d imagined something more flowery and froofy. Fussy with knickknacks and posters and shit. Like, unicorns and crap.

This room is nothing like that. One double bed with no headboard, there’s a light gray comforter pulled over the top. Three white pillows stacked, one on top of the other. White blinds on the windows for privacy, no curtains. A wooden desk that probably came off the curb at the end of the spring semester. Small desk lamp. Chair. School supplies neat and methodically arranged into rows. Above that, a corkboard with small, instant camera film. Several movie tickets stubs. A red ribbon—from what victory, I can’t tell from here.

On the far wall is a narrow rack with some shirts I recognize, pants folded neatly and stacked on top. I make a quick count of the four pair of shoes lining the bottom. One pair of boots.

It’s plain and simple, and bare.

Confused, my brow wrinkles. “Where’s all your stuff?”

Her face turns pink, but she laughs. “I don’t have any stuff. I’m an orphan, remember?”

Oh fuck. Shit.

“It’s okay, don’t feel bad.” She pats my arm, and I tense up from the contact. “It works because I drew the short straw; no closet, no clothes. I borrow a lot from Mel and Winnie.”

She bumps my hip, shooing me from the door so she can close us in. Locks the door.

I shrug out of my jacket, hanging it on the chair. “Where do you want me to sit?”

“On the chair I guess. I’ll take the bed.”

I straddle it, throwing a leg over each side. Rest my hands on the back, leaning forward. Violet is sitting cross-legged in the center of her bed, positive and pretty radiating off of her like sunlight.

“Winnie is a good little guard dog,” I begin, chagrined.

“I-Is she?” Violet demurs, studying her fingernails, peeking at me from under her lashes. “I hadn’t noticed.”

Smartass.

“Yeah. I was outside freezing my ass off for almost fifteen minutes before you came outside.”

If Violet is surprised by this news, she doesn’t show it. “She’s my people.”

My people. My friend. My family.