She laughs. "You also have fame and fortune."
He smiles. "Glad you noticed."
"I've known Tom for longer than I've known you," she says.
"Are you telling me he's already won your favor?" Joel mocks outrage.
She laughs. "My favor is still unassigned."
"Will it help my case if I compliment your tits?" Joel asks.
"Can't hurt." Her eyes find mine. There's something in them—an invitation.
Every part of me—one in particular—wants to take that invitation.
But there's something else in her eyes. She's nervous.
I'm not doing anything that scares her off.
"Grab four cups and something you'd like to drink," Joel says. "Let's play Never Have I Ever."
Violet raises a brow. "Why?"
"It's fun." Joel motions for her to come here. "You know Tom's married?"
"I know that. I also know that you're a slut. Or did you stop sleeping with a different woman every night?"
"Please. It's every other night. I need time to play the drums," he says.
"I'm glad you have your priorities in order." She grabs a bottle of vodka and four cups.
"Not that rubbing alcohol shit." Joel sticks his tongue out in distaste.
"You said what I like." Violet comes closer. She sets the bottle, and four cups, on the ground and sits cross-legged behind it. "You should have been more specific."
Joel pushes off the couch to sit cross-legged next to Violet. He nudges me then motions to the empty spot on Violet's other side. "And I'm sure Violet's got enough dirt on Ethan to kill it."
The guy's already getting in my way. But I'm not about to waste this opportunity— Violet is smiling. There's no tension in her expression. Her shoulders are relaxed. Fuck, the way her top is falling off her shoulder, revealing her red bra, is making it difficult to concentrate.
She must have worn that on purpose.
To get my attention.
Maybe she told herself she wore it to get me panting with desire then leave me high and dry.
She still wore it for me.
Again, Violet's eyes catch mine. She smiles. It's a yeah, we'll be friends kind of smile.
But the way her eyes fix on the low v of my v-neck—there's nothing platonic about that.
She turns to Joel. "I'm too old to do shots. Besides, you'll die of alcohol poisoning if you take a shot every time somebody calls out something you've done."
He laughs. "Fair. How about we play the old-fashioned way? Ten fingers."
"Maybe you should take your shoes off, so you get ten toes too," Violet teases. "That might make the playing field even."
Kit chuckles.