Page 12 of Twisted Violet (Lovesick Villains #4)

ELEVEN

VIOLET

The scallions hiss as they hit the pan and the scent of garlic permeates through the air.

I toss the noodles again and am just about to reach for the sesame oil when my phone buzzes on the counter beside me.

It’s a video call from Stevie.

She’s been doing that a lot lately, now that she has her voice back. I guess the weeks of forced silence turned her into a yapper.

Killing the burner; I wipe my hands on a towel, prop my phone against the paper towel holder, and answer the call.

Stevie’s face fills my screen, glowing with that soft, hospital-grade lighting.

“Hey,” I say, smiling into the camera. “You look better.”

“I look like a stitched-up scarecrow,” she says dryly.

“Yeah. But like, a hot one.”

Her lips twitch, and she leans back against her pillows with a sigh. Her throat bandages are freshly changed; I can see them peeking out beneath the edge of her sweatshirt collar.

Behind me, the apartment is quiet. Rome and Niko are still out, and Dallas just left to take Ollie out for a walk before dinner.

I shift my camera toward the stove. “Look, I’m making stir-fry. ”

Stevie squints and cocks her head. “You’re cooking for them?”

I pick up the suspicion in her tone immediately.

“It’s therapeutic,” I say, tossing the wok one more time. “I get to control everything. The temperature. The flavor. How much garlic goes in.”

She smiles. “You always go overboard with the garlic.”

I roll my eyes. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

She watches me for a moment, expression unreadable. “You’re… doing okay?”

I nod. “Yup, never been better.”

It’s not a lie. I am feeling better than I have in a while, but after everything I’ve endured, I don’t know if I’ll ever be fully okay.

Before she can press any further, the elevator doors open. I glance up to see Rome stride in, loose hoodie slung over his frame, a drink carrier in one hand and a bakery bag in the other.

Without a word, he sets the milk tea down in front of me.

Strawberry jasmine.

“My favorite.” I say, smiling up at him. “How’d you know?”

Rome shrugs. “You only order it every time.”

“I’m not that predictable.”

He arches a brow. “You’re a creature of annoying habits.”

I swat at him. “Rude.”

He catches my hand midair, smirking. “Honest. And you love it.”

“I tolerate it.”

Rome notices my phone.

His smirk falters. “ Is that Stevie?”

I grin and tilt the camera towards him. “Say hi.”

Stevie’s eyes narrow into tiny slits. “Rome.”

He gives a single chin lift. “Hey, Stevie.”

Stevie blinks like she’s trying to unsee something. “You bought my sister milk tea?”

He nods. “She’s nicer when she has sugar.”

“Uh-huh.”

There’s a pause, not a long one, but enough for me to feel the tension between them.

Rome turns back to me. “I’ll let you two catch up.”

“Thanks.” I say, reaching up to kiss his cheek.

It’s quick, light, more instinct than anything else, but it still stuns him.

I feel his body go rigid. His gaze catches mine, sharp and unguarded for a heartbeat, before he clears his throat and steps back like I just brandished a weapon.

He opens his mouth as if to say something, then closes it again.

“I, uh…” He gestures over his shoulder. “Forgot to put the other stuff in the fridge.”

“Rome,” I say, eyeing him cautiously, “Is everything good?”

I expect him to laugh. Or shrug. Or do anything, really. But he just backs away like I burned him.

“It’s fine,” he says, and disappears down the hall.

I glance at my screen.

Stevie hasn’t moved. She’s staring at me with her head tilted and her brow furrowed, like she’s trying to solve a complex math problem.

“You kissed him,” she says.

I blink. “On the cheek. It was a thank-you kiss.”

Though I can’t remember the last time I could get that close to someone without flinching .

“Sure.” She sits up straighter in her hospital bed, the movement stiff but precise. “That’s what it looked like.”

I stay quiet.

She doesn’t.

“I told you to be careful.”

“I am,” I say, even though I’m not sure it’s true.

Stevie sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose. Her jaw is tense. “Look, I know you’re grateful they were there when you needed them. I get it. But you’re still healing, Alex. You’re vulnerable. And they -”

I flinch.

Alex. That name doesn’t belong to me anymore. It hasn’t for a while now, but I still let her use it. She already lost the old me; I didn’t want her to lose anything else.

“They’re my friends.” I say a little sharper than I mean to. “They’ve been nothing but good to me.”

She shakes her head. “That’s not the point.”

“Then what is?”

Stevie’s eyes flick to something off screen. She takes a second too long to respond, and when she does, her voice is eerily calm.

“You shouldn’t blur the lines, Al. You’re there because you need a safe place to stay, not… whatever that was.”

I go quiet, because I don’t know what to say.

Whatever’s happening between me and Rome, me and all of them really, isn’t defined. It’s not clear, and maybe she’s right. Maybe blurring the lines is a bad idea.

But also… what if it isn’t?

“I just think,” Stevie adds carefully, “you should be careful. At least until you’re back home and your head’s clear.”

“Why?” I ask, voice smaller than I mean it to be.

Her face softens. “Because you’ve already been hurt enough. You don’t need more heartbreak on top of everything else.”

I nod slowly.

Not because I fully agree with her, but because I don’t know what else to do.

“I’ve got to go,” she says, glancing somewhere off screen. “My nurse is here. Promise me you’ll keep things simple with them. Just for now?”

I hesitate. “Okay.”

She nods and ends the call.

The screen goes dark.

I sit in silence for a long moment, listening to the faint tap of rain against the windows.

Rome’s milk tea is still sitting untouched beside me.

I pick it up, take one sip, and quietly wonder if she’s right.

If I let them get any closer…

Will I only end up hurting in the end?