Page 31 of Twisted Violet (Lovesick Villains #4)

THIRTY

DALLAS

I told myself I’d leave her alone. That it was better to give her space. But here I am, knocking on her door anyway.

Her room is quiet when I enter, lit by soft light pouring in through the window.

She’s curled up in the corner of her bed, legs tucked beneath her, a book resting open in her lap.

One of my hoodies hangs off her shoulders, sleeves bunched at her wrists, and her long lavender hair is tied up in a lazy knot plopped on the top of her head.

Ollie lifts his head from the floor and blinks at me with that calm, knowing gaze.

He doesn’t trot towards me, like he normally does.

He just lies there, silently judging me from his spot at her feet.

“Hey Stranger,” I say.

She doesn’t look up. “You knock now? That’s new.”

“Trying to be polite,” I answer, stepping further in. “Didn’t know if you were busy. ”

She doesn’t tell me to leave, but she doesn’t invite me to stay either. So I move to the edge of the bed and sit, careful not to jostle her space. The mattress dips under my weight, but she doesn’t acknowledge it, just flips a page like I’m not even here.

“You okay?”

“Yeah. Of course.” Her reply is too fast, too smooth.

Her fingers tighten around the book’s spine, and she releases a gentle sigh.

I lean forward, elbows on my knees, trying to figure out a way to reach her. “Hey, so I was thinking. You know that weirdly sad movie we watched last week? The one about the pop stars who fight demons?”

Her lips twitch. Almost . “That isn't a sad movie, Dallas.”

I grin. “You cried.”

She glances at me. “So did you.”

There it is. A flicker of the girl I know. The one I’ve missed like hell for the last couple of days.

My heart thuds like it’s happy to get a glimpse of her too.

"Anyway, I was wondering if you wanted to do a rewatch with me?”

V shakes her head without looking at me. "Not now, maybe later."

I shift closer, reach out, and brush my fingers against her knee. Her gaze drops to the spot where my skin touches hers, but she doesn’t move.

“Where are you?” I murmur.

She stiffens. “I’m right here.”

I give her a sad smile. “No, you’re not.”

The silence that follows feels like it’s pressing against my ribs. I move my hand up to gently cup the side of her face.

She meets my eyes, and for one second, she leans into my touch.

I inch towards her. Close enough to smell the faint scent of vanilla clinging to her skin. Close enough to remember how her lips felt against mine the night I almost lost Ollie. Desperate, warm, and real. Like she needed me just as much as I needed her.

My chest aches with the memory.

I swallow and lean in for a kiss.

But when I’m a breath away, she turns her head and my lips graze her cheek instead.

It’s not a full-blown rejection, but it sure as hell feels like it.

She pulls away and smiles like she didn’t just rip my soul out. “I should finish this chapter.”

Ollie lifts his head slightly, ears twitching. Watching me like he knows I just lost something.

I lean back and don’t say anything. Because what’s there to say?

I don’t need her to kiss me. I don’t even need her to want me back. I just need her. And despite her being right here, smiling at me like everything’s fine, I can’t shake the feeling that she’s already gone.

I shut her door behind me quietly and I rub a hand over my face.

What the fuck was I thinking?

I knew something was off with her, knew something was wrong the minute she gave me that fake smile in the kitchen a few days ago. And instead of slowing down, asking, and listening. I did what I always do. Tried to fix it with charm. With touch. With heat. Used that instead of my words.

Because deep down, I still think that’s all I’m good for. A distraction. Something easy and shallow. Something that feels like comfort even when it’s not.

I thought maybe if I could make her feel wanted, it would help, but all I did was make her pull away. And that smile she gave me before I left… that wasn’t relief. It was resignation. The kind people wear when they’re tired of pretending everything’s okay.

I thought I was fixing shit between us, but I think I just made it worse.

I pace down the hall, not really thinking about where I’m going until I hit the elevator. I need to move. Do something. Let my body burn so my head can shut up for a while.

I make it to the gym and push the door open.

The place is empty, but the lights are on, and the scent of rubber mats, steel plates, and disinfectant clings in the air.

I toss my hoodie on the bench and grab the nearest barbell, rolling my shoulders back like that’ll shake off the ache crawling under my skin.

I don’t warm up. I don’t stretch. I just load the bar, lie back, and press until my arms are screaming. Until the regret in my chest gets drowned out by something physical.

The door opens halfway through my third set.

Niko walks in, shirtless, silent, rolling his neck like he has a lifetime of tension in his shoulders. He doesn’t say anything, just nods at me once and starts setting up at the cable machine.

A minute later, Rome slips in too. He heads for the treadmill without a word, pulls his hood up, and starts running.

I drop the bar with a sharp exhale, sit up, and wipe my hands on my shorts.

“She’s not talking to me anymore,” Niko mutters finally.

I grab a towel and pat my brow. “Same. ”

He exhales through his nose. “She won’t even look me in the eye.”

“She does with me,” I say. “But it’s not the same.”

Niko grunts. “She smile at you?”

I hesitate. “Yeah. But not the genuine kind. It’s polite, like she’s trying to prove she’s fine.”

“But she’s not,” he says.

“No. She isn’t.”

Niko paces a bit, dragging a hand through his hair. “She was opening up again. I could feel it. And now? Nothing.”

“Something changed,” I say. “I just don’t know what.”

“You think something happened with Stevie?”

I’m about to answer when the treadmill slows down behind us. Rome hops off and pulls back his hood. “She was awake that night.”

Niko and I both turn.

“What?” I ask.

Rome keeps his voice flat. “The night Stevie came by. I didn’t see her, but I know she was awake.”

Niko narrows his eyes. “How?”

Rome exhales slowly. “Because when I left, she was in my bed, and when I came back, she was gone.”

The silence is instant.

Niko’s arms fall to his sides, his brow pinched. Not angry, just processing.

My hand tightens around the edge of the bench.

“She stayed with you that night?” I ask, quieter than I mean to.

Rome nods once and swallows hard.

There’s no tension. No ego. Just the quiet ache of us all realizing we’re not the only ones she matters to.

After a beat, Niko looks at him. “So you think she heard us. ”

“I think she heard something,” Rome says. “Maybe not the whole thing, but enough.”

I nod my head. “If she thinks we were only ever here for her because we were hired… then yeah. Of course she’s shutting down.”

No one says anything, because there’s nothing left to say.

She let us in, and we gave her every fucking reason to regret it.