Page 4 of Twisted Violet (Lovesick Villains #4)
THREE
VIOLET
I wake up warm.
That’s the first thing that registers. I feel the heat of a body pressed against my back, and the weight of the thick comforter tucked tightly around me. But when I open my eyes, I’m all alone.
I sit up slowly, brushing the lavender tangles from my face, and scan the room. Dallas is gone. So is the plate of food he brought for me.
As if on cue, my stomach growls.
I shift to the edge of the bed and squint in the low light. I really don’t want to get up right now. But at the same time, there’s a weird sense of calm in my chest, like maybe I cried out just enough grief last night to function.
Go me.
I throw on an oversized hoodie and shuffle toward the kitchen like a half-dead raccoon looking for snacks.
I don’t know what I’m expecting to find, but when I turn the corner and see Dallas leaning against the counter alone, sipping coffee, I feel… uneasy.
Dallas has always been annoyingly attractive.
Like the makes you roll your eyes before you realize you’ve been staring at him, kind of attractive.
With his tan skin, effortless charm, and those stupid little dimples that show up every time he smiles.
But after last night, it’s like I’m seeing him clearly for the first time.
He looks up as I step into the room, and his face softens.
“Hey, you.” He says, taking a sip of his coffee. “Sleep okay?”
“Define okay ,” I mutter, rubbing my puffy eyes.
He gives me a smirk, like that’s the answer he expected, and sets down his mug. “Well, at least you got some sleep.”
“Where are the guys?”
“Niko’s around here somewhere and Rome slipped out a while ago.”
“Oh, okay, cool.” I hover awkwardly, then lean against the fridge, pretending to be casual. “I’m sorry, by the way.”
His brow ticks up. “For what?”
“For last night…” I gesture vaguely toward the hallway. “I know I probably put you in a tough position.”
Dallas tilts his head, like he’s trying to piece it together. Then his expression softens.
“Oh. That?” He waves it off. “Don’t worry about it. It’s fine.”
I bite the inside of my cheek. “Are you sure? I was worried I might’ve messed things up between us.”
He smiles at me, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “V, I’m not reading too much into what happened, and I don’t think you should either. Let’s just move on, yeah?”
I turn away before he can see the hit land .
“Yeah,” I say lightly, opening the fridge like it’s no big deal. “Sounds good to me.”
I pull out a bottle of water and twist the cap just to keep my hands busy.
He’s trying to be kind, trying to make it easy, but all I hear is that last night didn’t mean anything to him.
I thought something shifted between us, but maybe I read it wrong.
I guess I misread a lot of things last night.
I take a long sip of water to drown the ache rising in my throat.
The front door opens, and I glance over my shoulder.
Rome steps into the kitchen, holding a bakery box and a drink tray like he’s some kind of brooding delivery boy. All tall, dark, and emotionally repressed.
His eyes land on me and linger for a second, like he’s waiting for me to say something first.
Then he looks away and his jaw tightens.
He sets the box on the counter and pops it open.
“Brought donuts,” he says, voice neutral. “Pink ones. With sprinkles.”
I blink at him.
That’s… weird .
And unexpected.
He doesn’t look smug about it, either. No biting one-liner. No sarcastic jab. Which isn’t like Rome… at all.
It unsettles me more than any insult ever could.
I straighten, and raise a brow. “You brought home sugar? You hate sugar.”
Dallas smiles as he catches a white pastry bag Rome tosses to him and heads out of the kitchen.
Rome says nothing .
Just nudges the box toward me and takes a small step back.
My heart pounds, but not in a good way.
Rome is being nice.
T o me of all people.
Why?
Dallas must have told him how bad it got last night.
How I fell apart in his arms and stupidly misread his signals.
Now Rome is here with donuts and kind eyes like he needs to be delicate with me.
Because he feels sorry for me.
I grab one from the box and rip a piece off with my teeth.
It’s warm, sweet, and way too good for this moment.
“Thanks,” I say finally, not meeting his eyes. “That was…nice of you.”
I force a smile but it feels brittle on my face. “I’m feeling better now. So you totally don’t have to hang around if you’ve got other things to do.”
Rome goes still, just for a second, and then he nods once.
“Right.” He says, his jaw flexing. “Glad you’re feeling better.”
Rome turns and walks out.
The door slams behind him, and I flinch at the sound.
A second later, I realize I’m not alone.
Niko’s standing in the hallway, half-shadowed, with a coffee in hand. He doesn’t say anything. Doesn’t move.
Just watches me.
His expression isn’t sharp like Rome’s or easy like Dallas’.
It’s unreadable.
Still, there’s something in his eyes. Something quiet. Like he sees more than I want him to.
He gives me the faintest nod, then turns and walks away.
I stand there, chewing a donut I don’t even want anymore, wondering what just happened and why the hell it stings so much.