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*****
I hate Shakespeare and Gosling and cakes with white frosting
Two names in a heart-shaped tattoo
I think cupid is stupid and violets are purple not blue
I hate catching bouquets, the honeymoon phase
And letterman jackets don't fit
Your eyes can't hold stars and you'd die if your heart really skipped
I hate love songs (I hate love songs)
Yeah, I really do (I really do)
I hate love songs (I hate love songs)
But I love you
—I Hate Love Songs by Kelsea Ballerini
*****
Violet lets herself inside, shutting out the sounds of the summer thunderstorm that popped up during the drive over from 51. The house is still and quiet, save for the gentle hum of the air conditioning blowing from the vents. No surprise there. It’s barely 7:30 on Evan’s day off. She knows he’ll likely be up soon to hit the gym, but she moves quietly all the same, taking care to not disturb him as she toes off her shoes and hangs up her keys on the hook beside his.
It was weird at first—using the key and alarm code he’d given her to his place a while back. Come over whenever you want. I like you in my home. Exchanging keys is not an achievement she’d ever reached before with other guys. Much like every important step in their relationship, some time to adjust was necessary. In an effort to be equitable, and mostly because she wanted to, she’d given him a key to her apartment, too. One morning shortly after the great key swap of 2022, she’d come home from shift and found him in her kitchen with bagels and her favorite coffee before he had to get to headquarters. Overcome with gratitude by his sweet gesture (and lust thanks to the white shirt and gold bugles), she’d shown her appreciation with a filthy kiss that turned into a quickie on the couch and Evan running late for work. She was sold after that.
She brews a pot of coffee for him so it’s ready before he leaves, then she throws some of her clothes in along with his into the washer. They don’t have any firm plans today. Evan had mentioned going to Home Depot to look at tile for the half bathroom he’s slowly remodeling. Her participation now hinges on how long the rain lasts and whether or not she gets a decent nap. Frankly, she can think of far better things to do with him on a rainy day off, but they can work that out later. Stifling a yawn, Violet stretches and feels the exhaustion from shift catching up with her.
Evan doesn’t stir in the slightest when she opens the bedroom door. He’s sound asleep on his back with one arm bent up, his hand resting on his forehead. He’s adorable, and a smile tugs at the corners of her lips as she shucks off her clothes. Tossing them in a pile on the floor beside the bed, Violet pulls back the covers and slides in beside him. Despite the chilly air in the room, heat radiates off Evan’s body beneath the sheets, and she inches closer to his warmth, rolling on her side to face him. She watches him sleep for a moment, taking in his familiar profile and counting the freckles on his face. It’s still foreign to her—this giddy feeling of pure happiness—that swells inside whenever they’re together. And even when they’re not, it sneaks up on her sometimes, humming under her skin, reminding her how grateful she is to have him in her life. Ugh, she’s cheesy now. Sappy. But if that’s the tradeoff required to have Evan Hawkins, she’ll make it. Every single time.
Leaning in, Violet presses a lingering kiss to the hinge of his jaw, just below the earlobe. “Good morning,” she murmurs into his ear, attempting to gently coax him awake. A soft moan escapes his mouth and he shifts onto his side, wrapping an arm around her back. He mutters something else, maybe the syllables of her name, she’s not really sure. It doesn’t matter anyway. With a soft smile, she curls her palm around the side of his face, sweeping the pad of her thumb over his cheekbone.
She watches his face, waiting for that line between asleep and awake to blur and give way to cognition. A moment later, a slow, lazy grin stretches across his mouth, still mostly asleep, and his hand flexes between her shoulder blades to press her closer. “Hey, baby,” he mutters, voice rough and thick with sleep. Violet angles her head just so and slants her lips over his in a quick kiss. Evan rubs the heel of his hand over one eye then the other, chasing away the remnants of sleep, slowly blinking his eyes open and meeting her gaze.
“Hi,” she says. His hazel eyes are more on the green side this morning, as she suspected they would be. They usually are in the morning, and it’s fascinating the way the color of his eyes changes throughout the day, depending on the light and his moods. When they met, she’d sworn his eyes were brown. The morning after their very first night together, before she fled his house in a panic, she’d turned back to give him what she thought would be one final kiss to cap off a night of fun mistakes with her boss. Once she’d pulled away and looked into his eyes, she noticed they had a little green in them. When she wasn’t thinking about the multiple orgasms he’d given her the night before, or deciding whether or not fucking the boss truly constituted good trouble, she’d thought about that.
“I missed your face,” Evan tells her. His hand on her back reaches up to pat the messy top knot on her head she’d thrown up after changing out this morning. “Cute.” He leans in to kiss her this time, soft and sweet, and wraps his arm around her waist on top of the blankets. “How was your shift?”
Violet shrugs, combing her fingers through his messy hair. “Really busy overnight. Emma and I were constantly running. Four calls after midnight alone.”
His lips twist into a sympathetic smile. “You need a nap, then.”
“Yeah.” Sleep is definitely on the menu, but she could go for something else first. Maybe. “Are you going to the gym?”
“It’s leg day,” he replies, tone matter-of-fact. A dazzling smile follows closely behind.
Violet barks out a laugh and rolls her eyes. He can play all he wants, but she knows he’s dead ass serious about his gym routine. “Can’t skip leg day! I’m surprised you didn’t go when they opened at 5:00.” She likes to tease him, but honestly, she’s proud of his dedication to health and fitness. Besides, she reaps the benefits of his hard work. Not only is her man a smokeshow, but he’s ridiculously strong and has crazy stamina in bed, which has paid off in, uh, wonderfully surprising ways.
Evan laughs. “Smartass. I take it you don’t want to go with me today?”
She loves working out, truly, but nowhere near to the level he does. Sometimes she goes with him to the gym, and sometimes he’ll go on runs with her. Today though, the only workout she’s interested in is one where they’re tangled up in each other. Flashing him a cheeky grin, she replies, “No thanks. I don’t want to distract your leg day with my hot ass in workout tights.”
He wags his eyebrows at her and smirks, his hand sliding south from the small of her back to palm her ass on top of the blankets. “Your ass is super hot,” he agrees, squeezing firmly, and Violet gives him a winning smile in return. Evan leans in to drop a quick kiss to her lips before rolling out of bed. “I’ll be right back.”
Thunder rumbles as the storm rolls on, the rain a steady tap tap tap against the window. It’s completely gross if you have to be outside, and she’s thankful not to be on shift right now. However, it is the perfect weather for napping and having a lazy Saturday. Guilt tends to creep in if she’s lazing away while the sun is shining. She rolls to her other side, facing the door, and snuggles down under gray sheets, pulling them up to her chest.
Evan returns a handful of minutes later, and sits on the bed beside her, gently rubbing his knuckles over her cheek. She blinks her eyes open and offers him a soft smile to match the one on his face. “Thanks for making coffee,” he says.
“You’re welcome.”
His gaze roams down over her exposed skin and Violet bites back the smirk that threatens her lips as recognition finally dawns in his eyes. “Are you naked right now?”
Casting him a wicked smile, she draws a hand up to where the sheet is draped low on her chest. “I don’t know. Wanna find out?”
His enthusiastic nod is adorably sexy. “I would, in fact, very much like to find out.”
Violet lets out a contemplative hmm that draws his eyes up to her mouth. “I don’t want to distract you from leg day, Evan.”
Evan rolls his eyes fondly and stands up, grabbing the corner of the blankets in his fist. “Yeah, well, you’ve got legs for days and I’m more interested in those right now.” Then he peels them back enough to dive into bed beside her, pulling the covers up over their heads. Making a show of it beneath the sheets, he gets handsy in a hurry, mapping her body in playful touches that make her squirm and giggle.
“Stop! That tickles,” she pleads, laughing, when his fingers skim the back of her knee.
Hooking his hand around that same knee, he hitches it around his hip and rolls her onto her back, settling comfortably on top of her body. He pulls the covers down off their heads and grins warmly down at her. “After a preliminary search, I’ve determined you are definitely naked.”
Violet settles her hands on his shoulders, fighting back the ridiculous and cheesy grin that wants to form, and fails. He’s so serious a majority of the time, and this silly and playful side of Evan that only she is privy to, warms her heart. “Is that right?”
“Mhmm. But,” he starts, pressing a slow, sipping kiss to her mouth, one hand curving around her jaw, “I need to conduct a more exhaustive exploration to be sure.” He kisses her again, lips lingering. And just like that, he’s gone from playful to seductive. A feat, honestly.
His mouth is warm and minty as he kisses her, soundly, with such promise and certainty, that she’s dizzy with desire and affection. “Evan,” she sighs when he breaks the kiss to catch his breath, absently slipping her fingers into his hair. The question in his eyes remains unspoken, but she’s happy to fill in the blanks for him. “I’m in the mood for slow this morning. Take your time, okay?”
At this invitation, his eyes practically twinkle in delight, as though she’s given him the keys to the kingdom to do as he pleases. Too often she’s spurring things on, asking for harder, faster. Begging him to fuck her. All of which he does so well. More often than not, he’s content on taking his time, caressing, teasing, building her up over and over again before finally letting her come. Today, she simply wants him. Wants to linger and enjoy not only the physical connection between them, but the emotional one as well. The latter being the one she’d struggled with the most early on in their relationship. Still does, some days; Evan helps her through it. And though she despises the term make love, that’s exactly what she wants and needs.
When he ducks back under the covers and blazes a trail of slow, open-mouthed kisses down her stomach, over her hip bone, down further to lick the crease of her thigh, making her gasp and arch, she knows she made the right choice.
The first thing that registers as Violet floats back towards consciousness is that the room is pitch black. There’s zero chance she slept the entire day away, even though Evan had worn her completely out with three orgasms before he left for the gym. Clumsily swatting at her face, she finds the light-blocking culprit—also known as her leopard print sleep mask—and pushes it up on her forehead, slowly cracking one eye open to test the brightness in the room the best she can sprawled out on her stomach. Finding it dim and gray and not offensive to her eyeballs, she blinks a few times, letting them adjust.
She’s not alone either. Evan’s curled up beside her, his palm pressed warmly against the center of her back. Even though her head is turned away, she can smell his soap and the scent of laundry detergent, so he must have showered after the gym before getting in bed with her again. He’s not much of a napper himself now that he’s off the 24-on/48-off carousel, but he indulges her from time to time, lying beside her reading while she naps.
He moves his hand away, only to replace it with his finger tracing shapes into her skin. Invisible and indiscriminate tattoos. A smile curls up the left side of her mouth. This is a thing he started doing occasionally a few months ago. Sometimes it’s over her hip while they’re in bed, or on the back of her shoulder while they’re cuddled on the couch. And sometimes he does it in public, with his thumb brushing her wrist while they’re holding hands, or over her knee under the table at a restaurant. It’s nice, intimate. Theirs. Every time she pays attention, trying to discern what it is he’s drawing, and she always comes up blank.
Today it’s different.
Today the loops and swirls he’s tracing give way to very distinct, crisp lines, almost like he’s spelling words in large, capital print. She pays close attention, trying to picture in her mind the letters he’s creating as his calloused finger drags lightly over her skin. Two parallel vertical lines followed by a horizontal line in the middle. H. Then he draws a single vertical line down the middle of her spine. I.
Violet turns her head so she can see his face. Evan is on his side, dressed in a t-shirt and shorts, head propped up on his fist. A smile tugs at the corners of his mouth as she catches his warm gaze. “Did you just spell HI on my back?”
He chuckles softly, a dimpled grin stretching across his mouth, his fingers moving again. Y—E—S. The curves of the S tickle, and she squeaks a little, shifting closer to him. “That tickles,” she playfully scolds.
“Sorry.”
Tipping her chin up expectantly, she purses her lips for a kiss. Evan obliges. “Hi,” she murmurs, pressing another quick kiss to his mouth.
“Hi. Sleep well?” he asks, reaching up and smoothing an errant tendril of hair behind her ear.
Violet nods once and rests her head back on the pillow. “Very. Pretty sure that was a mini coma I fell into. How was the gym?
“It kicked my ass. Probably won’t be able to walk right tomorrow.” Violet’s eyes light up in amusement and he covers her mouth with his hand before she can make the filthy joke that’s right there for the taking. “Don’t be a dirtball.”
“You’re no fun.”
Evan smirks. “None whatsoever. I’m the worst.”
He’s the best, and she’s not stingy about sharing the fact that she thinks so. With him or anyone who’ll listen. “Can I ask you something?” she says very seriously.
The hand gliding over her shoulder halts and his eyes flick to hers, concerned. “Of course.”
She sighs, a bit on the dramatic side. “Are you going to drag me to Home Depot with you?”
“Jesus Christ,” he swears, barking out a laugh. Then he laughs some more, his head falling back with it. She’s not offended, frankly. She is a lot to handle at times, and he has an abundance of patience for her antics. Once he’s composed himself, he looks her dead in the eyes and tells her in no uncertain terms, “Yes, you’re going to Home Depot with me.”
“Ugh, fine! I will go, and help you pick out tile for your bathroom. And I promise my attitude will be improved by then.”
Evan looks dubious, but he nods his acquiescence. “I was going to surprise you later, but as an incentive I’ll tell you that I’m cooking chicken parm tonight.”
Gasping excitedly, she lifts her head up and kisses the smirk off his face in a series of noisy kisses. On their third date, Evan had invited her over so he could cook dinner, and he’d made his grandmother’s recipe for chicken parmesan that is out of this world amazing. So good, in fact, that after she’d taken the very first bite, moaning lewdly while she chewed, she swore in her head that she’d be willing to have his babies someday. Hyperbole, sure, but not that far off. “You could have led with that, you know!” she tells him, pushing at his chest until he’s flat on his back, her body lying half on top of him.
Chuckling, he grins down at her and shifts slightly to a more comfortable position. His hand finds her back again, fingers resuming the more familiar cadence of loops and swirls. She wonders once more if they have any rhyme or reason. Violet props her chin on his chest. “Can I ask you something else?”
“Shoot.”
“What are you writing on my back right now?”
His finger stills for a moment while he stares back at her, thoughtful and serious. “The same thing I always write,” he answers quietly, and his finger moves again. Loop, swirl, loop, swirl.
Violet concentrates on the movements, trying to puzzle it out. “I don’t know what you’re saying,” she admits, searching his face for a clue. “Are you telling me I’m pretty?”
Evan shakes his head, a dimpled grin flashing across his face. “No. But you are pretty, Violet. The prettiest.”
A shy smile tips up her mouth at the sincerity in his voice. “Thank you,” she says quietly, warmth rising to her cheeks.
Suddenly the swirling loops fade away, clean lines taking their place. Violet closes her eyes so she can concentrate. The first one is easy. It’s another straight line down the middle of her back. I. Evan draws another line down her spine, but this time the movement continues with a straight line directly to the right. L. Next comes a circle just beneath her shoulder blades, his fingernail lightly scoring the skin making goosebumps dot over her body. O.
Oh.
Is this happening?
Violet holds impossibly still on top of him, willing her racing heart to calm down. She doesn’t want to miss a single second. Anticipation thrums beneath her skin as she waits for the next letter.
This time he starts at her left shoulder, drawing a diagonal line down towards her spine, then another diagonal back up towards her right shoulder. V. He finishes the word with a horizontal line to the left at the top of her back, followed by a straight line down from there, and a horizontal line to the right. He finishes it off with another horizontal line to the right in the middle. E.
One hand curves around his ribs, twisting the fabric of his shirt between nervous fingers. Violet knows what the last word is, but she wants him to spell it out for her anyway. Her eyes flutter open and she meets his intense gaze, already trained on her face, watching her reaction.
He draws a smaller V this time, with a straight line down from the bottom. Y. His hand slides lower to the small of her back, tracing the O. The last letter is in the center of her back once more. The point starts at the tip of her left shoulder blade down to curve around her spine and back up, ending the point at the tip of her right shoulder blade. U.
Evan flattens his palm in the middle of her back, as though to press those three words into her skin for safe keeping.
Tears prickle behind her eyes. “Evan,” she whispers, throat thick and tight.
“I love you, Violet. I’m in love with you.”
Overwhelmed with emotion, Violet closes her eyes again, lets his words settle in. Evan loves her. Evan is in love with her. It’s not like this is completely unexpected or anything. It isn’t. She’s never been happier in her entire life, or been more sure about anyone than she is about him. His actions every single day prove how much she means to him. The part that’s jumping out to her, however, is how long he’s felt this way.
Violet’s eyes seek his. “You’ve been telling me this for months?” she asks, racking her brain trying to remember when he’d started tracing shapes, or what she now knows were I love yous into her skin.
With a tender smile, Evan skims his fingers along her jaw. “Yeah, I have been. In different ways.” The question must be written all over her face, because he presses on. “St. Paddy’s Day. That was the first time. We went to that dive bar, remember?”
She laughs at the memory. “For green beer and a terrible cover band."
“Yep. You wore that ridiculous, green glitter top hat all day with shamrock stickers on your face, knocking back shots of whiskey without batting an eye.”
“And I kept collecting green beads and making you wear them.”
“Exactly. Then you let that nice, old man spin you around the dance floor to Galway Girl because he was missing his wife. I was already so crazy about you, but there was something in the way you ran up to me after the dance was over with this bright smile on your face before you kissed me…I just knew I was falling in love with you. So while we were in line for another drink I drew a heart on the back of your shoulder. I've been doing some form of that ever since."
Vision blurred with unshed tears, she blinks and sends them rolling down her cheeks. Evan gently brushes them away with the pad of his thumb. “Why didn’t you tell me before today?”
He inhales a deep breath, exhales it slowly. “Well, at first I wasn’t ready to say the words. And when I was, I didn’t think you were ready to hear them.”
That assessment is completely fair. Amazing sex aside, she knows for certain if he’d told her how he’d felt on St. Patrick’s Day, she would have run away screaming, and they wouldn’t be here today. “And you think I’m ready now?”
“I do, yeah. Besides, I couldn’t hold them in any longer. And, look, it’s okay if you’re not re—”
Violet cuts him off by pressing her index finger to his lips. “Don’t be stupid,” she teases. She takes a deep breath, feeling the weight of absolute certainty of the words on her tongue. Without hesitation, she opens her mouth and says, “I love you, too, Evan. I am so in love with you.”
Evan’s eyes fall closed, and she visibly watches his body relax, inch by inch. Violet doesn’t read into that any further than realizing surely it’s tough to be the first one to expose your true feelings, not knowing for certain whether the person you’re completely opening your heart to feels the same way. She imagines the relief would be immeasurable on her end if she’d been brave enough to tell him first.
God, she loves him. He’s everything brave and good and kind. The best type of wonderful life has to offer.
Yeah, yeah. She’s sappy now. She’s reaching the acceptance stage with it.
Violet slides up his body for a better angle to kiss him properly. She smiles before lowering her lips to his in a warm, slow kiss, hand curving over the side of his neck as they sink into it. His arms band around her waist to hold her close. “I really love you, you know?” she whispers against his lips. The prospect of saying these words out loud before today was super scary, but now that the truth is out there, she’s enjoying trying different variations on for size.
Evan nearly blinds her with his answering smile, fully bright and happy. Radiant. “You make me so happy, Violet,” he tells her, pressing his forehead to hers. “My god, I fucking love you.” Then he leans up to capture her lips again, hard and insistent.
Her body tingles from head to toe. Maybe it’s messed up for her to think it, but that last one sounded the best so far.
“So,” she starts, when they pull apart, a smirk teasing up one corner of her mouth. “Now that we’re in love, does that mean I have earned veto rights on the tile in your bathroom?”
A laugh rumbles deeply in his chest. “It does.”
Her eyes round excitedly. “Great!” she exclaims, rolling off of him and hopping out of bed. “I’ll shower and we can go to Home Depot.” She glances back at him over her shoulder, finds him staring at her in bewildered amusement. It’s a frequent flier in his arsenal of expressions reserved just for her.
“Well, well, well, look who’s excited about Home Depot all of a sudden.”
Violet spins on her heel to face him. “Right? I’ll be insufferable now. You might regret telling me how you feel. Too bad, no take backs. We fucking love each other, Evan Hawkins.”
Evan rolls out of bed and lunges for her, tossing her over his shoulder. Violet squeals, delighted. “Damn right we do,” he says, landing a playful smack on her ass. “C’mon. I’ll wash your back for you.”