Chapter Ten

"What do you think?"

"Honest?"

"Yes, honest."

"I look like I've got two black eyes."

Violet bit back a laugh when Sasha scoffed. A cotton ball soaked with makeup remover was handed over, accompanied by mutters. "I'm not trying to be difficult," she promised, working to swipe away the shades of gray and black coating her eyelid. Sasha got another cotton ball and began to work on the other eye. "And I'm not ungrateful, because you taking your precious time off to help me is—"

"A wonderful, saintly thing to do," Sasha finished. "It's a good thing I came here early, though. I had no idea you'd be so…"

Lowering the cotton ball, Violet squinted at her. "So what?"

"Selective."

"Good choice." She took the warm wet cloth and cleared the last remnants of what was supposed to have been a smoky eye. "I just don't see the point of so much, because it's going to be hidden behind my glasses."

"True." Sasha nodded and surveyed the assortment of pots, palettes, and powders spread across the bathroom counter. "Okay, okay, I've got an idea. We'll just go for something simple."

"Simple is good," Violet agreed.

"Natural."

"Natural is even better," Violet said enthusiastically. With that, she may get away with just a little lip gloss and some powder.

Sasha motioned for her to sit again. "Let's do this."

Natural, Violet decided an eternity later, was a misnomer. Twitching her nose to ward off a sneeze as Sasha dusted her face with more powder, she sagged with relief when she was deemed finished. Before she could turn to look at the finished product, though, Sasha whipped out a tube of lipstick.

"There." Sasha wiped her glasses with a clean tissue then slipped them on. Catching her gently by the shoulders, she twisted her to face the mirror. "What do you think?"

If she hadn't just sat through a multitude of sponges and brushes and applicators dabbing and sweeping and patting her face, she wouldn't have noticed much of a change. But she could see the subtle sweep of color at her cheeks. The tint of matte pink on her lips. And she saw the faint glimmer of gold on her eyelids. "I like it."

"Yeah? I didn't use concealer, so if you—"

"It's perfect," Violet insisted. "Thank you, Sasha."

Sasha beamed and began packing away her supplies. "What time is he getting here? Seven?"

"Yes." She looked to her watch and saw it was only thirty minutes away. Why did she feel so nervous? They'd been together intimately. They'd shared beds. He'd even seen her eat. So why did her stomach dip and her heart skip several beats? Why did a date seem like such a bigger deal?

"Just enough time to do your hair and get you dressed."

Violet followed the petite woman out of the bathroom. "I can get dressed on my own—"

"You have to be careful about your face." Sasha made an impatient motion with her hand. "Lose the robe."

"Always so anxious to get me naked," Violet chided, shrugging out of the robe and tossing it onto the bed.

"Not as anxious as Finn is," Sasha snorted.

"Sami," Finn greeted in surprise, staring at the man at his door. Wiping droplets of water from his chest with his towel, he blinked slowly. "What are you doing here?"

"Just came by to make sure everything's going okay."

"Christ," he muttered, stepping back so his friend could enter the apartment. Closing the door, he draped the towel over his head and gave his wet hair a vigorous rub while heading for his bedroom. "I've been on dates before."

"Yes…" Sami followed, and leaned in the doorway. "But not with Violet."

As though he wasn't nervous enough already. He hastily began feeding a belt through the loops on his slacks while stepping into his shoes, aware that it was almost time for him to leave. "It's dinner and a movie, Sami. I think I can handle it."

"Just dinner and a movie?"

Finn turned, fingers going still as he followed Sami's gaze to the neatly made bed. "What?"

"New sheets?"

"…Maybe."

Sami sniffed the air dramatically. "Vanilla?"

"Lavender," he muttered. It was supposed to be relaxing. He yanked the belt through the last loop and fastened the buckle. "What's your point?"

"I've never seen the place look so clean."

"Thanks a lot, pal." Finn hid a grin as he pulled on his shirt, then ducked into the bathroom to comb his hair.

"Are you hoping to get lucky or something? Because you've put in a lot of work here." Sami chuckled. "You even dusted!"

"I can't have a clean place?" Finn called defensively, tucking his shirt in. He looked at his reflection and brought a hand to his chin. Should he have shaved?

"No, no, yeah, you can. But…" Sami waited until Finn exited the bathroom. "New sheets, air freshener… I know you, man."

"It's not getting lucky. Well, it is. But it's not."

Sami looked at him askance. "You want to run that by me again?"

"No." Finn fastened his watch and looped the tie around his neck. He was just starting to fix the knot when he spotted Sami's reflection in the mirror.

"You can relax, you know. She already likes you."

"I know," he sighed. The fine material was slippery and he lowered his hands. He allowed himself to internally admit that the reason he was so nervous was that the date would make it official. It had been a long time since he had been in an official relationship. Casual dates, one-night stands, even friends with benefits, had been enjoyed, but not a steady relationship. He was excited by the prospect, because he liked being with Violet. He liked learning things about her. In and out of the bedroom, she was proving to be a fascinating woman. Yet he was nervous. What if she decided she didn't like him as anything more than a fuck buddy? He flinched at the crass term. What if she realized that he really was boring? What if she found out just how awkward and dorky and—

"Dude. Calm down." Sami reached to tug the tie from his grasp. "You're making a mess."

Finn watched the crumpled silk land on his dresser and released a sigh. "I'm a mess."

"Nah. Just nervous." His friend offered an understanding smile and got another tie from the closet. "Here."

He gave in and let Sami fix his tie, fingers drumming against his thigh. "This is fucking ridiculous," he muttered, tilting his head back further when the knot was tightened. Starting to choke, he slapped Sami's hands away and adjusted the tie.

"What's ridiculous? You doing all this?" Sami took the ruined tie and tossed it into the closet.

"Me being nervous." Finn took his jacket from the foot of the bed and slipped it on. "Why should I be worried? It's just dinner and a movie."

"Where are you taking her?"

"Over to the—" He stopped suddenly and glanced up from double-checking his wallet. Carefully tucking it into his pocket, he reached for his phone and keys. "Oh, no. I'm not telling you."

Sami's face fell. "Why not?"

"Because I know you." He gave his hair a final adjustment and left the bedroom. "You'll tell me what a great choice, and then while I'm eating my salad I'll look over and see you in a corner spying."

"No you wouldn't, because Karl—"

Finn whirled around to face his friend, chuckling when he saw the startled expression on the man's face. "That bastard sent you here for reconnaissance?"

"Not exactly…" Sami rubbed the back of his neck, which was nearly the same ruddy red as his hair. "He said that out of all of us, you were more likely to tell me."

"Some friends," Finn muttered, continuing to the door. "Fine, I'll tell you where I'm going."

"Really?"

Finn waited until they were out of his apartment and heading towards his parked car before answering. "I'm taking Violet to that little Italian place a few blocks from the park. Then we're going to catch the new Purge movie."

"I didn't think you liked horror." Sami looked confused.

"Oh, she got me to watch the other two over the weekend." The lie rolled off his tongue easily, and he grinned while opening his car door and leaning in to start the engine. The evening was balmy, the Florida sun still strong despite the fact it was nearing the horizon.

"What are you going to do to Karl if you run into him?"

"Oh…" Finn shrugged, getting behind the wheel. "I don't think I will."

"But he's going to know where—" Sami's eyes sparked, and his lips twisted into a knowing grin. "You sly bastard."

"I have my moments. See you later, yeah?"

"Have fun," Sami called as he slammed the door shut.

"Here," Sasha announced, holding out a small bag. "It's got the lipstick and powder in it, and there's room for your phone and key and a couple of tissues."

Violet took the bag. As the clock raced to the time Finn said he would be there, her nervousness increased. Twice she had suggested she ditch the dress and wear jeans instead. Twice, Sasha had given her a look that would have made a dragon proud. Three times, she had been shushed before she could suggest she wash off the makeup. She had lost count of how many times she had fidgeted with the dress and gotten swatted.

"You look fantastic. Now stop," Sasha insisted, swatting Violet's hand away from the neckline of the dress. She gave it a gentle tug to expose just a hint more cleavage, then moved behind her to give her hair a final fluffing.

"I'm trying," Violet promised, unzipping the small purse to put her phone and key into it. She plucked her ID from her wallet and slipped that in as well. Then, recalling all the horror stories she had read, folded a couple of twenties and stuffed them in. About to zip it closed, she spotted something shiny behind the powder compact and plucked it out. "Sasha…"

"Better safe than sorry," the woman sang.

"He has plenty," Violet said, tossing the condom onto the bed. "But thanks just the same."

"Just looking out for my girl," Sasha said. "Are you sure you don't want me to give your hair a little more curl?"

"Positive." She had learned during those unending moments of Sasha wielding a curling iron that she was not one for hairstyling. She did admire the work the woman had done though. Her hair was pulled back from her face – except that damned annoying bit that was shorter than everything else – and Sasha had deftly twisted the locks to the crown of her head, where they were secured with bobby pins. Somehow they looked like a waterfall, joining the rest of her hair in a wave of tousled curls that fell to her waist. The entire time her fingers had been in her hair, Sasha had raved over its thickness and shininess and how well it behaved. Smiling, Violet turned and gave the other woman a quick hug. "Thanks again for doing all of this."

"Next time you won't need me, you'll be able to do it yourself."

"Wait, what—"

"He's here," Sasha announced at the sound of a knock on the door. She was already halfway across the room, but suddenly skidded to a stop and turned around. "You answer the door."

"But—"

"He's here to pick you up. He doesn't need to see me." Sasha was already at her side. She gave her a none-too-gentle nudge toward the door, then ducked into the bathroom. Half a second later, the red shawl sailed through the air, landing at Violet's feet.

"Unbelievable," Violet muttered. Snatching up the shawl, she shook it out and tossed it over one shoulder.

"Go," was all Sasha said before closing the bathroom door.

She took several deep breaths on her way across the room. Refusing to let her nerves get the better of her, she opened the door without hesitation. Her gaze dropped to the floor, and she saw a pair of shoes. Lifting her head, she took in well-tailored slacks, a subdued belt buckle, a crisp white shirt tucked in. She caught sight of his hand moving and followed it up, watched the fingers adjust the knotted tie. A sigh passed her lips just as they began to curve into a smile, which she saw mirrored on his face.

"You look—" Her smile only widened as he spoke at the same time.

"Amazing," she finished.

"Stunning," he said. He extended his hand. "You ready?"

Her anxiety exited without a fight. All the work had been worth it, she decided, slipping her hand into his.

Later, she wouldn't be able to remember what she ate at dinner, or if she ate at all. She would remember the aromas of spicy food. The congenial server. The muffled clinking of china and crystal. And Finn. His smile. The soft light that seemed to dance in his eyes. The easy conversation about films and books. The lighthearted debate about Star Wars, and whether or not the prequel trilogy had been well done. And, burned into her memory forever, his hand sliding across the table to touch hers.

She held her breath in anticipation as they entered the theater's lobby. Several dozen people milled about, buying tickets and lining up at the concession stand. Some were strolling around, focusing on the gilded ceiling, the framed posters and lobby cards from classic films, the old-fashioned velvet rope. Hand in Finn's, she followed along as he approached the ticket booth. The teenager behind the glass looked from Finn to her, and Violet didn't miss the brief expression of disgust. He didn't seem to notice, his attention on plucking money out of his wallet.

"Popcorn?" he asked as they crossed the lobby.

"I…" It was the last thing she needed. But the air was thick with the aroma and she nodded. His hand squeezed hers while they waited in line. She couldn't help but step closer to him, admiring his profile as he studied the menu board. As soon as he let go of her hand she missed the contact.

Seemingly without a thought, his fingers trailed her bare arm, then cupped her shoulder. Then, sending her a quick smile as they stepped forward in line, his arm slipped around her and guided her closer. "Extra butter?"

"Please," she answered with a warm smile. "And soda."

"Raisinets? Milk Duds – What the hell is a milk dud?" he asked.

"I think they're the caramel things. About this big?" She held her thumb and index finger apart. "Covered in chocolate."

"I thought those were Whoppers?"

"No, those are the malted milk balls."

"Ah." He nodded, guiding her up to the counter. And, to her shock, he ordered a box of each of the candies he'd mentioned, as well as two tubs of popcorn with extra butter and drinks.

"Good god," she muttered when he passed the boxes and the first tub of popcorn to her.

"I'm hungry," he explained. He squeezed her shoulder before his arm fell away. She opened her mouth to offer to pay for the snacks, but he was already handing over the cash, so she stayed silent.

In the theater, he insisted she choose where they sat. And didn't seem to mind when she led him to seats at the left wall. There was fumbling while they got seated. Violet finally got a taste of the exquisite popcorn just before the lights dimmed. It was cool, and she shifted, straining with her free hand to straighten the shawl over both her shoulders. Then she felt his hand helping. It slipped beneath her hair, smoothing the red silk. Sighing at the feel of his fingers gently rubbing the back of her neck, she turned her head to thank him.

His lips covered hers before she could. His tongue danced over hers, warming her better than the shawl ever would, and she sighed happily.

"I've wanted to do that all night," he whispered, lips moving to her ear.

"Why did you wait?" she asked, keeping her voice low as the lights went out.

"Because," he said, his voice a low whisper only she could hear, "I'm a gentleman."

"I'm not," she pointed out.

He pressed his lips to her temple, his chuckle lightly vibrating her skin. "Then you won't be insulted if I ask you back to my place?"

She could hear a preview playing. The voices in it were vaguely familiar, but she was caught by Finn's question and couldn't pull away to see what the preview was for. "Why would a gentleman ask me that?"

"He wants to show you his stamp collection," he muttered.

"I thought you collected Lego," she whispered.

"A thaisce…"

She dared a peek at the movie screen. Recognizing the movie preview, she turned her full attention back to him. Finding his lips for a brief kiss, she nodded. "I'd love to. But…"

"But?"

"I want a tour."

He chuckled again, and she was suddenly grateful no one was sitting near them. "My place isn't that big."

"Then you'll have to give me something else to tour," she teased.

"Did you want tea or anything?" Finn asked while he closed the door. A few steps ahead of him, Violet leaned against the wall and bent to remove her sandals. He watched her, one hand lifting to loosen his tie.

"Tour first," she said, unwinding the shawl from her shoulders. She straightened, the wavy curtain of her hair falling away. Whether she meant it or not, the look she gave him was filled with lust. He stepped forward, heart thudding.

"Kitchen," he whispered when she caught his tie and tugged him down for a kiss. He gestured behind him with one hand before clutching her waist. Guiding her further into the apartment, he winced when he inadvertently walked her into the table between the kitchen and living area. Breaking the kiss, he motioned to the table. "Lego building station."

She giggled, arms circling his neck. "No home is complete without one, right?"

"My thoughts exactly." He pushed his lips to hers, one hand reaching between them to fully loosen his tie. Her fingers were immediately at his neck, plucking open the buttons of his shirt, and he moaned as they danced over his bare skin. Pulling her away from the table, he guided her into the living area. "Living room," he whispered between kisses, releasing her when she began pushing at his jacket. He felt it fall but didn't care where it landed. "Couch from Ikea."

"Fascinating," she said, eyes never leaving him.

His hands roamed her back, searching for the zipper. Giving up the search, he pulled at the skirt, fingers grazing sinfully soft upper thighs as he guided her into the bedroom. She broke away long enough to give the room a cursory glance, then walked backwards to the bed. He stared, drinking in her pink cheeks and wide eyes. Her fingers slipped into her hair, and seconds later he heard something clatter on the nightstand.

"Finn?" she asked, and he immediately crossed the room to her. Her lips were heavenly soft and returned his kiss with the passion he had only ever found in her. "That was an awfully quick tour…"

"It's not over yet," he promised. Her hands were everywhere, it seemed, and before he could calculate what they were doing his shirt was being pushed down his arms. He heard the clink of his belt buckle a few seconds later.

"There's more?" she whispered, pulling her hands away and reaching behind her neck.

The sound of her dress unzipping filled the room. He watched it loosen at her shoulders, then reached to help it down, pressing his face to the side of her neck. "You haven't had a tour of the bed, a thaisce."

"How long does that tour last?" she murmured. Warm, soft fingers stroked his abdomen, then grasped the waistband of his slacks. She tipped her head back, gasping as his lips trailed up her neck, over her jaw, and across her cheek to her mouth.

"A while…" His slacks loosened, and he stepped out of them an instant before her hands clutched his waist and tugged. Lying over her, he carefully removed her glasses and set them aside. Then he offered her another kiss. "At least a couple hours."

"Is it a thorough tour?" Her voice was barely above a breathy whisper.

"No," he answered, kissing the tip of her nose. "The thorough tour lasts all night."

Her body rolled beneath his, sending a ripple of lust down his spine. "I'd like that tour, please…"

He chuckled, blindly reaching to switch on the lamp. "As you wish, a thaisce."