Page 14 of Code Violation

She tips her chin at the blue corner couch in the center of the living room. Between that and the large flat-screen TV, set on the opposite wall, sits a white wooden coffee table with two drawers on either side.

“What I do most nights. It’s not particularly special, but it does make me happy.”

I quirk a brow, intrigued.

She chuckles. “Haul my king-size duvet onto the couch and spend the next couple of hours coloring.”

I rear back, eyeing her carefully. Maybe I don’t know everything about this woman. “Coloring?”

Vesper nods once and climbs down from the stool, making her way over to the coffee table. She opens the drawer nearest to her and pulls out a tabloid-sized coloring book and a deep red pencil case.

She closes the drawer and approaches me, flicking through the book.

Settling on a page, she slides the book toward me. I’m really fucking impressed. This isn’t coloring like I used to know it as a kid; this is freaking art.

It’s almost like the underwater scene staring back at me is real; the way Vesper has blended colors goes way beyond the usual challenge of aiming to stay between the lines.

She turns the page to an Italian landscape with an old Fiat 500 driving down a cobbled road, houses on either side draped in flowers and sunshine.

This image is more detailed than the last. The skill on display accurately imitates light reflecting off the car and is really incredible.

“Each drawing takes me several hours to complete. Oftentimes, I fall asleep in front of a movie with a pencil in one hand and this book resting in my lap.”

The need to kiss her has never been stronger, nor has the thump of my heart.

“Do you have a second coloring book?” I ask.

Vesper snorts a laugh. “Are you being serious right now?”

I don’t bother answering, sliding off the stool and heading toward her bedroom. If she kept the same room after Drew moved out, then it’s the one at the end of the hallway.

Vesper’s bed is neatly made—or it was before I rip the duvet from the mattress and carry it through to the living room, throwing it over the back of the couch.

I turn to face her as she gazes at me, open-mouthed, from where she hasn’t moved from next to the island.

“Take a seat, Knockout. I need to witness the master at work.”

5

. . .

Vesper

One minute, I’m trying to blend pink and orange for a sunset landscape, and the next, I’m waking up in my bed with the sunrise seeping through my blinds.

All I have between that time is a brief recollection of pencils clattering to the floor in the living room and an all-encompassing pine cologne as I was carried to bed.

Silas.

I shoot up, and the duvet that was strewn across the couch last night pools in my lap.

I’m alone in bed, but when did he leave? And why did I pass out so hard? All I had was one glass of wine.

Throwing the duvet back, I pad across to my dresser, wearing the black leggings and jersey I wore to the game. I’m still wearing makeup, although my hair is down and around my shoulders; the hair tie I used to pull it out of my face last night remains next to my phone, which has been plugged in to charge.

I pick it up, check for messages, and find multiple from the girls group chat with June, Drew, and her younger sister, Marley. The first is from June with a picture attached of her standing in a dressing room, taking a selfie.

June