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Or whatever the fuck it is.

I get it. He’s an Ambrose. He’s going to look at a pair of gorgeous tits and he’s not going to be all that slick about it.

Because the asshole gene is written into our DNA.

But Violet is mine.

Have you ever thought that maybe it isn’t all your fault your past relationships didn’t work out?

Because of that.

Because of her smiles.

Because of the ice and fire and heart.

And maybe…maybe after getting through this gauntlet of the last almost two weeks, sharing the shit I’ve never shared with anyone, her sharing just as much back…

Maybe it won’t all implode.

So, considering all I know of how little she’s had in her life, I table the murderous urges and turn to Beck, who’s now standing beside me. “Wouldn’t thought you’d ever say what?”

“Took one look at her with the fancy hair, the fancy clothes, the cooking, the politeness, and trying to smooth everything over with everyone, and thought she’d be like Mom—everything an act to get as much attention as possible.”

I know that’s not exactly fair to my mom, who’s a product of my fucked-up grandparents and picking a man who doesn’t even seem to like her.

But it’s also a product of my mom.

Drama.

Complaining about her circumstances.

Not that it’s right for my dad to say the shit he’s said…it’s just that I know a part of her feeds off that negative attention too.

“Vi’s not like Mom,” I say.

“Yeah, I know that now.” He jerks his head to the dance floor where Noble is spinning her in a circle, her blond hair free of that fucking bun for once and flying behind her like a cape. “Anyway, not that you give a fuck about my opinion, but I like her.”

I look at him. “Why wouldn’t I value you your opinion?”

He just looks back. “Bro,” he mutters dryly.

Because valuing opinions isn’t exactly an Ambrose family trait.

“We don’t have to be like them.”

He sighs, gaze drifting off into the distance. “Not sure we can be anything else, big bro.”

Have you ever thought that maybe it isn’t all your fault your past relationships didn’t work out?

No. But knowing Vi and…I want to.

I want to be something more than this shit.

I want to be more for her.

Noble stops spinning her and she collapses against his chest, head thrown back, smile wide as she catches her breath before the next song comes on.

Then it does and she whoops, glancing over at Evelyn and Hugo, who are dancing beside her and Noble, albeit with less enthusiasm—and I’ve gotta think that Millennial Pop likely isn’t their speed.