12. Ivy
12
IVY
I heard Rome had lived practically everywhere in the country growing up. His previous home before coming here was New York. I was worried he would eventually chafe at living in our small town.
But when he turned up on my front porch with flowers and excitedly announced he was taking me ice skating in the town square, I suspected he might be a Starlight Grove townie at heart.
He took my gloved hand in his as we walked over. “I wasn’t expecting this at all,” I said honestly. “I look forward to the rink every year.”
Rome spun suddenly, facing me and walking backwards. “Did you think I was going to serenade you?” he asked with an incorrigible smile. “Take you to a karaoke bar where I’d blocked the first ten songs for myself?”
I shoved his chest and he stole my other hand too. “What sort of establishment would allow that?”
Rome laid my hands around his neck and pulled me close by my waist. “Maybe I should’ve hired those horse and carriages,” he mused, guiding us to continue in step together. “Pulled out my guitar and played for you while you were trapped. We could ride around town and everyone could hear and see us.”
My feet faltered. “Rome, if you did that to me I would die.”
He leaned in and whispered in my ear. “How would you know? You haven’t even heard me sing.”
“Can you sing?” I managed to ask.
Rome released me at once. “I guess you’ll never find out.” He shrugged. I made a noise of disapproval and he laughed, his hand instantly finding mine again.
We arrived at the rink and I knew the rest of the town were watching us. I quickly realized I didn’t care. Let them gawk at my gallant attempt to avoid spinsterhood.
But as Rome and I lined up for our skates, I got a covert elbow to the side.
“He better treat you right, Ives. Or he’ll answer to us,” Char whispered loudly before making a slicing motion at her neck. The female alpha was perfectly innocent again, wrapped up with Rosie by the time Rome had turned around.
I glanced around, looking at familiar faces in a new light. The town weren’t gawking, they were…looking out for me.
Tears pricked at the corner of my eyes and I blinked rapidly trying to dissolve them.
“You alright, Ivy?”
“Mmhmm,” I said, letting Rome guide me gingerly onto the ice. I skated this rink every winter and it always took me a few rotations to find my stride.
I found it much quicker this time, hand-in-hand with the gorgeous alpha steadying me.
“How does this compare to the rink at the Rockefeller Center?” I asked innocently.
Now that I was certain he was not measuring Starlight Grove against his old home, it was easier to tease him. Rome gaped, aghast that I would compare the two.
“Do you know how tiny and overrated that rink is?” he spluttered. “How many tourists and how expensive?—”
“I thought you would make a point of visiting it every year as soon as it opens,” I cut him off, my lips pursing seriously. “Make James take a photo of you in front of the tree pretending to hold the star between your fingers.”
I slid to a stop and demonstrated for him, pinching the air above me. Rome did not stop, guiding me out of the path of the other skaters and caging me against the wall of the rink. Our breaths fogged and mingled in the icy air, our scents rising through all our winter layers, wanting to blend.
“You’re messing with me.” His fingertips found their way beneath my coat and pressed against my hips.
“A little bit,” I said breathlessly.
“I deserve it though.”
There was a glint in that bottomless gaze of his, right before he scent-marked me. Chilled skin burning hot with the first touch. Hints of citrus, a burst of spice before settling into the smooth, warming aftertaste.
I was so close to turning my head and kissing him. So close to fulfilling the promise his scent left with me, consuming his lips and drowning in the taste of him.
But there was an exquisiteness in waiting. Resting on the knife-edge between need and want while something titanic built between us.
It was crazy because…he had been inside me. Knotted me. If we kissed it wouldn’t even be our first.
But that belonged to a pheromone-fueled version of us.
This moment right here had nothing to do with our designations.
“Come on.” Rome grinned, skating backwards until only our hands were linked. “We haven’t even had a proper race yet.”
I was tunnel visioned. Twitterpated. Goopy on good feelings.
Char would recount the whole thing days later for me, saying I was completely oblivious to the panicked teenager flying towards me screaming Ms. Winterrrrr .
All I knew in the moment was that I lost equilibrium, Rome reached for me, and suddenly I was staring at a slash of red across the white ice.
James was driving us to the nearest hospital twenty-five miles away.
I sat in the backseat with Rome, pressing a gauze pad against his brow to stem the flow of blood. He scraped back the longer strands of his hair and tied it in a knot so it was out of his face.
“I’m sorry,” I babbled. I repeated it several more times, wincing as I pulled the pad away and examined the wound.
“Why are you sorry, Ivy?” Rome blinked at me.
How deep did the cut go? “Because I sliced your head open with my skate?” I answered.
“Don’t feel bad. I think he’ll look really hot with a scar through his eyebrow,” James piped up.
Rome waved my concern away as if it were an insignificant little mosquito. “I should be the one who’s sorry because now we won’t make our dinner reservation,” he sighed.
“I’m a bit worried about both of your priorities here.”
There was a dreamy look in Rome’s eyes. “It was a really nice place, Ivy,” he assured me.
James adjusted the rearview mirror and shrugged. “It was. We managed to find a restaurant with authentic Sri Lankan food about two weeks after moving here. There’s actually a bunch of places I have saved that I’d like to try as a pack.”
I choked a little at his casual use of ‘as a pack’ .
“I do miss New York hot dogs though,” James continued. “Somehow I don’t think Kenny’s is gonna cut it for me.”
“You are never to eat there,” Rome told him sternly. His hand squeezed my knee and stayed there .
The vending machine sandwiches at the hospital’s waiting room were a definite downgrade from the dinner Rome had in mind. We made it through to the frazzled ED doctor after a couple of hours who introduced himself as Dr. Patel.
“Not my first ice skate injury tonight if you can believe it,” he said wryly as he examined Rome’s brow. “It’s deep enough that it will require stitches though. Probably about five or six.”
Rome shook his head vigorously. “Nope. No needles.”
“We can glue it but your scar will be more visible and may not heal as cleanly,” Dr. Patel warned him.
“That sounds great, I’m on board.”
“No, stitch it up and make it clean,” James interjected, ignoring Rome’s protests. “ Yes , Rome. It’s on your goddamn face, this is not the time to cut corners.”
Rome turned to Dr. Patel. “I will pay you to knock me out. Because if you come at me with a needle, it will be like trying to cross-stitch a fish, just—” He flopped his hand around gracelessly before suddenly gesturing at me. “I was on a date with her tonight . Can you fucking believe, I mean, just look at her. I can’t even pretend I’m not afraid of needles to try and impress her so you’re gonna have to give me something, doc.”
I had no idea what to do with his impassioned plea and neither did Dr. Patel. “I…won’t be bringing an anesthetist in for this procedure. But I can give you some nitrous oxide to calm your nerves,” he offered.
Rome threw up his hands. “Ok fine, let’s do that.”
I sidled up next to James while Dr. Patel fussed around with a mask and tube.
“Nitrous oxide. Isn’t that…?”
“Laughing gas? Yep,” James confirmed for me. “Don’t worry, he’ll find out soon enough.”
Rome held the mask over his face and sucked a few deep breaths. He relaxed, his expression taking on a euphoric quality. Dr. Patel quickly numbed the area with local anesthetic and got to work.
“Ivy.”
I took Rome’s outstretched hand. “Mmhmm?”
“I wish I had serenaded you,” Rome confessed.
“Oh…no.”
“The night is still young.”
“No, it’s really very ok,” I said, panicking slightly.
“Ok. No singing.”
I breathed a sigh of relief.
“But how do you feel about poetry?”
James turned away from us and his shoulders started shaking. Traitor.
“Your eyes are so blue like…” Rome scrunched up his face and thought for a long time. “...the sky.”
Dr. Patel cleared his throat with a stuttering croak that sounded awfully a lot like a smothered guffaw.
“Thank you, Rome, you really don’t have to continue.”
“No but I want to.”
I was strapped into a carnival ride with no exit. “Ok,” I agreed, giving myself over to the experience. “Lay it on me.”
“The sky,” Rome orated. “Limitless. Unknown.” He gave me a knowing look. “Blue.”
James let out a heaving sound like he was dying.
“Is it a surprise that it reminds me of you?”
I was paralyzed, unsure if I should answer. After a beat, Rome continued his spoken word…performance.
“So bright, so bleak. With stars complete. The change is the constant, the unpredictability its truth. This endless feeling, despite the ebb and flow.”
It was better for all involved if I focused less on the words and more on the way he was looking at me. I wondered how much of that hopelessly smitten expression was a result of the gas he inhaled.
Rome stared at me expectantly so I had to assume he was done.
“Thank you. That was wonderful,” I said with as much sincerity as I could muster.
“And I meant every word.”
“Good job, babe.” James took his other hand. “There was something almost profound in here. Almost .”
Rome gave him a dopey smile. “You have a nice face.”
James shrugged at me. “Guess he’s poetry-ed out. At least he said face .”
I just…adored them together. Adored how they were with each other and felt lucky that they let me be a part of it.
Dr. Patel declared he was done with the stitches and affixed a fresh bandage over his handiwork.
“Go home and get some rest. Tylenol every four hours if needed. And schedule a follow-up appointment with your PCP to get the stitches out in a week.”
Rome’s head drooped sleepily on my shoulder on the drive home, crashing hard after the adrenaline had run its course. I followed behind James as he helped his alpha to their bedroom. He tucked Rome in carefully, adjusting his arm so it wouldn’t rest against his wound.
James’ hand came to rest on the small of my back as he led me to the living room. “I’m sorry your date ended up badly. He’ll be beside himself tomorrow.”
“Tell him not to beat himself up. I had the best time with him,” I told him honestly.
James frowned. “I have to stay with him. Otherwise, I would take you home.”
“Of course you should stay, you don’t have?—”
“So I’ve asked Logan to do it. He’ll be here soon.”
It was a small gesture but it made a million butterflies come alive within me. Beating tiny wings that fanned my instincts. Automatically showing care and support when things went wrong. Letting it bring us closer, leaving no one out.
Is this what having a pack is meant to be like?
I turned away from James’ dark, astute eyes and allowed my gaze to drift around the room. It was lived in but not messy. An open book laying facedown on the coffee table. Rome’s beautiful piano in the corner with a stack of sheet music on top. I itched to take a closer look at the photo frames lining the mantelpiece overhanging the brick hearth.
“Hey,” I said shyly. “I’m in your house.”
The corner of James’ mouth lifted. “Yes. You are.”
“It’s nice.” It was. In so many ways. The small details I began to notice that made it theirs — a dropped guitar pick, an art print of dogs playing poker.
Not to mention the blend of their scents lingering over everything like a warm blanket.
James chuckled. “I’ll bring you back here tomorrow as part of our date and you can snoop to your heart’s content. How’s that?”
I couldn’t wait.
The way my gaze dipped to his lips did not go unnoticed.
James’ eyes narrowed. “Are you thinking of kissing me, Ivy?”
“Maybe a bit,” I admitted.
He groaned and the sound traveled instantly south . “We can’t. That would be…rude of me.”
“How so?” I asked. The way his jaw clenched was slowly dismantling me.
“Tonight was Rome’s date.” Every ragged breath lured us closer and closer. “I can’t kiss you after his date,” James insisted weakly.
All it would take was a single snowflake to break the avalanche of his control. My tongue carefully traced my lower lip, leaving my mouth slightly parted. “Why not?”
“If Rome asks, tell him I put up more of a fight.”
Then he plastered me against the door frame, crushing his lips to mine. Our bodies were flush together and he was everywhere. The taste of him on my tongue, his scent in my lungs. I moaned into his mouth as my hands fisted his thick dark hair.
“So fucking sweet, gorgeous.”
Me? What about him? He was the most luscious spoonful and I knew I would crave him forever.
The three hard raps against the front door were deafening. I gasped as we broke apart. James’ pupils were blown, his hair and clothes awry and his full lips a vivid shade of pink.
Did I do that?
“That’ll…that’ll be Logan,” James said with obvious strain.
“Ok.”
I was kissing him again. I don’t know why. It just made sense. James swore, kissing me back feverishly before pulling back with a low hiss.
“I will see you tomorrow,” he promised me. James laid a firm hand against my throat and I whimpered. He feathered kisses along my jaw until the frenetic beat of our hearts slowed. “Now, are you ready for Logan or do you need a moment?”
Another three knocks.
Breathe, Ivy.
Don’t open the door and scare the alpha with an explosion of perfume and risk leaping into his arms.
“I’m good,” I croaked.
The influx of frozen air as the door swung open helped immensely. I gulped it greedily, letting my head clear as James greeted Logan.
“Thanks for taking her home.”
“Of course. Ready to go, Ivy?”
Well, if I was trying to feel less worked up then the appearance of an alpha smelling like an enchanting pinewood forest was not helping. Logan hadn’t bothered with his jacket or hat so I got the full brunt of his bronze, tousled hair and broad chest. The top button on his shirt was undone and god help me that dark fuzz of hair peeking out made my knees weak.
“Yep,” I said, my voice extra high pitched as I put on my coat. “Night, James.”
“Night, gorgeous.”
Logan walked me down the drive and next door to his car. He tucked my hair behind my ear carefully and an observant smile graced his lips. “You seem really happy for someone whose date ended with a hospital visit.”
“Yeah, I am. It was still a great date.” I smiled up at him. “I can’t wait for ours, Logan.”
He immediately went pink beneath his grizzled beard. An adorable, low, rumbling sort of sound escaped him and he coughed into his fist to mask it.
Was that a purr?
I’d been thoroughly spoiled tonight with Rome’s flirtations and James’ kisses. But as Logan opened the passenger door for me, I couldn’t help but lean against him a little. He pulled me close and kissed my forehead and it was like the final piece falling into place.