Chapter 7
IVY
Eric stood in the entryway, looking at me with those dark eyes that once made my heart skip. Now they just made me want to throw something. Preferably at his head.
"I'm sorry." The words came out soft. "For ruining your night."
I barked out a laugh. "Which time? Tonight, or four years ago?"
"Both." He shifted the flowers slightly. "But tonight, you deserved better than him."
"Better than what? A guy who was upfront about what he wanted?"
"Better than someone who just wants your body for a night."
Heat crawled up my neck. "Maybe that's all I wanted."
His jaw clenched, the muscle jumping beneath his skin. Something flickered in his eyes, dark and possessive and completely unwelcome.
"You're worth more than that," he said quietly. "Worth more than a single night."
This bastard. He had no right.
I stepped closer, anger sharpening my voice. "That's rich coming from you. You dropped me via text and vanished. Didn't even have the balls to do it in person. So you can shove those words up your ass. You're a fucking prick, Eric."
"I know."
"You know? That's it?" I balked. "That you're a piece of shit for doing what you did? That you hurt me. That a part of me wants to punch you in your stupid face for everything?"
"I deserve that." He held out the flowers. "Everything you just said, and worse."
"You think flowers will fix all your problems?" I stared at the arrangement, white roses mixed with small purple flowers. I had no idea what they were, but they were beautiful. Thoughtful. Everything he hadn't been when he left.
I wanted to smack them to the floor and stomp on them.
"No. But I want you to know that I think you're worth more than that guy at the bar. More than what I offered you. You deserve something good, someone true to their word."
True to their word. Like how he promised to always be there for me.
And then he left.
The flowers were beautiful, and maybe his words were a little nice. His eyes were genuine, even if I wanted to poke them.
My hands moved on autopilot, taking the flowers and carrying them to the kitchen. I pulled a vase from under the sink and filled it with water. The ritual gave me something to do with my hands besides slap him again.
"You're down to three minutes," I said, arranging the stems with more force than necessary.
Eric leaned against my counter, close enough I could smell him. Clean, masculine, familiar in a way that made my chest ache. He'd always made the effort to be clean and wear nice clothes. Looked after himself.
"The work opportunity was a lie."
I kept my eyes on the flowers as my heart skipped a beat.
"My brother was murdered." His voice stayed level, controlled. "Daniel. My family needed me back home."
My hands stilled on a rose stem.
"I knew I was in no state to be what you needed. Knew the family business would keep me there, probably permanently."
"What business?" My voice was soft now. Daniel. I knew the name. From stories he'd shared with me when we were dating. His big brother, one he looked up to.
Eric had never been one to lie about something like this. I couldn't imagine he would, and it would make sense.
"Construction. Large scale projects, commercial buildings, infrastructure." He paused. "I'm set to run it now."
I turned to face him, leaning against the counter opposite. "So you just decided for me? That I couldn't handle it?" I swallowed down my hurt and anger. Now I had a proper reason, an answer for why I'd not been enough to keep him.
He'd lost someone he'd loved, and he'd returned to those who needed him more.
I wasn't sure how to feel about that.
"It's not the life you wanted. Late nights, office work, endless meetings." He rubbed his jaw. "Your whole world was spontaneity and freedom. Dancing until three AM, road trips on a whim, making art at midnight because the mood struck."
"And you thought I'd what, wilt under a regular schedule?" I scoffed. He had no idea what I could adapt to if I chose to.
"I thought you'd be miserable."
"That should have been my choice." My voice cracked. "You took that from me. Took everything."
"How could I take everything?" His eyes found mine. "You still had Elena, Anna—"
"Anna got diagnosed with ovarian cancer a year after you left."
The color drained from his face.
"Stage three. They gave her maybe two years, three if we were lucky." I gripped the counter edge. "Elena and I watched her waste away. Held her hair while she puked from chemo. Sat in waiting rooms wondering if each treatment would be the last."
"Ivy—"
"I lost my job because I kept missing shifts to take her to appointments.
Elena struggled as well. I took up odd jobs and dancing, whatever I could to make the money needed.
We were drowning, and I had no one." The words poured out, the pain rising to the surface once more.
So many times, I'd sold my body just to make ends meet, allowed men to touch me and grind on me, and even more.
To survive. Because the only ones I had left were struggling.
"No one to lean on. No one to tell me it would be okay. Because the person I thought would be there had decided I was too flighty, too chaotic, too much work."
"Is she—" He swallowed hard. "Is Anna okay?"
Something in my chest softened at the genuine concern in his voice. Anna had liked Eric. Said he was good for me, steadied me without trying to change me.
"She's in remission now. Has been for almost a year."
"Thank God."
"She even has a beau." I scoffed at my own word choice. "He's good to her."
"I'm glad she's alright. She's a good woman."
"The best." I pushed off the counter, needing distance. "She and Elena both have their lives together now. Elena found her family, on her father's side. They took me in too, gave me a job at one of their clubs. It's good money, safe environment."
"But?"
I hated that he could still read me.
"But I'm just someone on the outside, really." I moved to the window, staring at the street below. "Like I'm playing dress-up in someone else's life. Elena's family is good to me, they try to include me in things, but I'm not actually part of it."
"They care about you."
"I know. That almost makes it worse." I traced a finger along the window frame. "I feel like an imposter sometimes. The wild card, the chaotic friend they keep around because Elena loves me."
"That's not true."
I turned to look at him. "Isn't it? I'm the one who shows up hungover to brunch. Who makes inappropriate jokes at family dinners. Who can't seem to get my life together while everyone around me is building empires and falling in love."
Eric moved closer, stopping just within arm's reach. "If anything, I always thought your energy brought life into everything."
"My chaos, you mean."
"Your spirit." His eyes held mine. "You were the one who picked people up when they were down. Who spoke up when everyone else stayed quiet. Who stood your ground and didn't back down from anyone or anything."
My breath caught. I wanted to be mad at him, to yell at him to get out, to leave.
To stop making me feel things for him all over again.
"That's not chaos, Ivy. That's courage." He took another step. "That's passion and loyalty and fire. Everything I wasn't brave enough to fight for."
"Eric—"
"It's why I fell for you." His voice dropped low. "You were so full of life. Everything felt brighter when you were around. More real. Like I could finally breathe after spending my whole life holding it in."
The air between us thickened. I should've stepped back, should've kept the distance, should've remembered the hurt.
But my body remembered other things. His hands in my hair. His mouth on my skin. The way he used to look at me like I was the only thing that mattered.
"You left," I whispered.
"I know."
"You broke me."
"I know." He reached up slowly, giving me time to pull away. His palm cupped my cheek, rough and warm. "I'd take it back if I could. Every day since, I'd take it back."
I closed my eyes against the sting of tears. "You can't just show up and—"
"I know that too."
His thumb brushed my cheekbone, and I shivered. Four years hadn't dulled the way my body responded to him. Four years of anger and hurt and missing him, and one touch undid all of it.
I should've slapped his hand away. Called him out for everything. Berated him.
But I couldn't.
"Ivy." My name on his lips, rough and desperate. "Look at me."
I opened my eyes.
The control he perfected had cracked. His eyes were dark, intense, filled with want and regret and something that looked like pain.
"I was a coward," he said. "I should have stayed. Should have fought. Should have told you the truth and let you make the choice."
"Yes." My hand came up to cover his. "You should have."
"I can't undo it. Can't give you back those years." His other hand found my waist, pulling me closer. "But I'm here now. And I'm not running."
"How do I know that?"
"You don't." His forehead touched mine. "You have to trust me. And I know I haven't earned that."
I should push him away. Should hold onto my anger like a shield. Protect myself.
But I wanted this. Wanted him. Wanted something good for once.
Instead, I tilted my head up and kissed him.
He froze for a heartbeat, like he couldn't believe it. Then he was kissing me back, deep, hungry, and desperate. His hands slid into my hair, angling my head for better access. I gripped his shirt, pulling him closer, needing to feel him. He felt solid and real.
This was stupid. Reckless. Everything I'd sworn I wouldn't do.
But God, I'd missed this. Missed him.
Eric walked me backward until we hit the wall. His mouth moved to my neck, teeth grazing sensitive skin.
"Tell me to stop." His breath was hot against my throat. "Tell me this is a mistake."
"Shut up." I tugged his shirt free from his pants. "Just shut up and—"
He kissed me again, swallowing whatever I'd been about to say. His hands found the tie of my robe, and I felt it give way. Cool air hit my skin.
"Beautiful," he murmured against my mouth. "You're so fucking beautiful."
I pulled hard at his shirt, buttons scattering across my floor.
He shrugged out of it, and I pressed my palms to his chest. Solid muscle, warm skin, the steady thud of his heart beneath my fingers.
I traced the cross tattoo on his chest. We'd discussed religion so long ago, his belief in the man above.
I knew what every tattoo meant, from the roses down his right arm for his mother's rose garden, to the Latin text snaking down his left arm, although there was a new one now, one I didn't recognize.
I paused, tracing the small skink that crawled across one side of the cross tattoo.
A memory flared to life, one of him telling me how he and his brother used to catch skinks as children, how his brother was always fascinated by reptiles and loved to visit Australia for their array of them.
"Daniel?" I whispered as I touched the tattoo, and Eric's face softened.
"You remember?" His voice was so soft, it made my heart lurch.
"Of course I remember."
Real. He was real.
Eric lifted me, and I wrapped my legs around his waist. He carried me to my bedroom like this was us, like four years hadn't passed, like we'd done this yesterday.
He laid me on the bed, following me down. His weight pressed me into the mattress, grounding and perfect. I arched up into him, needing more contact, more friction, more everything.
"Ivy." He pulled back enough to look at me. "Are you sure?"
"Do I feel unsure?" I rolled my hips against him.
His eyes darkened. "I need to hear it."
"Yes." I pulled his mouth back to mine. "I'm sure. I want you, Eric. I always have."
He kissed me slow and deep this time, like he was trying to memorize the taste of me. His hands explored my body, learning new curves, finding old sensitive spots that made me gasp.
When he finally pushed inside me, I felt something crack open in my chest. Something I'd kept locked tight for four years.
"Look at me," he whispered.
I met his eyes, and the intensity there stole my breath. This wasn't just sex. Wasn't just physical release.
This was something deeper. Something terrifying.
Eric moved inside me with deliberate slowness, watching my face like he was afraid I'd disappear. I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him closer, needing him deeper.
"I missed you." The words escaped before I could stop them. "God, I missed you so much."
He buried his face in my neck. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."
We moved together, finding the old rhythm like no time had passed. Building toward something that felt like coming home and falling apart all at once.
When I shattered, he was right there with me, my name on his lips.
After, we lay tangled together, sweaty and breathless. Eric's fingers traced lazy patterns on my shoulder. I rested my head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat slow.
This changed nothing. Changed everything.
I didn't know which scared me more.
"Stay," I heard myself say. "Tonight. Just stay."
His arms tightened around me. "I wasn't planning on leaving."
I smirked against his skin.
We'd see if that was true.
I'd heard it before.