Chapter 3
CHAPTER THREE
Wyatt
My mind’s reeling as I guide Ivy through the hotel foyer, her hand tucked securely in mine.
She was the last person I expected to see walking up onto that stage tonight, but I can’t deny how glad I am that she did.
When I told her she looked incredible, I meant it, and I definitely noticed the soft blush that crept into her cheeks when I said it.
I’m not entirely sure why her hand is still in mine. I’ve never held her hand before tonight, and I can’t explain why I haven’t let go yet. But I don’t, not until we step outside.
“Should I grab my car?” she asks, looking up at me. “I left my overnight bag in the trunk.”
“Yeah, of course. The bar’s just around the corner from my place. We’ll swing by and drop your car off first.”
She gives a quick nod and walks over to the valet stand.
I catch the way the guy behind the counter can’t stop staring at her.
Not that I blame him; she looks stunning.
And even though I’ve known her forever, there’s something about tonight that feels…
different. Like I’ve missed something about her until now.
Either that, or I’m just seriously grateful she showed up for me. Maybe it’s both.
Once her car is brought around, I guide her through the city to my apartment building, handing her my access fob for the underground garage when we arrive. As the roller doors rise, she drives in, and I gesture to a few empty spots on the left.
“You can park over here,” I tell her.
She nods, and I can’t help but smile as she sticks her tongue out slightly in concentration while parking.
“That was seriously nerve-wracking,” she says with a laugh, cutting the engine. “I think some of these cars are worth more than my entire house.”
“Maybe one or two,” I tease, giving her a wink. “I’ve always had a weakness for nice cars.”
Her eyes go wide as she glances around. “Wait, these are all yours?”
“Yep. Guilty pleasure,” I admit.
She grins. “So, which one’s your favorite?”
I shake my head. “That’s like asking me to pick my favorite sibling. I can’t.”
She laughs. “Fair enough.”
“What about you? Which one do you like?”
She doesn’t hesitate. “The red one. You can’t have a Ferrari in any other color.”
I chuckle. “You can. I’ve got one in black too.”
She rolls her eyes. “Of course you do. My car looks ridiculous parked next to all these.”
I shrug. “They all get you from point A to point B.”
“True. You just look a whole lot better doing it in one of those.”
My gaze lingers on her for a moment, and I can’t help thinking, in that dress, she’d look good driving anything. “Come on. The bar’s just around the corner. We’ll grab your bag when we get back.”
Ten minutes later, I’m holding the door open to Opulent, a sleek wine bar with a private upstairs area where I know we won’t be interrupted. Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate the fans, especially the kids, but sometimes it’s nice to just be off the radar.
“This place is gorgeous,” Ivy says as she steps inside beside me.
“The team comes here a lot,” I explain. “There’s a private lounge upstairs where we can kick back.”
I place a hand on her lower back, guiding her toward a staircase tucked in the back. A guy standing at the bottom gives me a nod and lifts the rope to let us through. When we reach the top, I motion toward a table and follow as Ivy walks over and takes a seat. I sit down opposite her.
Within moments, a server appears at our table.
“What can I get you to drink?” she asks, her eyes flicking between me and Ivy.
“You like champagne, right?” I ask Ivy.
“Um… yeah, but you don’t have to–”
“We’ll take a bottle,” I say, cutting her off gently and directing the order to the server.
She gives a polite nod and disappears.
Ivy leans in as soon as she’s gone. “Wyatt, you didn’t have to do that. A bottle of champagne? That’s probably crazy expensive.”
“It’s a thank you,” I tell her. “You drove all this way and saved me from a night of small talk with Cleo and whoever she wanted to parade in front of me. Plus, I narrowly avoided dinner with someone who looked like she planned to have me for dessert.”
Ivy laughs. “A glass would’ve been fine, Wyatt.”
I wave her off with a grin. “Why stop at one glass when we can have the whole bottle?”
When the server returns, she places an ice bucket beside the table and pours us each a glass before setting the bottle on ice and stepping away.
“Cheers,” I say, raising my glass toward Ivy.
She clinks hers against mine. “Cheers.”
I watch her take a sip, then another.
“This is really nice,” she says, settling back against the cushioned seat.
I smile. “Glad you like it.”
She places her glass on the table, her eyes locking with mine. “Do you spend much time in Phoenix during the off-season?”
I chuckle. “I try not to.”
Her brow furrows slightly. “Not a fan of the city?”
“No, I like it. But it’s not home.”
She nods in understanding. “I get that. I’ve only ever lived in Hope Creek. I like visiting Phoenix, but I don’t think I could ever live here.”
“There are perks,” I say with a laugh. “Like being able to get tacos at two in the morning. But Hope Creek’s home. I come back as much as I can. I miss everyone.”
“I’m sure they miss you too,” she says quietly.
“Hey, Wyatt!” a voice calls out, and I glance over my shoulder to see a few of the guys from the team walking in. I lift a hand in greeting as they head our way.
“I thought you went home,” Ricky, one of the running backs, says, his gaze drifting from me to Ivy with curiosity.
“Charity event at the Fairmont,” I reply. “Just in town for the weekend.”
He nods slowly, his eyes still on Ivy.
“You gonna introduce us?” Aiden chimes in with a grin.
I smirk. “Didn’t plan on it.”
Ricky laughs. “Trying to keep this one all to yourself?”
My eyes flick to Ivy. She’s sipping her drink, seemingly oblivious to the way every eye has drifted her way.
“Guys, this is Ivy. Ivy, the guys.”
She glances up and offers a soft smile. “Hi.”
“Hey, I’m Ricky,” Ricky says, practically undressing her with his eyes. “How do you know Wyatt?”
“We go way back,” I cut in, more sharply than I intended.
Ricky raises a brow. “You a Cardinals fan?”
Ivy gives me a teasing look. “Not exactly. Football’s not really my thing.”
He chuckles. “So, you're not here for the fame and touchdowns? You actually like him?”
I roll my eyes, but Ivy just grins and throws me a glance. “Wyatt and I are friends,” she says sweetly.
I smile back, a little longer than I should.
Ricky doesn’t miss a beat. “Well, if you two are just friends… maybe I could get your number? Take you out on a real date?”
Ivy’s cheeks go a little pink as she looks at me, and for a second, I think she might say no. I hold her gaze, trying to read her. Is she into this or just being polite?
But then she smiles and holds out her hand. “Sure, why not?”
I watch tight-lipped as she types her number into his phone. There’s no logical reason I should care, but I do. Hell, I don’t even have her number.
She hands the phone back, and Ricky beams. “I’ll call you,” he says. “Enjoy your night.”
He turns to me, clearly smug. “Good seeing you, man. Catch you later.”
I don’t say anything as the guys walk off, leaving just the two of us again. Ricky’s a good guy, but he’s got a revolving door when it comes to women. Always someone new hanging on his arm.
I don’t know Ivy that well, not really, but I can’t ever remember seeing her with a boyfriend. Not that I’m in Hope Creek often enough to know for sure. Still, she doesn’t strike me as the type who’s into flings or casual dates. And Ricky… well, he’s never been one to stick around past date two.
I reach for the champagne and quietly refill both of our glasses, trying to push the odd tension in my chest aside.
“Thank you,” she says, taking the glass from me and sipping slowly.
“Sorry about the guys,” I say after a beat. “They can be a bit much sometimes.”
She waves off the comment with a smirk. “They were fine. Pretty obvious they were trying to get under your skin, though.”
I raise a brow. “You think?”
She rolls her eyes. “Ricky asking for my number? Please. That was all about getting a reaction out of you.”
I hold her gaze, letting my eyes stay on her a little longer than I probably should. She has no idea how stunning she looks tonight, and something about that just makes her even more captivating.
“He’ll call you,” I say.
Her brows lift. “Seriously?”
I nod. “Without a doubt.”
She bites her lower lip. “Damn. I gave him a fake number.”
I laugh, not even bothering to hide the relief that washes over me. I could offer to fix it, but yeah… not gonna happen.
“He’ll survive,” I say with a shrug.
She giggles. “I’m sure he will. Besides, he’s not really my type.”
That piques my interest. I lean in slightly, grinning. “So, what is your type, Ivy? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you with anyone.”
Her smile falters a bit, and she drops her gaze to the flute in her hands. I immediately regret asking.
“Hey,” I say, reaching across the table to brush my fingers against hers. “You don’t have to answer that. I wasn’t trying to pry.”
She shakes her head, forcing a small smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes.
“It’s okay,” she says quietly, moving her hand away from mine.
“I guess I don’t have a type. I’ve never had a boyfriend.
” She takes another sip, her shoulders lifting in a shrug.
“Not something I’m proud of, but I’ve just never met someone that I clicked with.
Hope Creek isn’t exactly overflowing with single guys.
Maybe I should’ve given Ricky my real number after all. ”
I frown, leaning back slightly. “You didn’t miss out. Ricky’s not the guy you call when you want something more than one night.”
“I’m not looking for anything, Wyatt. One night or otherwise. I’m not desperate,” she says, her voice a touch sharper now.
“Hey,” I say again, softer this time. “I didn’t mean it like that. You deserve someone who actually sees you, Ivy.”
And hell, maybe it’s hitting me that I hadn’t. Not really. Not until tonight.