13. Ivy
thirteen
Ivy
Two Weeks Later
I wouldn’t say I’m panicking.
No. I don’t need to say it. I feel it in every part of my body. Queasy stomach. Shaky hands. Exhaustion.
My parents are due back in three weeks and I still haven’t told Cillian the full truth.
I suck . I’m disappointed in myself. With each passing day, the reality of my situation sinks in. The freedom I’ve grown used to is about to evaporate. So is my relationship with the man I’m falling in love with.
The thought is unbearable and there’s nothing I can do to stop it.
Today’s been particularly rough. Hilde stopped by my room and caught me packing a bag for the week and made a point to ask if I “would be sleeping at home anytime soon.” Though I’ve been expecting some sort of blowback, her comment took me by such surprise. I wasn’t sure what to say except to reiterate I was enjoying my time with Emma.
Her disapproving look sent a chill down my spine.
Made me wonder if the jig is up.
Still flustered, now I’m in rush-hour traffic on my way to a Belltown construction site where Cillian is overseeing the latest phase of one of his high-rise development projects. My stress level is through the roof, which isn’t helped by the fact no cars are moving. It would be faster to walk, at this point.
Aaaaaarrrrgh . I’m fucking frustrated. I should be excited to see Cillian, he always has something fun planned for us. Instead, the butterflies, which threaten to burst out of my head, aren’t from anticipation of spending time with my man, but from the crushing weight of my secrets and what will happen when they’re exposed.
Something tells me I’ve run out of time. If I don’t tell Cillian soon…
I can’t even think about the alternative .
In an attempt to distract myself, I rehearse our conversation in my mind. I could be straightforward. Or, try to make a joke out of it. Maybe I could give him a “what if” scenario to see what his reaction is. The reality is, there’s no way to confess and at this point, it probably doesn’t matter. Either way, he’ll be upset.
Upset. Ha !
I’m totally screwed.
Fifteen minutes later, I pull into a stall across from the construction site. It’s unseasonably hot in Seattle this summer, I’m wearing a lightweight, knee-length chambray skirt paired with a soft, sleeveless white blouse and white sneakers. My hair is tied back in a high ponytail to keep it off my neck. He said to dress casual, I hope this is okay.
Once I pay for parking, I stop and take a couple of cleansing breaths. Try to center myself. Prepare for the worst, hope for the best sort of thing. Something catches my eye at the jobsite. I glance across the street and my heart stops.
Cillian is waiting for me, beckoning me over. A smile stretches across his face when our eyes lock. His hard hat tips slightly over his wavy, dark hair, which has grown a bit since we met. It nearly touches the broad contours of his muscular shoulders. He wears jeans and a McGloughlin Construction logo-tee, an outfit identical to the one he wore on the night we met .
I’m so in love with this man, I can’t see straight. Dashing across the street, I leap into his arms.
“My God, you’re a vision.” Cillian catches me effortlessly, whirling me around before setting me on my feet. “You missed Brock, I was hoping to introduce you.”
“Some other time.” Cillian is willing to include me in his world and here I am—the asshole—keeping him separate and secret in mine.
My elation at seeing him comes crashing down to reality, but Cillian doesn’t notice. He takes my hand and guides me to a rickety, industrial contraption of metal and cables. “We’re heading up to the top floor. Don’t worry, this is safe.”
Inside, we’re pressed against each other. Cillian’s hand rests lightly on my back. His warm, reassuring touch always makes me feel more grounded, somehow. I wrap my arms around his waist and bury my face in his chest. Breathe him in. He smells like sunshine, the outdoors, and a bit of musk from working all day.
He kisses the top of my head as we ascend. “Are you okay? You seem off.”
“Yeah.” I nod against his pecs, though I’m far from okay. My mouth opens and closes like a fish several times, ready to spill everything, but no more words come out.
Then the doors jerk open and the expansive Seattle skyline surrounds us. The rooftop scene takes my breath away. I spot a portable card table and a couple of folding chairs positioned on a platform overlooking the waterfront. “ Cillian ! What did you do?”
“Nothing much.” He winds his arm around my shoulder and walks me over to the setup. “I thought it would be nice to have a sunset picnic.”
He pulls out my chair and leans down for a kiss when I’m seated. My hands tremble slightly as I pull Cillian’s face closer, pressing my lips to his with a fervent, intense urgency. I’m desperate to savor this perfect moment because I’m afraid we won’t have many more.
We break apart and a tear spills down my cheek. “Thank you, baby. This is perfect. I’m touched .”
“I’d do anything to make you happy, my sweet Ivy.” Oh, his eyes. Those intense, mesmerizing hazel pools flecked with green and gold find mine, warming me from the inside out.
I can’t do it.
“What are we celebrating?” I watch Cillian uncork a bottle of white wine and fill two plastic cups.
He pulls out two dishes of Alaskan king crab salad from the cooler. “I remember you mentioned you loved this.”
My favorite food. I mentioned it the night we met. My God, it never ceases to amaze how closely he listens to me. He cares about what I think. Goes out of his way to make me happy.
I can’t lose this man. I will do whatever needs doing, but I will not lose him.
“Every day with you is better than the last.” I mask my turmoil with a smile. “I can’t believe you remembered. You make everything special, Cillian.”
“Well, I agree, at least about every day being better than the last.” He sits next to me and takes my hand. “You asked what we’re celebrating. Life, baby. Life. My company’s doing great. We’re final contenders in the biggest project yet and I’m pretty sure we’re going to get it. My family is doing well. But, none of this matters without you. You’re the difference. You make everything better. My life was incomplete until we met. You’re my missing piece.”
Overwhelmed, I murmur, “ Me ?”
“Yes, you.” He takes my hand and kisses it. “You bring this…energy into my life. Being with you makes everything feel more intense, more vivid.”
Even though my lies are a lingering shadow that threaten this perfect moment, I’m not going to shatter the fragile joy we’ve found. “I feel the same.”
“Look, I know you’re heading to Stanford soon and we’ll need to navigate your weird family dynamic. I’ve also been worried about our age difference, and whether we’re in two different stages of our lives.” Cillian’s voice falters slightly, a hint of nerves he never usually displays. “The thing is, I’ve never been more sure about something. I want you and I to be a real couple. Can we make this official?”
Tears prick my eyes, not from his words, but from shame of keeping the secret I can’t seem to spit out. “I want to. More than anything.”
“Then let’s make it happen” He gently wipes a tear from my cheek with his thumb. “Whatever obstacles come, we’ll face them.”
The sincerity in his voice makes my heart swell even as it aches with the weight of my unspoken truth. “I love you, Cillian. I hope it’s not too soon to tell you. I really mean it.”
Cillian’s eyes soften, surprise and warmth flood his features. He tugs me up from my seat and onto his lap. “ Mo shíorghrá . I didn’t want to freak you out, but I love you too. I’ve never felt like this about anyone.”
Shifting so I’m straddling him, with my skirt billowing around us, Cillian’s thick, hard cock presses against my core. I slip my hands under his shirt and glide my palms up his muscled chest and back down to the waistband of his jeans. “I want you. Now. Please …”
“Yes.” His fingers find my pussy and I roll my hips so he can pull my panties to the side. “How perfect would this night be if we come at the same time while the sun is setting?”
In seconds, his jeans are undone and I’m impaled. We move as one, though not in any sort of frenzy. Instead, we stare into each other’s eyes. My arms are wound around his neck, he cups my ass to hold me tightly in place and nudges up into me until I’m as full as can be. One of his hands slides up to my lower back and he presses my pelvis against him. We find a slow, intense tantric cadence and every nerve ending in my clit blooms and pulses with every gyration.
“I love you,” he says as the sun dips below the horizon and the sky turns into a vibrant canvas of orange and pink, reflecting off the glassy waters of Puget Sound. The Olympic Mountains in the distance are silhouetted against the fiery backdrop.
My core spasms and tingles. I lean in until Cillian’s breath mingles with mine. “I love you .”
Our lips connect, but our exploratory, sensual kisses are also deliberately slow, matching the rhythm of our hips. As the last streaks of the sun paint the sky, it’s like we’re the only two people in the world. We climax in pulsing waves, leaving me dizzy.
I love—and I’m loved by—this amazing man.
Moments later, after we straighten our clothes and pack up the remnants of our rooftop dinner, we’re walking hand-in-hand toward the elevator and a sudden, bold thought strikes me .
What if there were a way to protect what we have? To ensure nothing and no one could ever come between us, despite my secrets and the looming deadline.
Gripping Cillian’s hand tighter, I stop in my tracks. My heart beats wildly in my chest. Yet, what I’m about to say feels as right as every step we’ve taken so far.
“You ready to go home?” He presses the button to the elevator.
My entire body buzzes with excitement and nerves. I bounce on my toes and grab his other hand and face him. He tilts his head and looks at me curiously.
“I have a crazy idea.” I thread his fingers with mine.
He pulls me against his body. “Oh yeah? Lay it on me.”
“Let’s get married.”