Chapter 17
Gray
IvyMac: Meet me at 8? At Java Cup?
GrayG: Will do.
One text. That’s all I get from Ivy. I’ve held off from calling her, hunting her down, because I’d promised. But it’s been hell. I’m so twitchy, I could burst out of my skin. I can all but feel Ivy thinking things through. And it terrifies me, because I also feel her slipping away.
I hope it’s simple paranoia that has me tied up in knots. But Ivy asking me to meet her in a coffee shop instead of at her house or mine isn’t a good sign. Like she needs neutral territory. Hell.
I get there early, securing a table in the back corner. Normally not a huge coffee drinker, I’m on my second cup by the time she arrives at eight p.m. on the dot.
The first sight of her steals my breath. It’s that instantaneous—I look at Ivy, and I cannot breathe properly. Those dark eyes, that kissable rosebud mouth, those cheeks that I want to cup as I taste her.
God, I slid my fingers over her sweet, slick clit, all plump and sensitive to my touch. I made her come with my hand.
Heat shivers over my skin at the memory. The tips of my fingers throb, and my heartbeat is in my throat as she approaches, her gaze not meeting mine but focused somewhere around my shoulder. It hurts that she won’t truly look at me. It hurts that she’s so unsure.
I’ve done this to her.
Dressed in black jeans and a gray turtleneck sweater, she also looks as though she’s trying to hide all the skin she can. Fucking hell.
It had hurt more than expected when she’d torn away from me and locked herself in the bathroom. Hope and happiness had crumbled within me. Now there’s nothing but a hollow cavern in my chest. I need to fix this.
On shaking legs, I rise to greet her, fumbling the move when I reach out to... What? Kiss her cheek, give her a hug? I don’t know. I just want to touch her and reassure her that everything will be okay.
None of that matters, because the moment I lean in, she’s ducking into her seat with a quick “Hey.”
She makes a pretense of being worried about spilling her coffee, setting it down with undue care as I sit across from her. But her continued focus on the table sends a punch of dull pain through my center.
“You’re not going to look at me now?” I ask in a low voice.
At that, her head snaps up, her dark eyes wide and pained. “No. I mean, of course. Sorry. I’m just...” She trails off with a bite to her lower lip.
“I know.” Resting my arms on the table, I lean in. “I’m sorry, Ivy. I shouldn’t have—”
“Hey, Grayson,” a guy at my elbow butts in. I hadn’t even noticed him approaching. But he’s grinning down at me as his friend hovers at his side. The bright red university sweaters they’re wearing are my first tipoff as to why they’re here.
The guy slaps my shoulder like he knows me. “Great season, man. You guys are gonna crush it in the playoffs.”
“Go Dogs!” the other guy yells.
More than anything, I want to tell these two to fuck off. Can’t they see I’m talking about something important? But I don’t. Fans are fans and they have my gratitude.
I give them a brief nod. “Thanks. Thanks a lot.”
I try to make it clear that I’m in the middle of something, but one of them wants me to autograph his baseball cap. Quickly I sign it and turn my attention back to Ivy.
Thankfully they amble away.
Ivy watches them go before acknowledging me.
“No, don’t apologize,” she pleads, glancing up at me and then back to her cup. “I shouldn’t have freaked out like that. It was totally immature.”
My hand covers hers, and she flinches. But I don’t let go because I need to touch her. My voice is as soft and comforting as I can make it. “It’s okay, Mac.”
Her shoulders lift on a breath and then she sits back in her chair, sliding her hand from mine as she goes. Her lashes conceal her eyes as she slowly turns her cup in her hands.
For lack of anything better to do, I clutch my cup as well. The heat of the coffee seeps through the cardboard and warms my icy fingers.
I don’t know what to say or how to start the conversation. I open my mouth to try.
“Hey.” A girl is now standing next to me. “You’re Gray Grayson.”
She’s looking at me like I’m a latte she’d like to drink down. Irritation spikes. This is why I didn’t want to meet Mac in public. Not when football fever has hit an all-time high on the campus.
I’m about to give this chick the brush-off when Mac slaps her free hand on the table.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake, Gray,” she says to me in exasperation. “Irritable bowel syndrome is treatable. There’s no need to fear. It’s the rampant gas that you really should worry about, because, dude, it’s bad.”
Her words hang in the air, and I gape at her, shock and horror tingling through my skin. The girl beside us pretty much does the same before her face goes beet red and she backs away from me.
“I...uh...I’ll leave you to your conversation,” she gets out.
I don’t answer. I can only stare at Mac. Part of me wants to strangle her. I can just imagine how fast this little nugget of gossip will spread. I can hear my new nickname: Gaseous Gray.
“So...social annihilation is on the menu today, huh?”
Flushing, she shrugs. “Got rid of her, didn’t it?”
The little shit. I bark out a laugh. Whatever has happened between us, she’s still my best friend. The one person I want to be with most in the world. And I adore her. I’m so gone on her, I don’t know my left from my right anymore. She’s my center line. All thoughts run through Ivy Mackenzie.
I reach out for her, ready to tell her just that. Tell her that I want everything with her. That she is my everything.
But she speaks first, her words coming out fast and tight.
“Things got out of hand. It happens. We’ve been in each other’s pockets, seeing each other all the time. And if we just stepped back and took a break from that, not hang out so much...” She spreads her hands as if to say, problem solved, no big deal.
Take a break. Not be together so much.
Hurt slams through me so hard that my knee jerks, hitting the underside of the table and almost knocking it over.
“Sorry,” I mutter, as she scrambles to keep her cup from falling.
I want to shout at her that this is the worst fucking idea she’s ever come up with. That taking a break sounds like torture. But she’s not finished ripping my heart out.
“And if you’re not always with me, you can...you know...go out. With girls. Hook up or whatever.”
I’d like to think her expression conveys the same misery as I feel. But I can’t be sure. I can no longer think straight.
“Kind of hard to do that,” I snap. “When the entire campus will soon think I have a flatulence problem.”
She cringes. “Right. Sorry. But I doubt anyone will believe it. Or even care. Most women obviously would overlook anything to get to you.”
Oh. Joy.
I don’t give a ripe fuck what other women believe. I don’t want to be with anyone other than Ivy. Her helpful comment makes me want to scream. And then another horrible thought hits me.
“Wait, why are we talking about hookups?” My voice is rising, along with my panic.
Her gaze slides away from mine. “Well... We’re both clearly in need of some sexual relief. Why shouldn’t we find it—”
“Am I cramping your style? Blocking you from all these potential dates you have lined up?” I don’t even know what I’m saying. Panic has me by the balls. She’s slipping away from me, and I can’t seem to hold on.
Her eyes narrow. “You think I can’t get a date?”
“Hey, I did not say that.”
The tension leaves her with a sad sigh, and she slumps a little. “This is getting off track, and we’re sniping at each other, which is not what I wanted.”
I rake a hand through my hair and blow out a long breath through my nose.
“Are you...” I take another breath. “Do you want to go out on random dates?”
I’m going to be sick. I’m going to fucking throw up. All over fucking Java Cup.
“I don’t know. Maybe it’s time that I do.”
Mac. On a date.
The cup in my hand crumples, sending hot coffee splattering every which way.
“Shit.” I jump up, shaking coffee off my hand.
Mac jumps up as well, grabbing napkins to mop the mess, until she sees my hand. “Did you burn yourself?”
She touches my reddened hand, but I snatch it away.
“I’m good.” My throat is closing in on me. I can’t be here. I back away, tripping over the leg of a chair before righting myself.
“Gray,” she says in a soft plea. “I’m just trying to fix things.”
“Use me,” I blurt out.
Ivy stills, the space between her brows furrowing. “What?”
“You want to fuck someone. Fuck me.”
She rears as though I’ve spit on her face. “Are you kidding me?”
“No,” I say, a little desperate now. “You want to have sex. Have sex with me.”
“We. Are. Friends.” She enunciates every word through her clenched teeth as color rises over her face.
“Oh, please, Ivy. You came on my fingers. I think we’re way past just friends.”
Bad route to go. Bad fucking route.
Her face flames red, her nostrils flaring. “You asshole. You think because you got an orgasm out of me that I’m now some sort of easy lay—”
“No, Ivy. No.” Fisting my hands at my sides, I lean in. “That is not what I meant, okay? Just that we’re obviously attracted to each other. And there’s this tension. So why not alleviate it by—”
“No,” she hisses. “Screwing around will ruin everything. Not to mention that you’re one of my dad’s potential clients.”
A sharp breath shoots through my lungs, as if she sucker-punched the air out of me.
“Your dad? You’re worried about my relationship with your dad?”
I let out a strangled curse, and rake my hand through my hair, the urge to rip it out making my hand clench.
The guys had warned me about this, but I never imagined she’d think the same.
Gaze sliding away, her chin firms. “It would make things awkward, complicated between you two.”
“Then let’s make this simple. I won’t pick him as my agent.”
Ivy’s hair swings over her shoulders as she whips around. “No. You can’t do that. I won’t be responsible for him losing you as a client. Do you have any idea how shitty that would make me feel?”
“And what about us? Am I that expendable to you?” Fuck if my voice doesn’t crack.
“Of course not.” She wraps her arms around her middle, taking a step back. “But it’s foolish to enter into a relationship with you if he’s going to be your agent.”
“We’re already in a relationship, Ivy.” My voice bounces over the walls, turning heads, drawing stares.
I put my back between the room and her. “And it’s the most important one of my life.”
The words barely leave my mouth when it hits me just how much I want a relationship with her. Ivy has been my girl all along, the One. I’ve just been too scared, too cautious to fully admit it to myself.
She blinks, her face pale, a bead of sweat breaking out on her upper lip. “I meant a sexual relationship.”
“Sex doesn’t have to mean the end of—”
“But it does! It always fucks things up.” Her wide brown eyes stare up at me. “Please. I don’t want to ruin everything with sex. We just need to cool things down. And it will be the same again. We’ve been in each other’s pockets...”
“Yeah. You’ve said that already.”
Problem is, that’s the only place I want to be. But Mac obviously wants something else. Jesus, but that makes my insides constrict.
I swallow convulsively. Holy hell, but there’s a hot prickle behind my eyes. “Right. Well, I’m going now.”
Before I totally lose my shit.
She doesn’t stop me. I walk out of the coffee shop, each step leaving me colder and colder, until the dark night swallows me up.