Chapter Eighteen
“Men are from Earth, women are from Earth. Deal with it.”
George Carlin
Jack
“I can’t believe you remembered that I love the homemade peanut butter ice cream from The Market. I mentioned it once like a million years ago.” Ivy dipped an OREO into the ice cream carton. Her smile had finally returned as we sat close together against the wall in what I now considered our bed.
It helped calm my nerves and kept me from revealing that I’d had a run-in with Sienna at the grocery store. More than a run-in. I didn’t want to think about it.
But I couldn’t stop thinking about it.
I needed to tell Ivy what happened, but she was happy now, and that was all that mattered to me at the moment. I didn’t want to stress her out about anything else. I knew how hard these past several days had been on her. And there was no way in hell I wanted to give her any reason to leave my side.
Would she leave my side if she knew Sienna had kissed me? If she had to deal with the firestorm that would cause if anyone had seen?
I didn’t think anyone had. And if they did, they would have also seen the revulsion on my face when she kissed me, and that I didn’t kiss her back.
Unfortunately, perception and optics mattered more to most people than the truth.
“I remember everything you say.” I kissed the side of her head, reveling for a minute in her. “Are you feeling better now?”
“This is helping.” She held up the OREO, peanut butter ice cream dripping off the edges. “Here, taste.”
I leaned in and caught the cookie between my teeth—along with a nibble of her finger.
Just a taste of her. Though I longed to kiss the crumbs off her lips and do much more.
I didn’t let go immediately, wanting to see how she would react.
She pressed her lips together. Her breath hitched, and those beautiful questioning eyes of hers locked onto mine. But she didn’t pull away.
It nearly undid me.
There were a thousand things I wanted to say to her, but they would have to wait until Christmas morning when I gave her my gift. In the next few days, I would do my best to prep her for the big reveal—that I’d been in love with her all along.
Maybe then I could tell her about my run-in with Sienna, and we could laugh it off. Or maybe now was the right time to say something.
“What do you think?” she stuttered.
Reluctantly, I let her finger go and chewed and swallowed. “Yummy.”
She cleared her throat, quickly shoved the rest of the cookie back in the ice cream carton, and set it carefully off to the side. It was clear from the way she refused to make eye contact that she knew I wasn’t talking about the ice cream.
“Do you want to watch a movie?” She hastily pulled her iPad out from under the covers.
“Sure.” I chuckled.
I found her flustered state funny, but it gave me some hope. And some pause about telling her now about Sienna and that damn kiss.
“Home Alone okay?” Her shaky fingers flew across the screen. “Or have you had enough holiday madness to last you a lifetime?”
I knew it was her favorite Christmas movie, and she’d been trying for years to get me to watch it with her. I’d avoided it at all costs. But things were different now. I wanted to be different. I wanted to make peace with my past and the holidays.
“It hasn’t been all that bad.”
“Really?” She dared a peek at me. “You’re wearing elf pajamas.”
Laughing, I tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “So, maybe your family’s fashion choices have been a bit much, but it’s plain to see how much they do for your community. I think there would be a lot of disappointed people if your family ever decided to dress normally during the holidays.”
“We’ve definitely made our mark.” Ivy grinned.
“You have, and it’s admirable.” Truth was, I envied Ivy. Her parents had created an amazing legacy. Something she could be proud of.
“I’m just glad you haven’t run away screaming yet. I really want you to love the holidays.”
“Me, too.”
That had her face lighting up and her finger pushing play.
“In that case, get ready to enjoy a holiday cinematic classic. But don’t do that thing where you dissect every frame and what the director did or how you would have delivered a line to make it more believable.
Just let go and suspend your disbelief, just like I do when I see you jumping from one plane to another in mid-air. ”
“But I did do that.” I was damn proud of that stunt.
“Yeah, but it wasn’t actually on fire,” she teased.
“What does it take to impress you?”
She bit her lip. “Um . . . knowing that I’m on my period and I needed ice cream and OREOs.” She kissed my cheek and snuggled into me.
My heart pounded like that of a teenage boy facing his crush. Ivy was the biggest crush of my life.
“Noted,” I said, floored. I carefully wrapped my arm around her, hoping not to scare her away. Hoping she would let us have this moment.
I’ll tell her about Sienna later. I can’t ruin this moment.
The 20th Century Fox music was replaced by the Home Alone theme, which even I recognized. Normally, it made me tense—a reminder of everything I’d missed out on as a child. But tonight, I didn’t want to miss out on a thing—especially not on Ivy.
Ivy nestled into me, her head falling on my shoulder just below my jaw. The smell of her coconut shampoo was familiar and dangerous. It made me ache to taste the ice cream and cookies on her lips. But I resisted as I watched the chaos on the screen.
Children ran around everywhere. It looked a lot like Ivy’s parents’ house, though Ivy’s parents definitely had better taste than the McCallisters. What was up with all that wallpaper?
The 90s were an unhinged time.
Just minutes into the movie, Ivy popped up and asked out of the blue, “Jack, do you think I’m doing a good job pretending to be your girlfriend?”
Where did this come from? “What do you mean?”
“I mean, do you think people believe it? Do I seem natural about it? Especially, like, when we kiss? Am I too stiff?” she whispered, embarrassed.
Oh, hell, she had no idea that she’d just erased the last bit of my resolve. She’d handed me an opportunity that I wasn’t sure I could pass up. After all, I wanted her to feel as comfortable as possible as my girlfriend, hoping she’d like to make it a full-time gig.
While I formulated my plan, she looked up at me, wide eyed, nervously waiting for me to answer.
“I appreciate what you’ve done for me, and I know how stressful this has been for you.”
“But?” she asked, already bracing.
“But,” I said playfully, “you’re a little stiff.” Although she softened up every time we kissed and set my world on fire.
“I knew it.” She collapsed against me with theatrical flair.
Play it cool, Jack. Let her steer this and come to the conclusion of how to remedy this situation.
I wrapped my arm around her, my fingers dancing down her arm. “Don’t worry about it. You’re doing a good job. It’s not like you’re a professional actress.”
“Ugh. I knew it. You probably hate kissing me. It must gross you out.”
“Not even in the slightest.”
She paused. “Really?”
With the crook of my finger, I lifted her chin. “I promise.”
Her gaze shifted to my lips. Her smooth cheeks flushed red.
“Well . . . if it doesn’t gross you out, maybe we should practice. You know, just to make sure we’re really selling this fake relationship.”
Bingo. I hit the freaking jackpot.
“It’s not a bad idea.” I played it casually.
“Do you want to give me some pointers?” she asked coyly.
I shook my head, slow and steady. “I don’t think you need any.” I leaned in just enough to make her breath hitch. “Just be yourself, Ivy.”
She smiled, and then her eyes fluttered shut and she fell into me, her lips gently landing on mine.
I let her lead, seeing where she wanted to take this.
At first she was tentative, her lips moving softly over mine. But then her hand met my chest, and her fingers curled into my shirt. She took a breath before her tongue skimmed my lips.
That was all it took. The iPad fell to the side, the movie still playing, and the ice cream melting. But it was all drowned out as I pulled her onto my lap, needing to be as close to her as possible.
Ivy gasped and pressed her body against me, deepening the kiss.
It was as if fire met fire and consumed us.
My hands slid to her waist as hers knotted in my hair. Our tongues danced wildly together. There was no hesitation on her part. Her lips were mine. Her breath was mine. If she was acting, she deserved an Oscar.
Hell, it was the best kiss of my life.
Our tongues tangled in a rhythm neither of us seemed willing to break. Her weight settled against me, warm and real. And when she made that tiny breathy sound in the back of her throat, it took everything in me not to see how far she wanted to take this.
But it all came to a crashing halt when Ivy’s lips slid off mine and she pulled away, dazed, blinking.
“Um . . . ,” she said, breathing hard. “How was that?”
How was that, she asked? I wanted an encore for the rest of the night. The rest of my life.
“I believed it.”
“Good.” She grabbed the iPad and snuggled back against me as if she hadn’t just rocked my world.
And I just let her.
Because if she was acting, I never wanted this scene to end.