Chapter Nineteen
“There are some guys somewhere saying, ‘Yeah, we’re friends.’ No, that’s not true. He’s your friend only because you have made it absolutely clear that nothing else is happening except this friendship we have.”
Steve Harvey
Ivy
“So, tell me all the fifth-grade gossip.” I fastened a styling cape around my niece Poppy. She was my last client of the day.
It was family photo day, and everyone wanted to look their best, so I’d been doing hair since early that morning. Cami Cullen was the photographer, and she was a famously good one.
Her parents, the Jenkinses, were my parents’ closest neighbors. My brothers had played basketball with some of her brothers in high school, and my sister and Cami had played basketball together as well.
Funny side note: Cami had become famous a few years earlier when she’d photoshopped her wedding pictures after she caught her husband cheating.
They’d gone viral. Like, super viral. So she’d made a living cropping exes out of other people’s photos.
She’d even started Ex-File chapters, like support groups for cheated-on exes, all over the country.
She was happily remarried now but still helped people deal with the betrayal of a spouse or significant other being unfaithful. It was admirable.
Jack already looked picture perfect, dressed in dark neutrals per Mom’s instructions, sitting not far from me in the kitchen, grinning at me like we were sharing a secret. I supposed we were.
His eyes danced with the same amusement I had coursing through me.
While I felt giddy, I also felt kind of skanky.
I had totally cheated on our friendship, shamefully using the excuse of wanting to sell our relationship, when all I’d really wanted was to kiss him while we’d snuggled in bed.
I blamed him for being so dang sweet and bringing me a period care package.
The kissing hadn’t stopped there. I’d kissed him when we woke up, claiming I needed more practice. I’d kissed him under the mistletoe in front of my family to show off my skills. Basically, I kissed him every chance I got.
And he let me.
Worse, he played along and kissed me back.
And dang, he was good at it. Jack’s kisses should come with a warning label: Highly addictive, may cause fits of giggles, take you to an out of this world plane, incite delusions of being his real girlfriend, and last but not least, they may ruin the best friendship you’ve ever had.
Was I playing with fire? Absolutely. And I was burning in heaven and hell.
But maybe, just maybe, I didn’t want to be saved. At least not yet. And honestly, I wasn’t sure if I could be. Jack had ruined me for other men. At least for now. I just hoped I hadn’t damaged our friendship.
On the upside, no one was ever going to question this fake relationship again. Paige had even mentioned how proud she was of me and my PDA. Which was a little weird.
Poppy giggled, snapping me back to the moment. I turned my attention to her.
“So, scoop, girlfriend.” I ran my fingers through her golden-blonde hair, the same shade as her mom’s.
“I like my teacher, Mrs. Garcia.”
“Nice. How about friends?” I was especially curious about her bestie, Eden’s daughter.
“Sophie’s the best,” she sang. “I met her at dance class this summer.”
“Oh, that’s fun.” I grabbed my styling wand off the counter near me. “Is she a good dancer like you?”
“Uh-huh. Our instructor told us we’re the best in the class, but we can’t tell anyone else.” She giggled.
“That’s probably a good idea.” I grabbed a strand of her hair and twirled it around my wand.
“Her mom is a really good dancer.”
“Is that right?” I pretended like I knew nothing about Eden.
“Yeah. The best. She’s won lots of awards, and she’s famous.”
“As famous as Jack?”
Poppy peeked at Jack and blushed. Adorable. She probably had a little crush on him. Who could blame her?
“Noooo,” she elongated.
Jack set down his phone and threw me a cocky smile. He loved being the most famous guy in the room. Okay, in the country.
Oddly, he’d been checking his phone a lot more today than usual.
Normally, he never checked his phone around me unless he was waiting to hear about a part or something like that.
I knew that wasn’t the case. He’d said something earlier about nervous energy.
Maybe my accosting him every chance I got was making him twitchy.
“But she’s really nice. Like, so nice. And she makes the best food. I love going to their house,” Poppy added.
I grabbed another strand. “I’m so glad to hear that.” Now, if I could only think of a way to get Eden and my brother back together. “Do you spend a lot of time over there?”
“Yep,” Poppy chirped, swinging her feet under the chair. “Sophie’s mom helps me with dance and my homework. She even teaching me how to cook.”
“She sounds amazing.”
Poppy nodded, agreeing.
“And your dad picks you up from their house?”
Jack flashed me a side-eye that said he knew what I was up to. A little matchmaking scheme in the works. Listen: I got robbed as a teenager. Eden should have been my sister-in-law, and from the sound of it, Poppy’s mom. I was just trying to right a wrong.
“Most of the time. Sometimes Grandma does if Dad is working.”
That had to be torture for my brother. But I could work with this. Maybe I would get my mom involved, since I lived in Texas.
“Any cute boys at school?”
Poppy giggled. “Maybe.”
“Ooh, maybe. Tell your aunt.”
Poppy and I chatted happily for the next hour while I dolled her up. I learned all about Diego, Liam, Esteban, and Harrison. Apparently, my niece and Sophie were boy crazy. And fifth grade sounded dramatic, like an episode of 90210, but with glitter gel pens and designer backpacks.
When Poppy looked like a princess, she jetted off to get changed. That left me with Jack, who was once again staring intently at his phone. It started to make me nervous. Had the online trolls converged once again?
“Everything okay? Any more posts about how I’m an elf that probably needs to stay on your shelf?” I rolled my eyes, thinking about some influencer’s post earlier in the day. Her hashtag was #pickmeinsteadmrholiday.
Jack startled, stood, and shoved his phone in his pocket.
“Everything is fine, darlin’. And don’t listen to the trolls. They don’t know what the hell they’re talking about. They’re just jealous of you.”
I looked down at my smock. I was a hot mess after doing hair all day. “Yeah, all the girls wish they could be me.”
Jack sauntered my way and reached for my hand. “They would be so lucky.”
I gave him my hand and let him reel me in, like I wasn’t causing a personal crisis.
Seriously, I had issues. Skanky, friend-cheating issues.
I had thought that maybe Cami could help me, but I was cheating on myself, not a partner.
But there was just something so comforting about being in Jack’s arms. He made me forget for a moment that there were people all over the world hating my guts right now.
Let them hate, I thought as my head fell onto his chest and I breathed in his musky scent. There, I felt safe and warm.
Jack said nothing for several beats, just stroked my hair, knowing exactly what I needed.
But then . . . he hit me with a one-two punch.
“Ivy, I’ve been thinking.”
He paused.
The pause made my heart stop.
Was he ready for the charade to end? Did he want to break up with me? He knew. He knew I was falling, and he was saving us. This was good. So good. No more kissing. No more pretending that we were anything but best friends.
“Is it time to break up?” I whispered, hoping no one was nearby. No need to dampen anyone’s spirits. My family clearly thought he belonged with us. I was starting to think so too. You know, in a very friendly way.
“No,” he said adamantly. “Actually . . .”
Another pause.
I leaned away just enough for us to lock eyes.
With our gazes on each other, he relaxed and smiled. “As I watched you style your family today, I was thinking you could be my personal hair and makeup stylist.”
I giggled, thinking of myself on set with him. Living the Hollywood life. “You’re joking, right?”
“Ivy,” he said my name tenderly. “This is a serious offer. I’m tired of our long separations when I’m on location, and there’s no better stylist than you.”
My brain went fuzzy. He was serious about this? “What about Muse and Mane and all my clients?”
Not that I was considering his offer. Well, maybe I was entertaining it a little, even though it was insane. Jack and I together all the time. That would be dangerous to my heart. To our friendship.
And I wouldn’t just be with Jack. I would be working for Mr. Holiday. Sure, I liked that guy a lot, but his world was already trying to swallow me whole and then spit me out.
Jack’s hand skimmed down my cheek, soft but deliberate, his gaze tender yet heated.
“They’ll be there waiting for you,” he murmured. “Please, Ivy. Just think about it.”
I barely had time to process the words because before I could respond, his lips found mine. And he wasn’t kissing his fake girlfriend. He was kissing me—Ivy. His best friend. But it wasn’t a friendly kiss.
This didn’t feel like pretend.
It felt oh so real.
The second his mouth moved against mine, slow and sure, I felt his kiss everywhere.
Heat curled low in my stomach, a slow, dizzy unraveling. His hands anchored me, one at my waist, one splayed against my back, pulling me closer, holding me steady.
And then—his kiss deepened.
The world blurred.
Thoughts scattered.
Everything I thought I knew came into question. But none of those questions were answered.
“Cami’s here.” My dad’s words thundered through the cavernous kitchen.
Jack and I broke apart like we’d been caught doing something we shouldn’t have. Maybe we had.
Wild-eyed, heart relentlessly pounding, I stared at Jack, wondering what had just happened.
“You all right, honey?” Dad asked.
I wasn’t sure if I was, but what was I going to say? How could I be all right when I was pretty sure I’d just made out with my best friend? This was not a drill. This was the real thing.
“Yes, of course. I need to go change my clothes.”
And maybe rethink all my life choices.
“I’ll go with you,” Jack was quick to say.
That was a good idea. We definitely needed to talk. Lots of talking.
Dad nixed that. “Actually, I need your help, Jack.”
I wondered if my behavior was worrying him. Or if he was just over the PDA.
Jack wouldn’t and couldn’t refuse. “I’d be happy to.” But before he left with my dad to do who knows what, he kissed my cheek and whispered, “See you in a minute.”
I nodded numbly, my pulse in shambles, not sure if I remembered how to breathe properly.
What had we just done?
Whatever it was, it wasn’t safe. Not safe at all.