9. Ivy #2
“I’m sorry about yours,” I reply, and he huffs, looking straight ahead instead of at me.
“They’re the worst,” he surmises, and I nod.
“Always.”
His fingers tighten around mine as a thought comes to mind. “Any hint about what’s going on with Archer’s father and your mother?” I ask, and he grimaces, dragging a hand down his face before he turns to look at me.
“Nothing yet. But that’s not a topic for now,” he promises, and for the first time, I don’t get the sense that he’s holding anything back from me. But it doesn’t change the way my stomach clenches with confusion.
“It’s not?”
He shakes his head. “No, right now I want you to tell me your favorite color.”
My eyebrows rise in surprise. “Why?”
“Because, Ivy Hayworth, you are my fated mate, and I want to know you.” His gaze collides with mine, stealing my breath as I press my lips together nervously.
“Stop swooning her,” Sax hollers from behind us, and I fight against the grin threatening to curl the corners of my mouth.
“Maybe she likes it,” Teddy grumbles back.
“Maybe she deserves it,” Baron adds, making my heart flutter.
Instead of declaring what I feel I do and don’t deserve, I focus on the original question.
“Once upon a time, I would have said pink,” I admit, my hand tightening around Teddy’s this time.
“And now?” he presses.
Tingles dance over my skin as I dare to look at him. “Now I’m feeling more… orange or red.”
He nods, a wide smile on his face. “Just like mine is blue, but not just any blue, the deep, dark kind that you can only see at the bottom of the ocean,” he admits. “It’s your magic, Princess. It’s a part of you, and it has a special way of bringing your true self to the surface.”
I bask in his words, letting them swarm my thoughts as we head inside the main academy building and straight to the dining hall.
The second we head inside, I spy my friends at their usual table. Meadow notices me first, waving frantically, and I grin.
“Are you sure you don’t want to sit with me?” Teddy complains with a pout, turning to face me, and I roll my eyes.
“I’ll see you later, Teddy,” I muse, making his pout worsen.
“I need a parting kiss to survive without you, Princess,” he declares, making my heart race as his free hand cups my cheek and he leans in closer.
I can sense people staring at us, more than just my hated mates and friends, but if Teddy notices it, he doesn’t seem to mind.
“Claim me with your sweet mouth in front of all these people,” he whispers, and my teeth sink into my bottom lip as I realize he’s just as aware of the audience we’re attracting as I am.
But instead of shying away, he’s basking in it.
“You know you want to,” he adds, making it impossible to fight the nervous smile threatening to split my face.
My body moves on instinct, and all I can do is buckle up for the ride, eliminating the remaining distance between us as I press my lips against his.
It’s sweet.
It’s intoxicating.
It’s everything.
I pull back faster than necessary, slipping from his grasp before I embarrass myself any further, and hurry over to my friends.
“Whore.”
The grunt comes from my right, snapping my attention, and it’s no surprise that I find Bonnie seated with her fated mate, head dipped as she sneers. She’s not looking at me; she can’t, but I know her jibe was aimed at me.
I falter for half a second, a response on the tip of my tongue, but I swallow it, opting to ignore her existence since I’m sure it will piss her off more.
Her random outbursts say more about her than they do about me.
Meadow rises to her feet, distracting me from my thoughts as she barrels toward me, wrapping her arms around me in a warm embrace. “It’s been forever,” she insists, and I hum in agreement, taking my seat beside her once she lets me go.
All the while, I can sense four sets of eyes aimed my way, and it takes everything inside of me to pretend I don’t.
I might be working on forgiveness, but I’m always working on me too, and that has to take precedence.
“We need to lock in on girl time,” Meadow declares as I choose my food.
“Absolutely,” I agree, opting for the buffalo chicken sandwich and fries with a bottle of lemonade.
“I could do with a sprinkling of Greta’s greatness,” she adds, turning my attention to her.
Her eyes crinkle at the corners, sadness shimmering ever so slightly in her dulled orbs.
“Is everything okay?” I ask, and she nods, nipping at her bottom lip.
“It’s my mom’s birthday next week, and it’s… hard,” she admits.
Toby places a hand on her thigh in silent comfort as I shuffle closer and wrap my arms around her shoulders.
“I’m sorry,” I breathe, and she offers me a watery smile when I lean back.
“It’s okay, I just, I need… I don’t know what I need. It doesn’t seem to get any easier,” she admits with a sniff.
Glancing between my friend and her mate, I sense the helplessness buzzing through Toby as his pleading eyes beg me to find the right answer. Unfortunately, I’m not well-equipped for these kinds of scenarios, since it’s only ever really been Hugo and me.
Instead of leaning on past experiences, I look inward, considering what it is I would hope for in a moment like this.
Although that can’t be all that accurate because my father’s dead, I watched it happen with my own eyes, and I felt nothing but freedom.
That’s not what she’s dealing with, and for a split second, I’m a little jealous of the sensations she must be feeling, but I quickly berate myself.
This isn’t about me.
It’s about my friend.
Clearing my throat, I squeeze her arm in support. “Do you want to remember her or forget the pain for a while?” I ask, and her nose wrinkles for a moment as she shrugs.
“Both?”
“Okay, then how about we make a plan to celebrate her one afternoon this weekend, and have a little get-together to forget it all too,” I offer, and her eyes widen, the familiar softness returning as she places her hand on mine.
“You are the best friend I’ve ever had.”
I scoff. “That must be bad because I’ve been lousy,” I admit, and she rears back.
“You haven’t,” she insists.
“Regardless, we’ll make a plan. Whatever works for you, I’m here.”
“What if all I need is some juicy gossip about what’s going on between you and those fated mates of yours?” she asks, wagging her eyebrows at me teasingly, and I roll my eyes.
“Then I’d tell you that you’re insane. Or I am, because I’m considering it.”