Chapter 13 #2
People always assumed we were a couple, and when we were young, it wasn't something we normally corrected, considering not everyone knew about Sarah’s preference for her own gender.
She came out to me as bi-sexual in high school, but always seemed like she had more interest in women.
She didn’t come out to her family until our freshman year of college, and those assholes had more than a negative reaction.
They ultimately disowned their own daughter, and to this day, have had zero interest in getting to know their only granddaughter. But my parents did what they could to fill that void for Sarah. I miss her so much. Not a day goes by where I don’t wish I could tell her what our daughter is like.
I know she would call me an idiot for pushing people away just because I’m scared of losing them, but the truth is, I don’t think I could survive that heartbreak again. I’m not sure what that would do to Delilah, and I sure as hell don’t want to find out.
I glance back down to sneak another look at their affection for one another. I squeeze my eyes shut, and lean my head back against the seat. I can’t shake the feeling that this is hopeless.
I’m a rock being pulled into her orbit with no escape, and I’m finding I have zero desire to resist.
————
We get to the hotel just after five, and the two very opinionated mouths that are accompanying me make it known that they’re starving.
We drop our stuff haphazardly before I take their room service order.
I give Lilah a bath, and pray she doesn’t catch a cold from the airport and plane germs she undoubtedly ingested.
When the room service arrives, we all set up our food on the small table by the window in mine and Lilah’s suite.
Lilah is on my lap, snuggled into my shoulder, and eating her chicken tender half asleep.
Ivy is eating her burger, looking at my daughter with an amused smile on her lips.
It’s quiet in the room, save for the soft hum of the air conditioner.
“What time do you leave tomorrow morning?” Ivy asks, interrupting my thoughts of doing this with them every night.
“Ten. I should be back by six. I’ll do my best to get out of there as soon as I can. I only have three clients, so it should be an easy day, unless I get some walk-ins.”
She waves me off. “No worries. I was going to take Delilah to the indoor pool. Then there’s a children’s museum I looked up. It's just around the corner. Don’t feel you have to rush, we can keep ourselves busy.”
I close my eyes. God damn it. “I forgot her bathing suit. Fuck.” This beautiful, sweet woman has this fun day planned for my daughter, and I didn’t even think to bring her bathing suit.
“Oh. Um, don’t worry. Ikindofboughtusmatchingones,” she says quickly and mumbled, I don’t quite catch what she says.
“What?”
She clears her throat. “I happened upon matching bathing suits that coincidentally were mine and Delilah’s size. They’re in my bag. So it’s covered, don’t worry.”
By the pink climbing up her neck, and how she won’t make eye contact with me, I’d say she’s embarrassed.
My heart nearly bursts. The relief I feel that she has my daughter covered is overwhelming, regardless of how small the gesture might seem.
It feels good having someone back me up.
That I’m not the only one having to remember every single little thing.
I don’t say that, though. I tease her, because I want to see her squirm.
In my most taunting tone, I ask, “You happened upon matching bathing suits, in yours and hers exact size?” I glance down to see Lilah passed out, chicken finger in hand and all. Her head is tipped back against me, mouth open, and snoring. She looks so much like Sarah when she sleeps.
“Yeah,” she says, lifting one shoulder and taking another bite of her food.
She’s trying so hard to be nonchalant.
“And by happened upon, you mean?” I bite down on my smile.
She huffs out a breath, slams her burger down onto her plate, and finally meets my gaze.
“I ordered them, okay?” Her smile is starting to break through.
“When you told me what hotel we were staying at, I looked it up and saw that it had an indoor pool and a water slide. So I got a little carried away, and found us matching bathing suits. I’ve had them for two weeks.
Satisfied?” she says begrudgingly, then starts to laugh.
Oh, she has no idea. I know Delilah has formed a strong attachment to Ivy, but I’m starting to think it goes both ways.
I’m so fucking gone.
I soften my expression, not wanting her to believe I think it was stupid of her to do that. “Yeah, I am.”
Ivy’s eyes slide up to mine for a moment, before focusing on her food again.
“I’m going to go lay her down,” I whisper over Delilah’s head.
Ivy nods in acknowledgment as I stand from my chair and make my way over to the king size bed in the room.
I gently set the tiny snoring sack of potatoes down, and cover her up.
I hear Ivy moving around and cleaning up the mess from dinner.
She stacks our plates and I take them from her to set them off to the side and out of the way.
“I’m going to go shower and get changed,” she says quietly, hiking a thumb over her shoulder in the direction of her room.
“Same,” I reply, standing in the middle of the room and feeling like I don’t know what to do with my fucking hands. They feel like lead weights dangling off my person, and not like the normal limbs I live with and use daily.
“Okay,” she says through a polite smile, then spins on her heel and enters her suite, shutting the door behind her.
When I hear the latch engage, I release a ragged exhale. What is she doing to me?
Our rooms are connected by a single adjoining door, so Ivy has her own bathroom and bedroom. I made sure of that when booking the room. I don’t need to be sharing small personal spaces with her. That would be the thing to tip me over the edge, I know it.
I scan the room for my bag, but don’t see it. I must’ve dropped it in Ivy’s room when we first arrived. We were all hungry and anxious to get settled. I wasn’t thinking about which room was who’s.
I lightly wrap my knuckles on her door, assuming she’s near it, since she just shut it only a few seconds ago.
“Yeah?” she calls through the door.
Taking that as the green light, I swing the door open, and come face to face with what I know will forever plague my thoughts and fantasies.
Ivy’s bare ass.
She’s bent over, peeling her bike shorts off, and the only thing left on her is an almost non-existent purple thong.
“Holy…shit,” I sigh out, barely above a whisper.
I’m absolutely frozen to the spot by the magnificent, round, smooth, peach of an ass in front of me.
It’s only for a second but I catalogue her toned figure like I’m going to be graded on it later. My pulse speeds up, and I begin to harden in an instant. I know I should turn to give her privacy, but it’s as if aliens took over my body, and won’t allow it.
When she hears my voice very clearly not on the other side of the door, she screams.
“Wesley, What the fuck?” She stands and turns, covering her bare breasts with her arms while walking backward quickly to the bed, ripping the comforter off, and covering her body from the neck down.
Her outrage overrides my paralyzation, and I slap my palms over my eyes, realizing the misunderstanding that just occurred.
“You said yeah,” I all but sputter. Thank god Lilah could sleep through a tornado.
“As in, yeah, what do you need? Not come in!” she screeches.
“Fuck, fuck! I’m so sorry, Ivy. You just closed the door, I didn’t know someone could strip that fast. I assumed the yeah was an invitation to come and talk to you. I left my bag in here. I’m so sorry.” I’m still covering my eyes, afraid to see the rage and horror on her face.
I hear her rustle around for a few seconds, then she speaks up. “You can move your hands,” she growls at me.
I lower my hands, but my eyes are still closed.
“Wes,” she barks.
I slowly pry my eyes open, and look down to see Ivy standing in front of me, hands on her hips and her chin tipped up in defiance. She’s being swallowed by a white fluffy hotel robe, and it makes her look like an angry little kitten. I do my best to school my expression.
“I’m so sorry,” I repeat, combing both my hands through my hair over and over. “I just needed my bag.” I scan her face trying to determine how angry she is, and if she’s going to be on the next flight out of here.
We’re locked in a staring contest, and I see her eyes start to pinch and her lips go tight.
At first I think she’s going to cry, and I start to panic.
But then I see her shoulders start to shake, and a loud laugh bursts out of her.
It shocks me, and I flinch. Which only makes her laugh harder.
The clear bubbly laugh has now turned silent, and there are tears running down her cheeks.
It's contagious, and I become infected, starting to laugh with her. I can’t control it. I place my hand over my stomach, doubling over and laughing harder than I have in a very long time.
We’re both in hysterics.
At some point we start to calm down, but the wide smile is still on my face. Ivy is wiping the wetness away from under her eyes, trying to compose herself. Letting out a final chuckle, she lifts one pointer finger and pokes me right in the center of one of my dimples.
“You gave these to Delilah,” she says softly.
I nod. “I hated them til’ she got them. Now I can’t,” I reply, shrugging one shoulder.
She shakes her head. “How could you ever hate them?” she asks redundantly, lifting her other pointer, and doing the same to the other dimple.
My smile starts to dim, the look of affection on her face, sobering me. She takes the opportunity, and squishes my cheeks inward, making me have a fish’s mouth. I let her. I’d let her do anything she wanted to me.
“Well, grab your bag Peeping Tom. You’re not getting another show,” she jokes, effectively bursting whatever little bubble we were just in.
I shake myself out of it, and trudge over to my bag. “I swear, I thought it was safe to come in.” I look at her earnestly now. “I really am sorry, it was an accident. Truly.”
“Well don’t be too sorry, it’s probably the best ass you’ve seen in your life. It’s my best feature,” she quips, batting her eyelashes.
I snort, and step out of her room and into mine. “You’re not wrong.”
I bring my index finger to my temple and take one last look at her. “It's burned in my brain forever. I should thank you,” I tease.
That makes her cackle.
“Pervert,” she chides, then closes the door in my face.
Realizing I’m standing there smiling at the white paint like an idiot, I mentally chastise myself, and make my way to the bathroom. I close and lock the door behind me, and try not to think about a wet naked Ivy in the room next to mine.