Chapter 20
Wes
I’m leaning against the bathroom door waiting for Ivy so we can go back to our table. We’ve been gone for a while, so I don’t doubt they think something is up. No one has banged on the door, so I’m guessing they decided to give us our privacy.
The woman who just tilted my world on its axis is cleaning up her makeup and smoothing her hair in the mirror. Remembering the reasons why her makeup is smudged, and hair is a mess threaten to harden my dick again.
“They’re going to know,” she mutters, then throws her paper towel in the trash can aggressively.
“They already do,” I confirm, amused by her little tantrum.
Ivy shrugs, seemingly unbothered, then holds her palm out to me, waiting. I look at her outstretched hand, and then back to her.
“Yes?”
“My underwear please,” she asks, batting her lashes with a playful smile.
I give her a mischievous smirk, cocking my head to the side and narrowing my eyes at her. “You mean my underwear?”
She bites her lip, grinning like a fool, but I don’t get to hear her reply because my phone starts ringing. I slide it out of my pocket, and glance down at the screen.
“It’s my mom,” I tell Ivy.
“Answer it. Is it Delilah?” she asks, almost frantically.
“She’s probably just calling to say goodnight. She always does when she sleeps over at my parents, they must have let her stay up late,” I tell her soothingly.
I slide to answer, and lift the phone to my ear. “Hey, Mom,”
“Hi. Do you happen to have Burrito in the backseat of your truck?”
I wince.
“Um, I don't know. But if she’s not with you, then probably,” I reply honestly.
Ivy’s eyes widen in horror, and she mouths “Where is she?” and “Is she okay?” while she has my forearm in a deathgrip, nails digging into my skin. I roll my lips between my teeth to suppress my smile.
“Would it be too much to ask for you to bring her?” my mom asks.
“No. Lilah can’t sleep without Burrito. I’ll run her by. Be there soon,” I reply, while looking Ivy in the eye so she understands the context of the conversation. Ivy visibly relaxes, and her shoulders droop.
“Thanks, sweetie. See you soon.”
I hang up the phone, and slide it back in my pocket.
“Delilah left Burrito in my truck. I need to bring it to her.” I really don’t want to leave Ivy right now.
Not right after what we just did in this bathroom.
It feels wrong to leave her behind right now.
“You wanna come with me? Then we can go to my house… I can take you home later. We can get your car tomorrow?”
Ivy goes completely still, her body visibly tense after my suggestion.
“We don’t have to do anything, baby. Just hang out. Only if you want. Or we can just come back to the bar if everyone is still here. Whatever you want.” I don’t want her to think I want to bring her home just to fuck her.
She seems to brush off her tension, and leans in, wrapping her arms around my middle and resting her cheek against my sternum. I squeeze her back and rest my cheek on the top of her head.
“No, it’s okay. You go, and I’ll see you when you get back. I don’t want to leave my car here overnight. And I want to hang out with Soph a little mo– Oh my god! Your hand! I didn’t even clean you up.”
I chuckle lightly and glance down at my already bruised knuckles.
“I’m fine. I promise. You took care of me plenty,” I assure her, winking. She blushes deeper than I’ve ever seen. “I’ll be quick,” I murmur onto her lips, then give her a few chaste kisses.
I grab her hand and open the door, leading us back out into the dark hallway. I lead Ivy down the hall and back into the crowd of the bar. We weave through a few tables, and once our table comes into view, its occupants go wild.
Loud whistles and clapping explode from the foursome sitting down.
Lincoln sticks his index finger and thumb in his mouth and does that loud ass whistle he can do that pierces your ears.
Beau and Maverick give us exaggerated claps over their heads, and I roll my eyes.
Sophie has her arms crossed over chest and is shaking her head, giving us a knowing smile.
When we reach the dumbasses, I worry Ivy will be upset or embarrassed. I’m ready to chew them out, until I feel her move out from behind me and to my side where she dips into a dramatic, but sarcastic curtsy on each leg while lifting the skirt of her dress.
“Thank you, thank you,” she drawls.
I laugh, and it startles everyone but Ivy.
“Holy shit. He laughed,” Lincoln announces.
“Yeah. He does that,” Ivy responds, grinning and poking me in my side.
They all look at each other completely shocked.
“Oh, fuck off. I laugh,” I grumble.
“There he is!” Maverick chimes in.
Ivy walks around the table and sits next to Sophie. I pull out my phone to check the time. I’ve gotta get going. I quickly explain where I’m headed to the others, and round the table to say goodbye to Ivy. I lean over her and brace my hand on the table, turning my back to everyone else for privacy.
“I’ll be back,” I say quietly.
“Okay. Drive safe,” she replies softly, biting her lip.
Fuck.
I lean down, and she meets me halfway for a quick kiss. I can’t get enough of her mouth.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen him kiss someone in public,” I hear Sophie whisper, making Ivy giggle.
Being out in the open with her feels really fucking good.
Giving in to her feels really fucking good.
I don’t want to hide anything, or hold back with her.
Now that I’ve given in, it’s like my heart's a damn runaway train.
I wave to the table and head out to my truck, where lo and behold, Burrito sits comfortably in my backseat, buckled in.
————
When I get to my parents house, I hop out of my truck with Burrito in hand. My dad is already waiting for me on the front porch, arms crossed.
“Sorry to interrupt your night,” he calls out. “She wouldn’t lay down without the dragon.”
I wave him off with a shake of my head as a silent “Don’t worry about it.” I hear the screen door slam open, and a pajama clad Lilah come barreling out of the house, barefoot and hair wild.
“Daddy, do you have Burrito?” she yells, her voice laced with panic.
I lift Burrito in the air, and she grins, running down the porch steps and straight toward me. I quicken my pace, preparing to catch her like always. Mid-stride, her foot catches on something and she goes sprawling on the brick walkway.
I wince.
Lilah wails, probably a little scraped up, and probably really scared. She’s only on the ground for a couple of seconds before I scoop her up to assess the damage.
My dad opens the screen door for me, ushering me in. “C’mon, let’s see what we're dealing with.”
I quickly move into the kitchen, where the best lighting is and set Lilah on the counter. Her deep sobs make my heart squeeze, though I know she’s most likely alright.
“Let me see, bug,” I tell her gently.
She holds her palms out, and little raspberry scratches cover the heels of her hands where she braced for impact.
I inspect the rest of her, but it seems like the only thing that hurts is her hands.
There is a little dirt on her knees, but after lifting her pant legs I see she didn’t break any skin.
“It hurts,” she cries.
I pull her into a hug, and rub circles on her back, trying to calm her. “I know. Let’s get you cleaned up, and we’ll get you bandaids.”
She nods against my chest, and I wait for my dad to return with some antibiotic ointment and bandages. I coax Lilah into letting me wash her hands in the kitchen sink, and then take the supplies my dad brought in. Lilah picks out her favorite character bandaids, and we get her all patched up.
After finally handing Burrito over to my still sniffling daughter, I wipe a stray tear from her cheek. “I was going to leave again. Is that alright? Or do you need me?” I ask.
My mom tries to bribe her with extra T.V. time, but she refuses, only wanting to lie with me. Lilah does this when she gets hurt. She refuses to let anyone soothe her but me.
“Can you stay until I fall asleep?” she asks so sweetly, there’s no way I could decline.
“Of course.” I kiss the top of her head, and walk her upstairs to her bedroom my parents have for her.
I squeeze into her toddler bed, praying the whole thing doesn’t snap in half under my weight. I read Lilah a couple of stories, and rub her back for a while, before she turns over and starts to drift off. We’ve been in here for so long, I can feel my eyes getting heavy too. Then I remember.
Fuck. Ivy.
I’ve been here way longer than expected.
I got so caught up in consoling Lilah, that I forgot I was supposed to go back to the bar.
I told her I’d be right back. Has she tried to call or text me?
I’m sure she got home safe, and my siblings would make sure of it, but I still need to call her. I don’t even know what time it is.
I reach my hand into the pocket I’m not laying on to reach for my phone.
Empty.
As gracefully as I can, I turn my body slightly in the tiny bed to get to my other pocket. I shove my hand in and my fingers brush against something soft. What the hell? I start to pull whatever it is out, but stop when realization dawns on me, and my nostrils flare.
Underwear.
I didn’t give her back her underwear. That was initially the plan when I thought I was going to stay with her for the night, but then I left her at the fucking bar. With no god damn underwear. I grind my molars in frustration, digging further into my pocket for what is hopefully my phone.
Nothing.
Where the hell could my phone be?
I lift my head, and peek over Lilah’s mop of curls. She’s fast asleep. I take that as my cue, and roll out of her bed, dropping unceremoniously to the floor. I hold back a groan, and slowly move to my feet. I grip my lower back, and cringe. I’ve never felt as old as I do when I lay in this bed.
I close Lilah’s bedroom door behind me and make my way down the stairs. I search the kitchen and everywhere I’ve been since I got here.
“What are you doing, weirdo?” my mom asks from the living room, where she’s bundled up in the giant loveseat with my dad.
They’re both wearing their reading glasses with books in hand. Normally, I would hyper focus on how I’m not sure I’ll ever have a love like theirs, but right now I have one mission. Find my phone, and call Ivy.
“Have you seen my phone?” I say out loud to the room, while looking around.
“No. Why? What’s wrong?” my mom asks, starting to sound worried.
“Nothing, I just have to call Ivy.”
“At… eleven-thirty at night?” my dad chimes in, the amusement clear in his tone.
“Yep.” Is all I give them.
“Told ya,” I hear my dad murmur to my mom.
“No, I told you,” she snipes back.
They continue to argue about who told who, what first, while I open the front door and jog down the porch steps to my truck.
My phone isn’t there either. I think back to the last time I had it.
I remember using it to check the time before saying goodbye to Ivy.
I must’ve left it on the table or something.
Great.
I head back into the house to thank my parents and tell them I’ll see them in the morning. I have to get back to the bar to get my phone. Then I need to track down Ivy if she’s not still there. I step inside the front door, and say my goodbyes to my parents.
“So is she your girlfriend? Are you an official couple now? I knew it. The way you looked at her, I just knew it. The way she treats Lilah is something you could have only dreamed of, Wes. She fits in so well–” my mom rambles on, but I cut her off. I need to leave.
“I don’t know, Mom. Maybe. Probably? We didn’t really get to discuss labels after…Nevermind, just I don’t know, but I gotta go,” I reply.
My dad smirks. “After what?”
My mom backhands his chest. “Buck, hush.”
I stare at him blankly. “Good night.”
As I shut the door I hear my dad bark a laugh. “Like father, like son.”
My mom replies, feigning annoyance. “Well apples don’t make oranges.”