Chapter Nineteen #3
“We’re not talking about that,” Grant said, not wanting her to discover the mess he’d made of himself. He really was like a teenager again. He rubbed a hand up and down her back. “Are you good?”
He felt her smile against his collarbone. “I’m great.” She pressed a kiss to his rapid pulse.
“So if dry humping is the date three activity, what should have happened on dates one and two?”
“Hand jobs and blowjobs.”
“I take it back. Those weren’t dates at all. Want to get dinner?”
Ivy punched his arm with all the force of a sleepy kitten. Grant chuckled and kissed her forehead.
“I need to go inside before my parents wonder why your truck is idling in the street,” she said without much conviction and no attempt to move.
“Your parents? I’m scared of my parents coming out here. My dad would tell me I was ruining my truck and I’d never hear the end of it.”
Ivy sat up and stretched, her chest rising to meet his face. Getting yelled at by his dad seemed worth it if he could catch a glimpse of her boobs.
“What are you doing tomorrow?” he asked.
Ivy combed his hair with her fingers. “I don’t know. It depends on if Tony absconds with Brad again. It’s his last night in town.”
“We could all do something together,” he said, and added, “not a chill hangout. A double date. Emphasis on date.”
“Making yourself clear now?” She grinned.
“I want to find out what happens on the fourth date.”
Ivy leaned in close, her lips hovering over his. “It’s a very, very intense…” She let the thousand potential conclusions to that sentence dangle between them like a shimmering Christmas ornament. “Personality test.”
“I think that was supposed to scare me, but you don’t know the things I’d do to spend time with you.”
“Like what?”
“You know in 10 Things I Hate About You when Heath Ledger sings on the bleachers? I’d do that, only wearing my underwear and the Bucky Beaver head.”
Ivy laughed. “If you’re wearing the mascot head, no one will know it’s you.”
“Okay, then I’ll wear everything but the head.” Grant smiled. “I’d shovel the street with a spatula to hold your hand.”
“You’re ridiculous.”
“You don’t know the half of it.”
They kissed a while longer, slow and steady, exploring and enjoying, until Ivy said her hips were cramping up and she crawled back over the center console to the passenger side.
“You could have used my door,” Grant pointed out.
“And have to explain why I got out on the driver’s side? Oh, no. Someone on our street is watching us right now. With the fogged-up windows, we have plausible deniability.”
“Why would fogged-up windows give us plausible deniability?”
“Because they can’t see inside.”
He struggled not to laugh at her reasoning.
“Why is your face like that? It makes sense,” Ivy argued.
“If you say so.” Grant leaned across the center console and kissed her softly. “Text me when you get inside so I know you made it home safely?”
“What could possibly happen to me between here and the door?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. You could slip and fall, an icicle could come off the gutters and skewer you, there could be a sudden blizzard and you could get lost and we’d find you frozen to death in the bushes weeks later.
” He frowned thoughtfully. “On second thought, you should come back to my place, where it’s warm and safe. It’s cold and dangerous out there.”
“Ha-ha.” She patted his cheek affectionately and then zipped up her coat. She held out her hand. “Give me your phone.”
Grant handed it over without a question. He’d have given her the keys to his apartment if she asked. She tapped away for a moment, then passed it back.
“If you really want to do something tomorrow, text me.”
Grant waited the very cool, casual, unaffected amount of time it took for her to shut the door to his truck before he unlocked his phone and stared at her newly added contact like it was the golden ticket.
Grant: I had a great time tonight. Would love to have a good time tomorrow, the next day, and the day after that.
Ivy: So you’re going to be done with me by Wednesday? Trying to plan my weekend.
Grant: You told me to be clear so I’m being clear: If you’re in town, I want to spend time with you.
Grant leaned close to the steering wheel to watch Ivy walk up her front porch steps. If he’d ever had a singular doubt that he had it bad for her, this cleared it up. She paused at the top step to check her phone, and then she looked back at his truck. He rolled down the passenger window.
“You sound desperate,” she shouted to him.
“That’s because I am,” he shouted back. “Not ashamed, either.”
Ivy laughed, and Grant wished he’d recorded it, because he wanted that to be his alarm. What a joy it would be to wake up to that sound every morning.
“Go home!” Ivy shouted between peals of laughter.
“I’m not done watching you walk away.”
She shook her head but couldn’t stop smiling. “You’re ridiculous.”
His wide smile pushed the limits of his face. “Never said I wasn’t.”
Ivy finally went inside. Once the door closed, Grant pulled away from the curb, feeling like every triumphant song that had ever been put on a movie soundtrack.