Chapter 14
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Wyatt
Iwake the next morning after a restless night, the weight of Ivy’s suggestion still sitting heavily on my chest. Pretending to date her might keep Cleo off my back, but it feels like I’ve wandered into dangerous territory.
I want to touch Ivy for real, and I know the second I do, there’ll be no going back.
When this whole act ends, how the hell am I supposed to just walk away?
Then I remember it’s Ivy’s birthday. Not that I could ever forget.
I slip out of bed and head to the bathroom, already deciding I want to make her breakfast. She made mine last week, so it’s only fair I return the favor. Once I’m done, I pad quietly into the kitchen, careful not to wake her. Pancakes feel like a safe bet; I know she likes them.
I make a stack for both of us, then grab the small pack of birthday candles I picked up earlier in the week. After drizzling golden syrup over the top, I press a single candle into the pancakes and light it.
I cross the apartment and hesitate before giving her door a light knock.
I probably shouldn’t be barging into her room, but I want to wake her up with pancakes.
When there’s no answer, I pause, then push it open.
My stomach does an involuntary flip at the sight of her still fast asleep, the comforter half-draped over her.
Her tank has ridden up slightly, revealing a glimpse of her flat, toned stomach, and despite knowing I shouldn’t, I can’t tear my gaze away.
I sit carefully on the edge of the bed, taking a moment to look at her.
Her dark hair is spread across the pillow, and she looks stunning, her long lashes casting soft shadows on her cheeks.
She looks so content, I almost feel guilty waking her.
But the candle won’t last much longer, and I want her to make that wish.
Reaching out, I rest my hand lightly on her shoulder, her skin warm beneath my fingers. “Ivy,” I say quietly, brushing my fingertips over her arm. “Wake up, birthday girl.”
She stirs, a sleepy smile pulling on her lips as she stretches her arms overhead. My gaze dips to where her tank lifts with the motion, revealing more of her body, and yeah, I’m only human, so I can’t help but stare.
I tear my eyes away just in time as hers flutter open.
“What’s this?” she asks, her voice husky with sleep, her gaze landing on the stack of pancakes in my hands as she slowly pushes herself upright.
Her hair’s a little wild and her face is still soft with sleep, but damn, she’s perfect.
“Birthday breakfast,” I say, holding out the plate. “Happy birthday, Ivy. Make a wish.”
She grins, surprised. “You made me breakfast?” I nod, and she laughs. “I didn’t even know you could cook.”
“I’ve got a few hidden talents,” I say with a grin. “Now, come on. Make that wish before the candle gives up on us.”
She closes her eyes, lips curving as she leans in and gently blows out the flame.
“What did you wish for?” I ask, handing her the plate, along with the fork I grabbed earlier.
She gives me a teasing smile. “If I tell you, it won’t come true.” Then, more softly, her eyes on mine, she adds, “And I really hope it does this year.”
I swallow hard, wishing like hell I knew what that wish was. Maybe after a couple of glasses of champagne tonight, she’ll be in the mood to share.
“These pancakes are so good,” she says, clearly surprised after taking a bite.
I laugh. “Don’t sound so shocked.”
She shrugs, grinning. “I just never pictured you as the cooking type.”
I raise a brow. “Let’s not get carried away. I can handle pancakes, not a five-course meal.”
“Are you not eating?”
“I am,” I say, standing. “I’ll grab mine.”
“I’ll come with you,” she says, pushing the comforter aside and slipping out of bed.
I try not to let the disappointment show. I’d imagined us having breakfast right here, her still wrapped in the covers. It’s a stupid thought; she’s not my girlfriend. But watching her move around my space like she belongs here feels like enough… for now.
She pads barefoot across the room, and I follow her into the kitchen, trying not to let my eyes stay on her too long.
I grab my plate and follow her to the couch, where she curls up cross-legged with her pancakes like it’s just another lazy morning.
I can’t help but think how different this place feels with her in it.
Like somehow, having Ivy here turns four walls into something more.
I’ve always known it’s the people who make a home, not the building, but this morning just cements that.
“They were amazing, Wyatt. Seriously. Thank you.”
I smile, standing to take her plate. “Anytime. Want some coffee?”
“I can get it,” she says, already starting to stand.
“Don’t move. It’s your birthday. I’ll get it.”
She laughs, easing back down. “Careful, I could get used to this. I might have to spend every birthday with you.”
My chest tightens at that, and I laugh lightly as I head to the kitchen before I say something I shouldn’t, because I’d be more than okay with that.
I flick the coffee machine on and grab two mugs from the shelf.
As I wait, my eyes land on the small, light blue gift bag I left on the counter the night before.
I’d picked out something for her, jewelry.
It felt right in the moment, but now I’m second-guessing myself.
Is that too much for just friends? Maybe jewelry crosses some kind of line. Maybe I’m overthinking it.
Letting out a quiet groan, I pour the coffee, making hers the way she likes it, remembering from last weekend that it’s creamer and two sugars.
On impulse, I grab both mugs and the small gift bag from the counter.
Screw it. I want to give it to her, and I’m hoping she might wear it to dinner tonight.
Back in the living room, I hand her the coffee and sit beside her.
“Thanks,” she says, curling her fingers around the mug and blowing on it.
“I, uh… got you something,” I say.
She blinks in surprise, setting her mug down. “Wyatt, you didn’t have to–”
“I wanted to,” I cut in, holding out the little blue bag.
Her eyes flick from my face to the bag, then back again. They widen. “Wait… is that a Tiffany bag? You got me something from Tiffany?”
I laugh. “Only one way to find out. Open it.”
She bites her lip, then slowly takes the bag from me. Her fingers dip inside and come out with the signature blue box.
She exhales with a quiet gasp. “Oh my God, you did get me something from Tiffany.”
I shrug, trying to play it cool. “You gave up your birthday to be here with me. The least I could do was get you something good.”
She shakes her head. “I didn’t give anything up, Wyatt. I’ve been looking forward to this weekend since the auction.”
Her words hit me right in the chest, and I can’t help the grin that stretches across my face. “Yeah? I’ve been looking forward to it too.”
We look at each other for a second before I remember why I’m holding my breath. “Okay, now open it,” I say with a laugh. “I need to know if I picked the right thing.”
She smiles. “I already know I’m going to love it.”
She opens the box slowly, and the moment her eyes land on what's inside, her mouth parts in surprise. The way her expression softens and her eyes widen tells me everything. I picked the right thing. I finally let out the breath I’d been holding.
“Wyatt…” she breathes, reaching out to touch the delicate platinum chain and the single diamond pendant nestled inside. “It’s stunning.”
“You like it?” I ask, even though her face says it all.
“Like it? I love it. You really didn’t have to do this.”
“I know,” I say. “But I wanted to.”
She looks up at me, her voice barely above a whisper. “Thank you. I don’t even know what to say.”
“You don’t have to say anything,” I tell her. “I just thought… maybe you could wear it tonight, to the dinner.”
Her hand closes around the box. “I’m wearing it all day,” she says, shaking her head like she still can’t believe it.
I smile. “We should probably get moving. The butterfly conservatory’s booked for eleven.”
“Right.” She nods, still holding the box like it’s made of glass. “I’ll hop in the shower.”
She stands, then pauses. Leaning down, she presses a soft kiss to my cheek. Her lips are warm, staying for a moment longer than expected.
“Thank you. Again,” she murmurs before disappearing down the hall.
Ivy
I close the bedroom door behind me and lean against it, exhaling slowly.
What just happened?
Did Wyatt seriously give me a Tiffany necklace for my birthday? I glance down at the box still in my hand as if I need proof. But there it is, beautiful and impossible to ignore.
I love it, but why would he buy me something like this? Aside from my house and car, it might be the most valuable thing I own.
My phone rings from the nightstand, pulling me out of my thoughts. I cross the room and pick it up, smiling when I see Ash’s name flash on the screen. I swipe to answer and bring the phone to my ear.
“Hi, Ash,” I say, sitting on the edge of the bed.
“Happy Birthday, Ivy!” she practically yells, and I can’t help but laugh.
“Thank you.”
“I hope my idiot brother made you breakfast. I still feel bad you’re there with him instead of here.”
“He made me pancakes,” I say, a little smile tugging at my lips. “He won’t let me lift a finger.”
“Seriously?” she says, clearly shocked. “I didn’t even know he could make pancakes.”
I chuckle. “Apparently, he can. And they were really good.”
“Did he get you a gift?”
I pause, suddenly wondering if she already knows. Maybe he ran the idea by her. But somehow, I doubt it. I can’t imagine Ash suggesting a trip to Tiffany’s.
“I need to tell you something,” I say carefully. “But only if you promise, for the next few minutes, to forget that we’re talking about your brother.”
There’s silence on the other end. I pull the phone away to check the call hasn’t dropped. Still connected.
“Ash?” I prompt.
“I’m here,” she whispers, and I can hear the effort it’s taking her not to squeal. I’m grateful. I need my best friend right now, not Wyatt’s sister.
“So… Wyatt did get me a gift,” I say. “But he didn’t mention anything to you? He didn’t ask for advice?”
“Nope. Not a word,” she says quickly. “Why? What did he get you, Ivy?”
I blow out a breath, bracing myself. “A diamond necklace. From Tiffany.”
There’s a beat of silence, then a shriek. “What?! Holy shit.”
“It’s a lot, right? It’s not just me reading too much into this?”
“No, Ivy. That’s huge. That’s… wow.”
I fall back onto the bed and stare up at the ceiling, my thoughts spiraling.
Looking back over the past couple of weeks, there have been moments, small at the time, but now they feel like something more.
The way his eyes have lingered just a beat too long.
That comment he made about me being more real than anyone he's ever met… and then calling himself out of my league. He’s held my hand more than once.
Then there was the elevator, when I completely broke down and he didn’t hesitate to pull me into his arms.
And the Ferrari. He brought it home like it was nothing, but he knows it’s my favorite. That wasn’t a coincidence.
Still… this can’t mean anything more, can it? And if it does, if there’s even a hint of something there, why hasn’t he said anything?
“Ash, you didn’t tell him about my teenage crush, did you?” I ask quietly, the question slipping out before I can stop it. She’s always been desperate to play matchmaker; maybe it came up.
“No, Ivy. I would never do that to you,” she says firmly.
I sigh, scrubbing a hand over my face. “Maybe he’s just being kind. Maybe he’s just... grateful I’m helping him with the charity event. That’s probably all this is, right?”
“I mean… maybe,” she says slowly. “But has anything happened between you two? Even a little?”
I hesitate, and she latches on to it instantly.
“Oh my God, something did happen, didn’t it?” she says, her voice rising with excitement.
I shake my head quickly. “It’s barely anything,” I insist, then walk her through the lingering looks, the elevator breakdown, and all the small things that suddenly don’t feel so small.
“Ivy, are you kidding?” she exclaims. “He likes you. I’ve never seen Wyatt act like that with anyone. And the necklace? Come on! I got a gift card for my birthday. Don’t get me wrong, Wyatt was generous, but it wasn’t Tiffany generous!”
I groan, the weight of last night’s plan crashing down on me. Suggesting we fake-date to get Cleo off his back felt like a simple fix. But if Ash is even halfway right, this is only going to blow up in my face.
“What’s wrong?” she asks, more gently now.
“His publicist is trying to rope him into some celebrity dating show.” I sigh.
“And I may have blurted out that we were dating, thinking it would get her off his case. Turns out she’s going to be at the dinner tonight, so now we’ve got to pretend to be a couple.
” I pause, rubbing my temple. “Pretending to be in a relationship suddenly feels… a lot more complicated.”
Ash sighs. “Yeah, I can see how that might get weird.
“Do you like him?”
I close my eyes, letting the silence stretch for a beat too long. “I don’t know,” I say quietly. “I can’t tell if I actually have feelings for him, or if I’m just caught up in the attention… in the idea that someone finally sees me.”
“Ivy,” she says, her voice filled with concern.
“I’m fine,” I lie, doing my best to keep my voice steady. I’ve probably got it completely wrong anyway, it wouldn’t be the first time. It’s not like I’m good at reading guys. He’s likely just being nice. That has to be what it is. “I should go. We’re heading out soon.”
“I know you’re thinking about what happened in college. This isn’t the same, Ivy. Don’t let that one bad experience ruin something good.”
I hesitate. “I’m trying, Ash,” I whisper. “I really should go.”
“You’re sure you’re okay?”
“I’m good, I promise. I’ll call you later.”
There’s a pause on the other end. “Okay… I’m here if you need me.”
“Thanks, Ash. Talk soon.”
“Bye, Ivy.”
I end the call, fully aware that I haven’t convinced her for a second.
I know she sees right through me. She knows I’ve been quietly hoping for something genuine.
Something like everyone else seems to have.
And no matter how much I told Wyatt I’m not desperate, sometimes it really does feel like I am.
I don’t know if what I feel for him is real or if I’m just clinging to the first spark I’ve felt in a long time, especially when it’s coming from the one person I never thought I’d feel it with.