Chapter 17
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Wyatt
Ipace the living room, dressed for dinner. There’s half an hour before the car’s due to pick us up, so I’m not expecting Ivy to be ready yet. Despite that, I can’t seem to sit still. I’m overthinking everything about tonight.
Holding her hand earlier, pretending we were a couple, it felt so easy. Probably too easy, and I haven’t stopped thinking about it since.
There were moments today when I caught her looking at me like maybe she’s feeling this too.
Like we’re standing on the edge of something more.
I know I should say something, maybe test the waters, but vulnerability’s never been my strong suit.
I’ve spent most of my life behind the safety net of football, where effort off the field hasn’t exactly been necessary.
But Ivy’s not just anyone. She’s not impressed by stats or stadiums. She sees the real me, and somehow, that’s the scariest part.
Because with her, I actually care how this goes.
The sharp ring of my phone cuts through my thoughts. I pull it from my pocket and see Cleo’s name lighting up the screen. With a sigh, I answer.
“Hey, Cleo. Everything okay?”
“I’ve been thinking about tonight,” she says, her voice brisk. “The charity and the guests all believe Ivy bid on the dinner and won. No one’s expecting the two of you to be… involved.”
I frown. “Okay… and?”
“Maybe go easy on the PDA. No one needs to think you’re dating. We could even spin it and say sparks flew at the dinner. A surprise romance. The media would eat it up.”
She sounds almost excited by the idea, but all I feel is irritation. Because the truth is, I want people to know Ivy’s with me, even if it’s only pretend. I want to hold her hand. I want to touch her like it means something.
“No,” I say firmly. “If I want to hold my girlfriend’s hand, I will. If I want to kiss her, I’ll do that too. Anyone with Wi-Fi and five minutes can find out she’s lived in Hope Creek, the same town I live in, her whole life. No one’s buying that we just met at the auction.”
She’s unintentionally handing us the perfect way out, an excuse not to fake it. But I’m not ready to let that go. I want to stand beside Ivy and pretend she’s mine because, once tonight’s over, I might not get that chance again.
She exhales sharply. “What do you think the charity will say when they find out you asked Ivy to place that bid?”
“I think they’ll be happy to have fifteen grand in their pocket,” I reply dryly.
“You’re making a mistake, Wyatt.”
“I’m not.”
She lets out a frustrated laugh. “What is it about this woman? You’ve never been this difficult before.”
I smirk. “You mean I’ve never disagreed with you.”
“Well, yeah. But this one’s clearly not like the others.”
I sigh, rubbing a hand over the back of my neck. “She’s not.”
“But you’ve known her forever, haven’t you? So, why now?”
I pause. “I don’t know. Suddenly, she’s just… everything.”
There’s a beat of silence before she exhales again. “All right. Your call. But brace yourself, Wyatt. People are going to have questions. The press, especially. Be ready to answer them.”
She hangs up before I can respond. I sink down onto the sofa, the weight of her warning settling over me.
I hadn’t thought too hard about how this would look to everyone else.
But Cleo’s right. As soon as they realize Ivy’s not just some random bidder, the questions will come, and I’m not sure I’ll have all the answers.
I’m in the kitchen, fastening my cufflinks, when I hear the soft click of heels behind me. I turn, and for a moment, I forget how to breathe.
Ivy walks in, and everything else fades.
Her dress is black and floor-length, hugging her body like it was made just for her.
A slit up one side shows me her tanned thigh, but as she turns, it’s the back, completely open and revealing the graceful line of her spine, that undoes me.
Her hair is swept up, leaving all that sun-kissed skin on show, and I’m sure I’ve never seen anything more stunning.
“Ivy,” I whisper, unable to take my eyes off her.
She pauses, suddenly unsure. “Is it too much?”
I shake my head slowly, my eyes still locked on her. “No. Not at all.”
My hands ache to touch her, to run along the elegant curve of her back, but I bury them in my pockets, trying to keep it together. “You look incredible,” I say, my voice rougher than I meant it to be.
Her cheeks flush a soft pink. “Thank you. You clean up pretty well too.” Her gaze drops to my sleeve. “Need a hand with that?”
Before I can answer, she’s stepping closer, taking my wrist in her hands. She fastens the cufflink with careful fingers, and we’re suddenly too close for me to think straight. Her eyes stay on mine, and just like that, everything fades away, leaving only us.
Watching her standing in my kitchen like she belongs here, it hits me. Pretending tonight isn’t going to be easy, despite how much I want it. Because nothing about Ivy feels pretend. It feels like I’m playing with fire.
Ivy
My stomach twists with nerves as the car carrying Wyatt and me pulls up outside the Fairmont Hotel.
As much as I’ve looked forward to this weekend, I’ll be relieved when tonight’s dinner, or more specifically, the media attention that comes with it, is behind us.
Being in the spotlight has never been in my comfort zone.
“Ready,” Wyatt asks as the car door is opened.
I drag in a breath. “Ready.”
He smiles. “Just follow my lead. You got this, okay?”
I nod, hoping he’s right and I don’t make a fool of myself, or worse, him. The last thing I want to do is embarrass him.
He starts to get out of the car, and I quickly reach for his arm. He turns to look at me, concern flickering in his eyes.
“Everything all right?” he asks.
“Just… tell me if I say or do something that embarrasses you, okay? I have no idea what I’m doing.”
He frowns. “Embarrass me? Why would you think you’d embarrass me?”
Heat floods my cheeks, and I look down. I know exactly why. I don’t belong here with him, despite what he says. I’m just a small-town girl who’s in way over her head. “I don’t know,” I lie. “Ash would be handling this so much better than I am.”
He reaches for my hand. “I’m glad it’s you here with me, Ivy. I wouldn’t want it any other way. You’re not going to embarrass me. Everyone is going to want to know who the beautiful woman on my arm is. You’re going to steal the show.”
My eyes widen. “I doubt that,” I scoff.
He smiles warmly. “You have no idea, do you?”
I arch a brow. “No idea about what?”
He shakes his head. “I’ll tell you later. Come on. We need to go.”
He squeezes my hand before letting go and climbing out of the car.
I have no clue what he’s talking about, and I don’t have time to dwell on it as Wyatt opens my door and offers me his hand.
Placing mine in his, I let him help me from the car.
Photographers are already snapping photos when we step out, and Wyatt keeps a firm hold on my hand as he leads me toward them.
We pause, letting a few of them take pictures. The sound of clicking shutters fills the silence.
“Who are you wearing, Ivy?” someone calls out from the crowd.
I feel Wyatt squeeze my hand, grounding me.
“My dress is from a little boutique in Hope Creek,” I answer.
“Hope Creek?” another voice chimes in. “Isn’t that your hometown, Wyatt? Do you two know each other?”
Wyatt nods. “Ivy and I grew up there. We’ve known each other a long time.”
“Are you two together?” someone shouts.
Wyatt chuckles, then lets go of my hand just long enough to slide his arm around my waist, pulling me close. “Yeah, we’re together. It’s new, but it’s going really well.”
“So, Ivy didn’t want you having dinner with someone else, huh?” someone teases, prompting a ripple of laughter through the crowd.
Wyatt looks down at me, a warm smile lighting up his face. “Actually, that was my idea. I want to spend every moment I can with Ivy.” Then he glances back at the photographers with a grin. “Can you blame me?”
He’s putting on quite a show, and I have to remind myself it’s just that; a performance.
Even though it’s felt like something’s changed between us lately, I can’t let myself believe it’s anything more.
He isn’t going to be interested in someone like me.
Any feelings I think I’m picking up on are probably just a side effect of spending so much time together.
Once this weekend’s over, everything will go back to normal.
“We should head inside,” Wyatt says to the photographers with a friendly nod. “I’m sure you’ll still be here when we’re done.”
They laugh, and he slips his hand into mine again, leading me through the crowd and into the hotel lobby.
“You doing okay?” he asks once we’re inside, stopping in front of me.
I nod. “You make it look so effortless.”
He smiles. “Years of practice. Trust me, Ivy, I’m not any more comfortable around them than you are.”
“You’re here!” a voice calls out before I can reply.
Wyatt sighs. “Cleo,” he mutters under his breath, making a face.
I smirk. “Ready to act like we’re madly in love?”
Wyatt pauses for half a second, just long enough to notice. His eyes flick to mine, and something shifts in them, like the words caught him off guard.
He leans down, his breath warm on my ear. “It’s going to be Oscar-worthy, Ivy,” he says, and I can’t help but wonder if the acting’s already happening.
Before I can answer, Cleo appears behind us, and just like that, the moment slips away.
Cleo doesn’t even glance in my direction. Instead, she leans in and presses a kiss to Wyatt’s cheek like I’m not standing right there.
“You remember Ivy,” Wyatt says, looking down at me with a hint of a smile tugging at his lips.
“Of course,” Cleo replies, her tone sugary and fake. “Nice to see you again, Ivy.”
“You too, Cleo,” I reply politely.
She turns her full attention back to Wyatt. “There’s a rep from the charity here. Margot. I think you met her at the Miami event? She’ll want some photos of you both for the website. She’ll find you in between greeting the other auction winners.”
Wyatt nods.
“Can I grab you for a minute?” Cleo says, tilting her head toward the far end of the lobby and not bothering to wait for his answer before walking off.
Wyatt groans. “Damn it. Sorry, Ivy. I’ll be quick, I promise,” he says, irritation clearly creeping into his voice.
“It’s fine. Go talk to her.”
He lets go of my hand and crosses the room after her. I can’t hear what they’re saying, but from Wyatt’s body language, he’s not happy. I’ve only met Cleo twice, but she always seems… tense. Cold, even. I don’t know what her issue is, but it’s not subtle.
A minute later, Wyatt’s striding back toward me, his expression stormy. The moment our eyes meet, it softens.
He slides his arm around my waist and offers a smile. “Ready?”
“Everything okay with Cleo?”
“It’s fine,” he says quickly.
I meet his gaze, but it’s clear he doesn’t want to talk about it.
My gut tells me it was about me. She’s made it obvious she doesn’t like me, and maybe it’s because she thinks I’m the reason Wyatt won’t agree to that reality show, but from what I’ve seen so far, Cleo doesn’t seem concerned about what Wyatt wants, just what’s good for her bank balance.