Chapter 19
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Ivy
Wyatt’s hand is still wrapped tightly around mine as we wait for the photographer.
He’s fully committed to this whole fake relationship act, and he hasn’t stopped touching me since we stepped out of the car.
Just little gestures that feel so real it almost hurts.
It makes something in me ache, because I know I’m not even close to having anything like this with anyone.
And it makes me realize I want that so badly.
After posing for what feels like a hundred photos, we finally make it back to our table. The moment we sit, our food arrives with perfect timing.
“Wow, this looks amazing,” I say, eyeing the beautifully plated sea bass in front of me. “How’s your steak?” I ask, glancing at the ribeye on Wyatt’s plate.
“It’s great. Here, try it.”
He cuts a piece and leans across the table, holding the fork out to me. I grin and lean in, letting him feed me. The flavor hits my tongue, and I let out an involuntary moan.
“Oh my God, that’s good. I definitely should’ve ordered that.”
He laughs. “We can share if you want.”
I shake my head after taking a bite of mine. “No, this is good too. Want to try it?”
I scoop up a forkful and offer it to him. He leans in, his lips brushing the edge of the fork.
“You’re right,” he says, flashing me a grin. “That’s good. Not quite as good as mine, though.”
I roll my eyes and stick out my tongue, making him laugh.
“I think Nash and Paisley are having steak at the wedding,” I say, reaching for my drink.
He leans back in his chair with a shake of his head. “I still can’t believe they’re getting married in a couple of weeks.”
“Same, but I’m so happy for them.”
“Me too. They’ve earned it, especially Paisley.”
“She was so lost when she came to Hope Creek. It’s wild to think she was randomly on that flight… and now they’re getting married. If they’d sat in different seats, they might never have met.”
Wyatt nods, his voice quiet. “Some things are just meant to be.”
“For sure.”
We fall into a comfortable silence as we finish eating. A few minutes later, Wyatt glances up at me.
“So… you bringing a plus one to the wedding?”
I shake my head. “Nope. You?”
He smiles. “Nope. Especially now everyone thinks we’re dating.”
I blink. “Oh, crap. I hadn’t even thought about that.”
He chuckles. “I wasn’t planning on bringing anyone anyway.”
Before I can respond, Margot appears out of nowhere, her ever-present notebook in her hand.
“Hope I’m not interrupting,” she says, already poised to write. “Ready for a few questions?”
“Oh, yeah, sure,” Wyatt replies, his eyes still locked on mine.
“How long have you two been together?” she asks, pen poised.
“A few weeks,” Wyatt answers smoothly, flashing me a smile. “It’s still pretty new.”
Margot nods, scribbling quickly. “But you’ve known each other for a while, right? That’s already all over social media.”
“Wyatt is my best friend’s brother,” I tell her, before Wyatt can respond. “We’ve known each other since we were kids. Wyatt asked me to come and bid on him. We spent some time together before then and something clicked. Something we hadn’t realized before.”
I glance over at Wyatt, who’s watching me with a look I can’t quite read. I reach across the table and slip my hand into his.
“Sometimes it takes a different perspective to realize what’s been right in front of you all along,” he says quietly.
Margot beams. “So, you’d say the charity was a key part in bringing you two together?”
Wyatt laughs, still looking at me. “Yeah, I guess you could say that.”
If I didn’t know better, I’d swear he was an actor, not a football player. He promised me an Oscar-worthy performance tonight, and damn, he’s delivering.
Wyatt answers a few more questions, most of them about football and the upcoming season.
I can’t help but smile as I listen to him speak; he’s so animated and passionate when he talks about the game he loves.
When Margot finally wraps up and thanks us both, she disappears into the crowd with her notebook in hand.
Wyatt turns back to me, an excited glint in his eye. “I think we’ve done our duty here. What do you say we go celebrate your birthday properly?”
I grin. “Really?” I say excitedly.
He smiles back. “Really. Let’s get out of here.”
He rises from his seat and extends his hand toward me.
As I take it and get to my feet, he releases my hand, only to slide it to the small of my back, his palm pressing against my bare skin as he steers me through the restaurant.
The warmth of his touch sends a shiver up my spine, each brush of his fingers sparking a trail of electricity beneath my skin.
I steal a glance at him, but there’s no hint that he’s affected by me, not like the way I seem so affected by him.
When we step outside, the sleek black car that brought us is already waiting at the curb. Wyatt opens the door for me, and I slide in, drawing a steadying breath as he rounds the hood and climbs in beside me.
Leaning forward, he speaks to the driver.
“The Velvet Club, please.”
“Of course, sir,” the driver replies, pulling away from the Fairmont.
I glance over just as Wyatt loosens his bow tie and pops the top button of his shirt.
My gaze goes to the bit of sun-kissed skin now exposed, and I quickly look away, reminding myself to get a grip.
I need to get it together before I say or do something stupid.
No more champagne tonight; that’s clearly messing with my head.
“That’s better,” he says, tossing the bow tie onto the seat between us. “I can finally breathe.”
“What’s The Velvet Club?” I ask, hoping he hasn’t noticed how weirdly I’m acting.
“It’s a club on the edge of the city,” he says, turning toward me. “You like to dance, right?”
“I love to dance,” I say, unable to hide my excitement.
He laughs at my reaction. “Good.”
I raise an eyebrow and hold his gaze. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you dance, though. You are going to dance with me, right?”
He smiles slowly. “Yes, Ivy. I’m going to dance with you.”
Before I can respond, my phone chimes from my purse. I reach inside, pulling it out and smiling when I see a message from Ash. But when I unlock the screen and read it, my smile fades.
Ash: WTF!
“Everything okay?” Wyatt asks.
“It’s Ash,” I say, turning the phone to show him her message. Just then, another one comes through.
“I guess that explains the ‘what the fuck,’” Wyatt says with a quiet laugh.
I turn the phone back around and stare at the image she’s sent. It’s of Wyatt and me outside the Fairmont. His arm is around my waist, and we’re looking at each other like nothing else exists. The caption beneath it reads:
"Arizona Cardinals linebacker, Wyatt Brookes, finds love with childhood friend, Ivy James."
“We look pretty convincing,” I say, still caught in the moment the picture captures.
Wyatt moves closer, his shoulder brushing mine as he glances at the photo again.
“Yeah, we really do,” he says, his voice low. “Ash must be freaking out. I’m surprised she hasn’t called yet.”
I glance toward the front of the car, suddenly aware that the driver can probably hear everything. Lowering my voice, I lean in closer to Wyatt.
“I don’t know why she’s freaking out. I told her this morning we were pretending,” I tell him.
“You did?” he asks, surprised, his face barely an inch from mine.
I meet his eyes. “Is that okay?”
“Of course. People were bound to find out eventually. I guess we’ve got some explaining to do once we’re back in Hope Creek.”
“Yeah… my parents are going to be confused. They’re not big on social media, though, so hopefully I can tell them before they see anything.”
He runs a hand through his hair. “Damn, I didn’t even think about your parents. I’ll come with you to explain if you want.”
“You don’t have to–”
“I want to.”
I smile at him. “Okay. Thank you.”
“You going to reply to Ash?” he asks, easing back to his side of the seat.
“I’m debating messing with her,” I admit with a mischievous grin.
He chuckles, then lets his gaze drop to the high slit of my dress. “I’d be down for that.” He moves closer again and slides his phone from his pocket, opening the camera. Then he rests his warm hand on my bare thigh, squeezing gently. A breath hitches in my throat.
“This okay?” he whispers at my ear.
I nod, my throat suddenly dry. He leans in and presses soft kisses along my neck. My eyes flutter shut, and I forget how to breathe.
When I finally open them, he’s already pulled back, watching me with an unreadable expression. Then he turns the phone around to show me the picture he took. Our faces are just visible, with his mouth at my neck, and his hand gripping my thigh.
“Wow,” I breathe, taking the phone from his hand. “That’s… hot.”
“I’ll send it to you,” Wyatt says, his voice thicker than before.
I hand him the phone, and seconds later, mine pings with an incoming message. I open it, my breath catching as the image fills the screen. Wyatt and me, caught in a moment that feels anything but pretend.
“I don’t know if I can send this to her,” I say. “It feels… intimate.” I glance up at him. “I know that probably sounds stupid.”
He shakes his head. “It doesn’t. Not at all.” His eyes drop from mine. “Maybe I went too far. I’m sorry if I crossed a line.”
“You didn’t,” I say quickly. “I love the picture. I’ve never seen myself like this before.” I look down at the image again, something warm stirring in my chest.
He looks at me. “How do you see yourself, Ivy?”
I don’t know what to say. How do I explain something I’ve never really admitted to myself? The girl in the picture… she doesn’t look like me. She looks desired, like she belongs in the moment, with his lips on her skin. She looks like someone who doesn’t doubt she’s enough.