Chapter 20 #2
I wake up the next morning having slept better than I expected. Maybe because Ivy was in my arms last night, or maybe because my dreams were filled with her, and, for once, I didn’t mind staying asleep. Either way, I’m eager to get up and see if she’s awake.
I roll over and reach for my phone on the nightstand, surprised to see it’s just after ten. I slept longer than I thought. A few notifications flash across the screen, two from Ash and one from Seb.
I open Ash’s messages first, and my eyes widen as the screen fills with a photo.
It’s me and Ivy on the dance floor at The Velvet Club.
My arms are around her waist, her hands looped behind my neck.
Our bodies are pressed so close it’s like we were the only two people in the room.
From the angle, it almost looks like we’re kissing.
The photo’s a little blurry, clearly taken from a distance, but there’s no mistaking it’s us.
I had no clue anyone was taking pictures, but someone did, and now it’s out there, floating around on social media for everyone to see.
I stare at it longer than I should. Ivy looks incredible, and I know now this is out there, everyone is going to have questions, her family and mine, but all I can think about is how badly I want to hold her like that again.
Ash’s next message is text, and I sigh as I read it.
Ash: This looks more than pretending for your publicist! What’s going on with you two? I love you, but please don’t hurt her.
I frown, guilt knotting in my stomach. Hurting Ivy is the last thing I’d ever want to do.
But I can’t blame Ash for asking. It does look like more than pretending, because it is.
At least for me. The line between what’s fake and what’s real didn’t just blur somewhere along the way… it’s been blurry from the start.
I don’t reply to Ash. Not yet. What would I even say?
Instead, I click on Seb’s message.
Seb: So… you told her how you felt then?
I let out a long breath and sink back into the pillows, my phone resting on my chest. Everyone seems to be asking the same question, and maybe it’s time I stop avoiding it and start being honest with myself.
I should text them both back and explain what’s going on, but I want to stay in this bubble a little longer. The one where it’s just me and Ivy, even if I’m the only one who feels like it’s something more. I turn my phone off, toss it onto the bed, and push the thought aside.
After a quick stop in the bathroom to brush my teeth, I head to the kitchen, wondering if Ivy’s up yet. I don’t have to wonder for long.
She’s sitting at the breakfast bar, still wearing my jersey, her laptop open in front of her. She hasn’t noticed me yet, and I pause, taking in the sight.
Black-rimmed glasses, something I’ve never seen her wear before, perch on her nose as she stares intently at the screen.
One knee is tucked up, her foot resting on the edge of the stool, her posture relaxed but focused.
Her hair is in a messy bun, with a few loose strands framing her face, and she looks so effortlessly beautiful that it knocks the air from my lungs.
She looked incredible last night in that dress, but this, fresh-faced and lost in her own thoughts, this version of Ivy might be the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.
“Hey, you’re awake,” she says, glancing up and meeting my eyes. “I was just catching up on some work.”
I smile, stepping into the kitchen and switching on the coffee machine. “Did you sleep okay?”
“I did,” she says, then hesitates, her teeth tugging at her bottom lip. “How did I end up in bed?”
I meet her gaze. “You fell asleep during the movie. I didn’t want to wake you, so I carried you.”
Her voice softens. “Thank you.”
“Anytime.”
I turn to the cupboard, grab two mugs, and pour the coffee.
“Have you eaten yet?” I ask, sliding one of the steaming cups across the counter to her.
“Not yet. I can make us something,” she offers, cradling the mug in both hands and blowing lightly on the surface.
“We could go out,” I suggest. “There’s a great spot not far from here.”
She wrinkles her nose and pushes her glasses up to rest on her head. “Would you mind if we didn’t? There are pictures of us everywhere. My phone hasn’t stopped buzzing.”
I exhale. “Shit. I’m sorry, Ivy. I know this isn’t what you signed up for.”
She gives a small shrug. “It’s okay. It was my idea, remember? I just don’t feel like getting photographed again today. Did you see the one of us dancing at the club?”
“Yeah,” I mutter, running a hand through my hair. “I saw it. I didn’t even realize anyone was taking pictures. I’m really sorry.”
She waves a hand. “You’ve got to stop apologizing. I’m fine. Once we’re back in Hope Creek, no one will care.”
I let out a laugh. “You’d think, but I already got messages from Ash and Seb. So much for flying under the radar.”
She grins. “Yeah, same here. All the girls messaged me. I ignored them and just shut my phone off.”
I smile. “Same.”
She rises from her stool, and my eyes drop automatically to the jersey and her bare legs beneath it.
“I’ll make us some breakfast,” she says, breaking me out of my not-so-subtle stare.
“I can do it.”
“Let me, please. It’s the least I can do after you spoiled me yesterday.”
I offer a soft smile. “Okay. If you insist.”
“Bacon and eggs?” she asks, her eyebrow raised.
“Sounds perfect.”
She nods toward her laptop. “Check out the listing on the screen. That’s one I’m lining up a viewing for. Let me know what you think.”
I take her place at the breakfast bar and glance at the open listing.
A striking three-story brick home fills the screen, surrounded by mature gardens.
I click through the photos. There are dated interiors, a kitchen stuck in the 1970s, and five bathrooms that all need gutting.
Still, the house has character, high ceilings, intricate moldings, and the kind of grand entryway you don’t see anymore.
The sweeping staircase alone has me hooked.
“What do you think?” Ivy asks, slipping on her glasses as she comes to stand beside me.
“I love it,” I say without hesitation.
She turns to me, surprise lighting up her face. “You do?”
“Definitely. Sure, it needs work, but I like that. It means I can make it exactly how I want. It’s off Willow Street, right?”
She nods. “Yeah. A little outside Hope Creek, but with the land you want, that’s the trade-off.”
“I’m fine with that. Being out of town is part of the appeal. I know Hope Creek isn’t Phoenix, but I still want privacy.”
She smiles knowingly. “Can’t blame you for that.” A pause. “We’ll have to double-check if there’s enough covered space for your cars, though. That’s the only thing it’s really lacking.”
I nod, already imagining the possibilities. “That’s manageable. I’m excited about this, Ivy.”
Her grin widens. “Me too. That entryway and staircase? Imagine it at Christmas. A massive tree right in the center. It would look incredible.”
I chuckle. She’s not wrong. I’d been thinking the same thing.
“Yeah. It’d be beautiful.”
“I’ll set up a viewing first thing Monday.”
“Can’t wait.”
And I mean it, but not just because of the house. I’m already dreading leaving here, dreading the gap between now and the next time I see her. We’ve just spent the whole weekend together, and still, it’s not enough. Even when I’m with her, I’m thinking about her.
The idea of going days without seeing her?
It doesn’t sit right. Not at all.