Chapter 17
MY WIFE
Hayes
Adrenaline’s still buzzing under my skin, and my brain has zero real estate for anything but Ivy.
I need to grab a minute to take the temperature with her.
That escalated quickly, skyrocketing from hungry kiss to wild tryst. I don’t know if she’s done anything like that before, if she’s going to freak.
But I give her some space to change, pacing in the foyer, back and forth for a minute or two, replaying the hottest five minutes of my life.
When she emerges, dressed in her own clothes again, she runs a hand breezily through her waves then says, “Should we get those tacos now?”
My Spidey senses tingle. She sounds too chipper.
Is she out of sorts because we work together and messed around? Or because the three of us messed around? I can’t get a read on her.
We exit the chapel at a rapid clip, and I’m about to ask if she wants to talk when Brady rounds the corner. He holds out his arms, like he’s been searching for us all night long. “There you are.”
“We’re here,” Ivy says brightly. “Took me a few minutes to change.”
“Taco shop’s closed,” Brady says, hanging his head. The lack of tacos is evidently the height of devastation. “But there’s a ramen spot in The Extravagant, and Dev wants to go there, so our Lyft is on the way.”
It’s odd that he came back for us. Most dudes would just text and let you find your own ride.
“Kana made me come look for you,” he says, and that explains everything.
He’s here on a mission to collect us on behalf of the mom of the group.
He hooks his thumb toward the end of the block. “You can join us.”
I’ve no good reason to turn him down, so even though I want a moment with Ivy alone, I find myself piling into an SUV with Dev, Brady, Kana, Ivy, and Stefan.
She’s in the third row, wedged between Stefan and me, but she fiddles with one earring, then the other, then the third one higher up her lobe.
As Dev gabs about some Vegas fan who was talking shit to them on the street, Ivy keeps her gaze fixed on the road like the lights of Vegas are the height of fascination.
We turn onto the Strip and my gut churns. This is bad. She regrets it and I don’t know why. But I can’t let her stew alone. I inch closer. “Hey,” I whisper, checking. “You okay?”
She nods, then pastes on a smile, jerking her head toward me in a quick glance. “Yes. Totally. Absolutely.”
My heart sinks with a thud. Three yeses is the kiss of death.
Stefan turns to her and parts his lips to speak.
“—Boom! Eight a.m.,” Dev shouts from the row in front of us, then twists around, waggling his phone as we swing past the Bellagio, its fountains arcing gracefully against the dark night. “Who fucking loves you, Armstrong? Got you an appointment.”
I furrow my brow. “For what?”
“For your annulment. C’mon, man. Keep up with us,” Brady puts in.
Oh, wow. Right. I’m kind of touched they scheduled one.
“Thanks,” I say, and I steal another glance at Ivy, but she’s fixed on the windshield, rotating her earrings once again. If she’s regretting what happened up against the wall in the chapel, I won’t forgive myself.
“Also,” Dev adds, wiggling his brow, “we photoshopped those pics tonight. The ones we showed you. We didn’t really get hitched.”
My jaw drops. “Are you kidding me?”
Stefan stares out the window, saying nothing.
“Well, Brady and I did,” Kana puts in, an impish laugh on her face. “We were married before he was even drafted. But not in Vegas. At the Japanese Gardens in Vancouver. My entire family from Osaka flew in.”
Wow.
I should feel fooled, but I don’t entirely. I got something out of the wedding dare for one night.
Belonging.
Correction. I got belonging and the most mind-bendingly sexy five minutes of my life. The trouble is I don’t know if Ivy got anything out of it.
A few minutes later, we pull up to the hotel, spilling out of the car at well past one in the morning, with Brady talking up the best ramen in the city as we head into the hotel.
But when they turn down the concourse toward the food, Ivy stops and says, “Hey! I’m beat. I’m going to call it a night.”
After a quick goodbye, she whirls around the other way, taking off in a blur of chestnut waves and regret.
My heart clangs. I need to see her, talk to her, ask if she’s okay. She’s my neighbor and she’s become a friend. But will I give us away if I go after her? I’ve got to protect her privacy, and she gave off a distinct we’re all just buds vibe then.
When we reach the ramen shop and the guys duck in, I’m torn. I should go with them and do the whole unspoken team bonding thing. But I need to take care of Ivy too.
Stefan seems weirdly distant as well. He’s quiet when he’s usually not.
He’s so often the life of the party, but when he gets to the counter and checks out the menu, he just seems bored.
He gives a shrug, like he’s so over it. “Nothing looks good. I’m out of here,” he says, then takes off before I can say a word to him either.
Out of the corner of my eye, I catch him snapping pics of stores and shops as he goes.
Five minutes later, the guy behind the counter slides me a carton of noodles. As I carry the container to the table, this feels all wrong.
I don’t need to be here with the guys. I need to see my woman.
I stuff the container in a to-go bag. “I’m going to take off.”
I don’t give anyone a chance to protest. I leave, calling Ivy as I weave through the slot machines to the elevator. “Hey. What’s your room number? I need to see you.”
A couple minutes later, I knock on her door. When she opens it, she’s dressed in a loose cami, but she hasn’t taken off her jeans. Her hair is pulled back in a cloth headband like she was about to wash her face.
But she’s still got a wall up. I can sense it in her too bright eyes, her too peppy smile.
Did she have to fake her emotions for someone in the past?
A family member? A parent? She seems like she knows how to put on a good face, and it’s almost believable.
But I see through it. “Hey. I brought you ramen. I didn’t know if you were hungry. ”
“I like ramen,” she says in a tone I can’t read.
I thrust the bag at her, and she takes it, but makes no move to let me in. “Thanks, Hayes. See you at—”
“—Can we talk?”
“Sure,” she says, but like she’s bracing herself for terrible news. Of course her guardrails are up. She’s a woman who’s been cheated on.
She holds open the door and I go inside.
I glance around. Her room is smaller than mine, and that’s kind of irritating. But there’s a couch, and when she sets her food down on the table across from it, I join her there on the sofa cushions.
She adjusts a strap on the cami. Is she avoiding eye contact again? Man, I fucked up tonight. Maybe I should have talked more before I pinned her against the wall. “Are you okay?”
“You asked me in the car. I said yes. I am.”
“You took off right away though.”
“It’s late,” she says, then sighs, like she’s emphasizing how tired she is. “I should go to bed. We have a busy day and—”
“—That’s not what I mean.”
“What do you mean?”
There’s no point beating around the bush. “Did what we did freak you out?” I ask it point blank, putting my cards on the table. “I don’t want you to be uncomfortable. That’s the last thing I want.”
She sighs heavily, then meets my gaze. “Look, it surprised me. But it also didn’t.”
“Yeah?”
“I mean, I kind of got vibes all week,” she says and looks down, then back up. Ivy’s not usually unsure of herself but she seems off-kilter now. I’ve got to do something.
I reach for her hand, thread her fingers through mine. “Since the night I met you, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you. You’re under my skin. You’re in my head. I tried to resist you and did a shit job of it. Want to know why?”
Her lips twitch in the start of a grin. “Why?”
“Because you’re fiery and fascinating, and you have a big heart.
And you’re so sexy it fries my brain and scrambles all logic.
I’ve wanted you since the second I saw you, and the more I got to know you, the more I had to fight it.
When I realized Stefan was into you too, the craving only got more intense. ”
Her eyes brighten. The smile takes over. “Really?”
“Yes.”
“That made you want me more?”
“I like what I like,” I say, owning it.
She nibbles on the corner of her lips, then draws a breath and asks, “Have you done that before?”
I don’t know if the truth will make her run for the hills, but I owe her honesty. “Yes.”
“With him?”
I’ve never admitted anything about our shared trysts before. I’m not ashamed. They’re just private. We’ve only ever done hookups. We’ve never shared a woman we’ll see again. “Yeah. A few times. It started in college.”
“Oh,” she says, but her voice pitches up. With intrigue. With avid interest. “You guys like it? Like, a lot?”
Understatement of the year. “Fucking love it,” I say, opening myself up. “You couldn’t tell?”
She dips her face, but she seems more flattered than embarrassed. “I mean, I could tell you both liked it,” she says when she looks up again.
This girl. Man, her ex did a number on her. I scoot closer, thread a hand through her hair.
“No, Ivy,” I correct. “I don’t like turning on a woman with him. I love it.”
Her shoulders relax. “This is new to me. I mean, Trina’s in a throuple, so the concept isn’t strange. I’ve just never personally done anything like that.”
I turn the key question around on her. “Did you like it?”
She’s quiet for a beat. “No. I fucking loved it.”
When she uses my words on me, I groan, my dick jumping in my suit pants.
But this moment isn’t about getting off.
It’s about getting it right. “Seeing you so worked up feels almost illegal,” I rasp out.
“You’re like magic. But if you had a good time, why were you so distant in the car? Because everyone was there?”
That has to be it.
She squares her shoulders. “Because I didn’t know if you guys would want to do that again.”
That’s her worry?
Before I can tell her I want it so much it’s suffocating, she adds, “And I was working up the courage to ask you.” She points to her phone, and I’m on the edge of my seat, feeling like I’m about to hit the biggest jackpot in this city.
“I’ve been typing out messages to you two since I returned to my room. Messages I didn’t send.”
“What would they have said?” I’m on the edge for her answer.
“I was going to ask if you guys would want to do that again…” She pauses then says the most beautiful word in the history of the world: “Tonight.”
* * *
Ten minutes later, I’m marching down the hall on the tenth floor, powered by raw desire and Ivy’s dirty dreams. I play out scenarios, desperately wanting to fulfill every single fantasy Ivy outlined before I left.
I clench my fists. I’m a high-wire tension line. My long legs eat up the floor as I stalk to Stefan’s room. I’d burn down this hotel—no, this whole city—to give her what she wants tonight.
When I reach my destination, I pound on the door mercilessly.
Didn’t text him I was coming. And I don’t have the patience to wait much longer. I bang again, louder this time, my knuckles getting raw. I might wake everyone on this floor.
And I don’t care.
“C’mon,” I mutter.
Soon, I hear the shuffling of feet, then the unlatching of the lock. Stefan opens the door a few inches. He squints at me, his hair sticking up. “What the fuck are you doing here at this hour?”
“Open the door,” I demand. “And get out of bed.”
With a tired groan, he rolls his eyes. “I am out of bed. This is literally me out of bed,” he says as he tugs open the door.
I storm past him.
He shuts the door behind me. You never know who might overhear, and this conversation is for him and me only.
I cross my arms and look him in the eyes. “I’ve got a question for you.”
“What is it?”
I’m no longer in a rush. I take my time as I let a dirty smile curve my lips. “Do you want to fuck my wife?”