Chapter 38
ONE OF THE GUYS
Stefan
Old-fashioned perfume tickles my nose. Soft, delicate music plays overhead. Ladies shuffle by. That’s a department store for you.
When the helpful sales clerk holding a black gift bag strides over to Hayes and me, she flashes a congenial smile. “Here you go, sir.”
“Thank you very much,” I say, taking the bag.
“Appreciate it,” Hayes adds.
Our next stop is the arena, even though it’s a day off. As we walk inside the building, I dangle the bag in front of my friend. “Now, can you handle giving this to the boss, or do you need to leave it to the adult in charge?”
“I think I can manage,” he says.
Arching a dubious brow, I yank the bag away when he reaches for it. “Let’s see. What happened the last time you saw her? Oh, I remember. Your brain froze so you said you were still married, since that made it easier to go to a golf tournament.”
Hayes huffs.
“Yes, growl at me. That bothers me so much,” I say as we turn the corner to the hallway that leads to the executive suite. “I mean, we could let you try giving it to her and hope that if she, for instance, invites you to dinner, you don’t say great, I just bought a restaurant.”
He claps my shoulder. “No worries, bro. If she does, I’ll say yours is mine. Since, well, we do share.”
“Yes. Yes, we do,” I say.
There are other things I want to share with him, but now’s not the time to marinate on my wishes. It’s time to help our girl. She mentioned she needed to pick something up for Jessie, so I insisted she let us do it. She still needs to take it easy.
A few seconds later, I’m knocking on the door to the executive suite. Jessie’s assistant answers, but Jessie’s right there next to him. “What brings you both here?”
I don’t think I’ve ever come to her office before. There’s been no need. “Ivy asked us to bring this to you,” I say, offering her the gift.
She blinks. I’ve surprised the owner. I’m well aware that I’m not the public husband. But I’m doing this with Hayes, anyway, because I want to. We want to.
“Thank you,” Jessie says, then peeks inside. Instantly, her eyes sparkle. “Oh, yes! Tell her thank you very much.”
“We will,” Hayes says.
“There’s a card too,” I add. Ivy handed me the envelope this morning. No idea what it says, of course, since it’s sealed.
Jessie peers inside. “Excellent. And see you at the golf tournament next weekend. Both of you. Also, keep winning. I like winning.”
“I do too, Ms. Rose,” Hayes says.
Jessie gives us one more curious look, like she’s trying to puzzle out if there’s a reason we’re both here, other than us being friends.
But I don’t drop any more breadcrumbs. I’m not worried about how she’d handle it. Jessie took Ryker, Trina, and Chase out to dinner when their throuple became public a couple seasons ago. She’s an outspoken proponent of loving who you want. I’m not worried she’d have any issues with us.
It’s just that timing is everything. And while I’d absolutely pursue Ivy on my own, I want her with Hayes, together. I’m going to need to figure out how to pull that off.
I fully intend to make her mine. But I’m a patient man, and I’m willing to show her that I’m the guy for her.
Or really, one of the guys.
* * *
When we return to the building, a text flashes in our group chat.
Ivy: I’m at the penthouse. I wanted kale for lunch—early lunch. I made a salad. You can join me.
I give Hayes a look that translates to salad for lunch? I’m not a rabbit.
“Food truck,” he says, understanding immediately.
Ten minutes later, we head inside with sandwiches from the truck since every hour is mealtime. Ivy’s grabbing a fork, and there’s a salad on the counter in a large metal bowl. “How did it go?”
“We gave it to her together,” I remark casually. I want to plant the seed.
“You did?” There’s no uncertainty in her voice. Just curiosity.
“Look, someone had to make sure Hayes didn’t tell her his dad owned the department store and wanted to hire her as the spokesmodel,” I say.
Hayes smacks the back of my head.
I smack his head.
Ivy laughs, and all feels right in the world. Well, for now. I’ll have to take small steps toward the future.
Starting with lunch, and when I open the paper on my sandwich, I’m reminded of something. “I forgot to tell you. Your ex came to visit me the other night.”
From across the counter, her eyes bug out. “What?”
“He wanted me to invest in, wait for it, Dough and Duds,” I say, and the three of us have a laugh as I tell them about Xander’s proposal.
As she takes a bite of the salad, she turns pensive, then says, “It’s funny you mention him, because I made a big decision this morning. Something’s been nagging at me, and I really want to know what you both think. If it’s too crazy or risky.”
She sounds earnest and a little nervous.
Please don’t say you got a job out of town. I don’t think my heart could handle it.
“Sure, hit me up,” I say, not giving away that fear.
She sets down the fork. “I don’t want to cover their wedding. I think I’d like to turn it down. Or, really, to back out.”
“Just not do it?” Hayes asks, but he doesn’t sound alarmed. He sounds more like he’s reining in a hoot and a holler.
“Yes. I don’t want to associate with people who belittle me now or who have in the past. They both did. And if turning this down means I lose a chance at a bunch of new followers and a really click-y piece, I’m okay with that. My mental health is worth more.”
I look at the gorgeous, fierce woman across from me. I pretty much have no choice but to fall even harder for Ivy Samuels. “I’m so fucking proud of you.”
“Do it,” Hayes urges, and a giddy Ivy grabs her phone.
Ten seconds later, she’s saying, “Hey, girl, it’s Ivy Samuels. Something came up, and I can’t cover your wedding.”
A pause. “What came up?” Ivy asks, presumably repeating Simone’s question.
Another pause. “Oh, just the fact that my doctors have suggested I limit my exposure to all things toxic. And that’d be you and my ex. Thanks a bunch, though, and best of luck with your blowout bash.”
When she hangs up, she lets out a huge, excited breath, then punches the sky. “I did it!”
“You fucking did it,” I echo, then stand and wrap her in a hug. Hayes joins me, embracing her too.
Hmm. This hug feels pretty good. Especially when she wriggles against me. Then against him. Then me again. Then she whispers, “I missed…fucking.”
“And I missed fucking you. But you need to take it easy,” I say, but with heat in my voice.
“Don’t forget twelve hours ago, your wrist was wrapped,” Hayes reminds her. “You need to rest it for a full day.”
She peels away and heads to the staircase leading to the roof. “Well, my right wrist works fine.”