Epilogue Two
Beckett
I’m standing with Gabriel and Alexis, halfway through giving my brother hell about how long it took him to come to his senses, when I spot something across the room that kills the rest of the joke in my throat.
It’s Ivy. She’s over at the bar that runs along one wall of Liora waiting for a drink, and there’s a guy next to her leaning in way too close, crowding her.
“Excuse me for a second,” I tell them, but I’m already moving, not caring much about the niceties.
I cut through the crowd toward the bar, keeping my eyes on the two of them the whole way.
The guy is someone I don’t know well, the son of some friends of my mother.
He’s talking low, right up against Ivy’s ear, and she’s doing the thing she always does, smiling to be nice and easing back a couple inches without even seeming to notice.
I’m sure if I called out the fact that he’s actively hitting on her, she’d be surprised.
She has no clue the effect she has on men, with her soft blonde hair, wide eyes, and curvy figure.
Ivy turns heads everywhere she goes, but she somehow doesn’t realize it, waving off compliments like they’re jokes she doesn’t get.
As she shifts her weight, the guy’s gaze rakes over her body like he thinks he’s being slick about it.
He isn’t. Between Jackson and me and my brothers, there’s always been a wall of us around Ivy, going all the way back to when she was a kid, running off the assholes who looked at her like this.
It’s habit by now, and tonight, I’m just the one who was standing closest.
That’s what I tell myself, anyway.
I step up next to her as I reach the bar, as if I came over for a drink and nothing else, sliding into the space between her and the douchebag so that he has to shuffle backward a little to make room.
“Yamazaki, neat,” I tell the bartender.
He nods as Ivy glances over at me, her face lighting up. “Hey! This is such a great celebration, isn’t it?”
“Yeah.” I nod. “It’s great to see Gabriel and Alexis so happy.”
Even as I speak, I glance coolly at the creep who was trying to hit on her, giving him a hard look.
He blanches a little as he realizes he’s been busted, the color draining out of his face.
I roll my shoulders back and straighten to my full height, all six-foot-four of me projecting pure intimidation.
He clearly gets the message because he grabs his drink off the bar and clears out, disappearing into the crowd like he’s trying to get as many bodies between him and me as possible.
Good. I watch him the whole way, making sure he keeps moving the fuck along.
Only once he’s gone, lost somewhere on the far side of the room, do I turn back to Ivy as the bartender slides both of our drinks across the bar.
“So.” I rest an elbow on the bar and tug my tie loose a little with my free hand, taking a sip of my whiskey. “What are you drinking?”
“Something sweet.” She shrugs a shoulder as she lifts the glass to her lips, looking a little embarrassed. “My blood sugar was getting low, and my glucose tabs are in my purse. Figured it was easier to just bribe my body with a Shirley Temple.”
I push off the bar, my brows drawing together. “You okay? You want to sit down? Eat something?”
“Oh my god.” She laughs and pokes a finger into my arm.
“You sound exactly like Jackson. I swear the two of you share a brain sometimes.” She’s still grinning, a lock of blond hair brushing her cheek, and she tucks it behind her ear as she shakes her head ruefully.
“I’ve never decided if it’s a blessing or a curse, my brother having five best friends.
It’s like I ended up with six brothers instead of one.
Six overprotective brothers, all sure I’m going to keel over the second they look away. ”
My jaw tightens, just for a second, and I cover it with another sip and an easy grin. I don’t know why hearing her complain that we all treat her like brothers bothers me sometimes. I mean, we are like brothers to her, and she’s not wrong that we’re all almost ridiculously protective.
Or it would be ridiculous, if she didn’t seem to be a magnet for sleazebags who are in no way good enough for her.
“Somebody’s got to keep an eye on you,” I say lightly, nudging her with my shoulder.
“I can look out for myself just fine, thank you very much,” she shoots back primly, although there’s no real annoyance in her voice.
“I know, I know. You can’t blame us though.”
Out on the dance floor, Gabriel and Alexis have taken up the center spot, the two of them swaying like everybody else has disappeared. His head is bent down to hers, his mouth at her ear, and whatever he’s saying makes a soft smile pull at her lips.
Beside me, Ivy lets out a quiet sigh, a wistful little sound. When I glance down, there’s a faraway look on her face, her blue-green gaze fixed on my brother and his wife.
“They make it look so easy,” she murmurs. “Like it was always going to be the two of them.” She tugs her bottom lip between her teeth. “Do you think it’ll be like that for me? When it’s my turn?”
I frown down into my glass and swirl the whiskey once.
“Couldn’t tell you,” I say. “What those two have isn’t all that common. It’s rare, and a lot of people go their whole lives without ever getting close to it.”
She bumps her shoulder against mine, a teasing look sparking in her eyes.
“You’re awfully gloomy tonight. Where’s that famous Thorne charm?
” She tilts her head, turning to face me more fully with an earnest expression on her face.
“Don’t you want that someday? That big, can’t-live-without-you kind of love?
A grand romance with the one person you’re meant for? ”
Meredith Ballard’s face pops into my mind, and I resist the urge to snort. That’s the woman my father’s will has determined will become my wedded wife. I don’t know her well, but I know that she’s polished and cool and about as far from my soulmate as a person can get.
“You’re right. I should keep the faith.” I force a grin to my face as I glance down at Ivy, deciding not to bring this celebratory night down with my dour thoughts about my upcoming arranged marriage. “Soulmate, the whole thing. Who am I to bet against it?”
“That’s the spirit!” She brightens, gifting me one of those beaming smiles that always seems to warm a room by several degrees. “You have to believe.”
Across the room, Peyton has squeezed herself in between Gabriel and Alexis, the three of them dancing together as Gabriel holds her on his hip in a way that’s honestly too fucking adorable. Ivy watches them with a fond grin on her face, silence falling between us for a moment.
“It’s funny, isn’t it?” she says after a few beats. “You and I will both be married soon. Both of us settled down.” Her laugh comes out a little thin. “Feels like yesterday my parents were telling me about the match they set up for me, and before I know it, I’ll be walking down the aisle.”
My head turns toward her faster than I mean for it to, and I clear my throat and turn my attention back to my drink.
“Yeah,” I say. “Funny.”
As much as I hate the fact that I’m about to be roped into some stilted, loveless marriage, I hate it for Ivy even more. I’m not sure I ever really expected to find some great love for myself, even outside of this whole bullshit stipulation in my father’s will.
But Ivy? I know she wants that. She wants the whole thing. The romance. The forever. Is she really going to get that with whatever guy her parents have picked for her? Whoever it is had better treat her like the prize she is, or he’ll have me and Jackson to deal with, not to mention my brothers.
The atmosphere in the room is still happy and light, full of laughter and low conversation, but I suddenly feel a lot less celebratory.
I tip back the last of the whiskey and set the empty glass on the bar.
“Come on.” I turn to Ivy, trying to shove down my worries about what the future might hold for us both. “Let’s get some food in you before your brother catches you wobbling and blames it on me.”