As each day passed, I kept wondering when I’d see her again. What I should have done was tell my father to handle the renovations of Ivy’s house, because nothing good would come of me being so close to her again. I was already having very vivid thoughts about her and I’d only been around her twice. That’s it. Only two times and she was already edging her way back into my head, as if she’d never left.
I had a plan, though. A shitty one and one that was probably going to bite me in the ass sooner or later, but I was raising a white flag—a truce. I would make it up to her. All the pain I had involuntarily caused her. All the pain that she’d involuntarily caused me.
I had the blueprints ready. I would show her what we could do to her shabby home (which by the way, I couldn’t help but notice needed a shit-ton of work done to it) and then we could just go back to being… friends.
My heart was galloping in my chest like an Arabian racehorse as I clutched the blueprints in my hand. I was standing just below her house, staring at the stupid, cracked, missing-pieces, concrete steps that she’d fallen down a few days ago, completely high with exhilaration.
I ground my teeth, reminding myself that I was here to fix her house and to be her friend. Nothing more. Would I love to go back to being best friends with Ivy? Yes. But I knew that wasn’t possible.
Breanna would probably lose her shit, and although she surprisingly hadn’t been the jealous type regarding our sex-lationsip, I had a feeling that now that we were trying to make a relationship work, she’d show her true colors. Especially since it was Ivy and she and her family loathed the Collins, what was left of them, anyway. I didn’t know the specifics as to why except for that Ivy once told me that Breanna hated her because their fathers were rivals in the car dealership industry.
Breanna wasn’t even aware that Ivy was back in town yet. I didn’t think many people knew other than my father and I. It seemed Ivy was secluding herself in her house, which made sense; it was probably a little difficult for her to be out and about in a town that she used to call home.
I was certain she hadn’t been on her old street yet.
I definitely would have known.
As I walked up her front steps, I listened for a sound in her house, but the only thing I heard was the low rumble of a TV or radio.
I rapped my knuckles along the dull white, wooden door, which was in desperate need of a paint job, and paused. I clicked my tongue back and forth in my mouth, waiting, hoping she’d be just as down with being friends again as I was.
I mean, it wasn’t like we were bouncing back from a long-term relationship full of sex and all that intimate stuff (let’s pretend my dick didn’t just stir thinking of Ivy and sex in the same sentence). We’d been really, really good friends back in the day. We shared one epic kiss, and that was it.
I was certain that we could at least be acquaintances again.
Finally, Ivy opened the door, but all I could see was a sliver of her shining face through the crack. Her emerald eyes widened, dark eyelashes fanning the skin below her eyebrows.
“Dawson,” her voice was breathless, like she had been working out… or something else.
Hesitantly, I asked, “Is this a bad time?”
I turned my body slightly to peek inside her house but before I could, she placed her hand on my chest and shoved me backwards, following me outside and slamming the door behind her.
What the fuck? I’m aware that we had a little tiff and left things on a weird page but she wasn’t allowing me inside now?
Then my blood started to boil.
…Does she have a man inside? That would make total sense. How could someone like her be single?
“Bad time? Should I come back?” I shut my eyes briefly, hoping she didn’t notice the sharpness that fell off of every single word.
Ivy was quick to answer. “Oh no! It’s fine, did you need something?” She crossed her arms over her white t-shirt and that’s when I noticed the smudges on her face.
My mouth twitched as I reached my bare hand up to brush her cheek. Excitement hit my fingertips as I felt her soft skin and I unknowingly let my fingers linger for far too long.
“What’s this?” I asked, finally pulling my hand back and looking down at the white dust on the pads of my fingers.
Ivy started to stutter s
o bad that I had to bite back a laugh.
“Oh! That? Ur… um, it’s nothing!”
I rose an eyebrow, watching her cheeks fill with a blazing red.
“Why are you nervous?” I pestered, voice full of laughter.
“I’m not!” she shouted.