B00AAOCX2E EBOK (32 page)

By the end of the night, I felt bruised and battered and just wanted to go home and sleep. Amery met us outside the studio door. I could see the rampant curiosity in her eyes as she looked between us. “Interesting show, guys.”

Neither Ian nor I replied. We walked to the elevator in silence. When the door opened, I went to one wall, Ian went to the other, and poor Amery got stuck in the middle. I didn’t know how she stood there without suffocating on the tension.

“Can I get a ride home with you?” I asked as we walked into the ground-floor lobby.

“I’ll take you home,” Ian said. “We need to talk.”

“That’s probably a good idea,” Amery said before I could argue. “It sounds like you have a quite a bit to work out between you.” She sped ahead of us, no doubt eager to escape the uncomfortable situation. I couldn’t blame her. “Work it out, guys,” she called over her shoulder when she reached the exit.

I sighed and shuffled behind Ian, following out him to Zeb’s jeep, which I assumed he’d borrowed for the night because the roads were still slick after sunset. Hardly safe conditions for a motorcycle ride. I stared forward as Ian steered the vehicle down the streets of campus, waiting for him to talk. But by the time we coasted to a stop at the curb in front of my building, he still hadn’t said a word.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him turn the engine off and flick the small globe keychain hanging from the ignition. His eyes stayed on the steering wheel.

It was dark as pitch out. The moon was a sliver in the sky. While the light of the building reflected in Ian’s eyes, I couldn’t see much of his face.

Our breathing sounded heavy in the confines of the vehicle. The engine made small ticking noises. I counted twenty of those ticks before I finally broke the silence.

“You wanted to talk?”

He nodded slowly, but didn’t take his eyes from the steering column. “Yeah.”

“About?”

I counted eight more ticks of the engine before he spoke again. “Saturday night.” His voice seemed to catch.

While I’d figured as much – what else did we have to talk about besides that stunt in the station? – I still felt my heart clench in my chest. “Go for it.”

“Look, you already know some shit went down with Pete.”

“Yes.”

He cleared his throat. “Anyway, I was all screwed up about it. I was desperate to connect with someone, and you were the one who was there. I’m sorry if I led you on. I know I told you my feelings were changing, but when I woke up Sunday morning, I realized it was a mistake.”

I’d known it was coming, but to hear him actually say it was crushing. “Well, I’m glad I could help,” I said. My tongue felt like a block of wood. “You know I’m always there for you.”

“Don’t get me wrong, it was great.”

“Yeah.”

“But it was just…” He waved a hand around.

“A thing?” I provided.

He nodded. “Yeah. I don’t feel that way about you and I didn’t want there to be confusion about that.”

“Yeah, there’s no confusion. You’ve been very clear.”

“Yeah. So… glad we cleared that up.” Ian turned the key and the Jeep started up. I knew I was being dismissed. Good thing, too. I didn’t know how much longer I could stand being there. I fumbled with the buckle on the seatbelt then pushed open the door, ready to escape. “Thanks for the ride.”

“You’re welcome.”

Ian glanced over but turned away immediately with a sigh through his nose.

“Drive safe,” I said out of habit.

He nodded. “I’ll call you.”

The ultimate kiss off.

I slammed the door and kept my head high as I walked to my apartment. I didn’t rush – the asphalt was still too icy for that – but kept my pace steady as the Jeep idled at the curb.

Thirty seconds.
That’s was how long I had to keep it together.

I gulped hard and shuddered as I entered the protective cover of the stairwell, feeling two hot tears slip down my cheeks. They were gone, wiped away, by the time I reached the third floor. Ian wouldn’t be able to see them from that far away, but I wasn’t taking any chances. I unlocked the door and waved over my shoulder without looking back.

I mumbled a greeting at Chelsea, who worked at her computer, but rushed towards my room before I was trapped into talking. The moment the door closed behind me, I fell back against the wooden surface and stared at the wall in relief. I’d made it. Then, my vision blurred, my face twisted and I yielded to the sobs I’d been choking back.

I cupped my hand over my eyes and dropped to my knees as the most intense pain I’d ever felt cut me from the inside out.

His devastating words repeated in my head.
“You were the one who was there.”

What had been the best night of my life had been nothing more than a quick roll in the hay with the nearest warm body for him.

I gasped and cried out as a fresh wave of grief sliced through me. Hugging my knees to my chest, I rocked back and forth as his words slapped me in the face again and again.

I’d been such a fool to believe what we’d experienced was something special. Now I was just a fool with a shattered heart.

“Okay, so what happened?” Chelsea asked we stepped into line at Starbucks the next day.

I didn’t see a way to avoid talking about it. I’d promised Chelsea I’d tell her as soon as I had something to share. This would be that something. “He told me that he needed someone the other night, and I was the nearest warm body.”

Chelsea’s mouth curved cynically on one side. “I’m sure that’s not true. Did he actually use those words?”

“No, he said, ‘You were the one who was there’.”

Chelsea’s eyes widened. “He did not! And? What did you say?”

I looked away. “That I understood that he needed somebody, and I wanted to be there for him.”

“Ivy!” Chelsea shook her head.

“What?”

“You know, you two are some of the biggest idiots I’ve ever met. And liars, to boot!”

“Hey!’

“You are,” Chelsea insisted. “You lied to him about what you are feeling. Why not tell him the truth?”

“Why humiliate myself when he’s made it clear he doesn’t feel the same? And I mean that literally. He said, ‘I don’t feel that way about you.’ It doesn’t get much clearer than that.”

“You lied. Don’t you think it’s possible he was doing the same?”

I wish, I thought, stepping forward in line, though I didn’t say it aloud. I didn’t want to give voice to something I’d been secretly hoping for. It was a fool’s hope, anyway. I’d gotten involved with an emotional shut-in who used sex to make himself feel better. It had never been about me.

Instead of answering, I pretended to be distracted by something to my side, using the old I-think-I-see-someone-I-know-in-the-distance routine.

And it turned out, I did see someone I knew.

Two someones.

Icy tingles pulsated up my spine and my mouth parted as I stared across the eatery to where Ian sat in a booth across from Mallory. Mallory reached her hand across the table and stroked Ian’s wrist. He followed her fingers eyes and his mouth turned into that sexy grin I knew so well.

I swayed on my feet and took a step backward. My mouth tasted like soot – soft, furry, grungy – and a ringing started in my ears.

I blinked hard, hoping the nauseating scene would turn out to be nothing but a figment of my twisted imagination, but the sight of them together was still there when my eyes opened. Revulsion bunged in my throat.

I was just processing my brain’s delayed command to look away, when Ian looked up. Our eyes locked. For a moment, his mouth slackened, and he actually looked wounded. Then, as if a switch had been flipped, a mocking light filled his eyes. The smirk returned to his mouth.

That hurt more than anything. He’d already hurt me; why would he want to rub it in? Why would he want to be so cruel?

Mallory followed his gaze and, to add insult to injury, a triumphant smile moved over her aristocratic face.

Chelsea, who seemed wholly unaware of all this going on, tugged on my arm. “Ivy? We’re holding up the line.”

I stepped forward, then shook my head and stepped to the side. “You know what? I’m not really in the mood for coffee. I think I’m just going to go home.”

“Home? What—?” Chelsea began, but I was already fleeing.

As much as I hated for Ian to see me scurrying away - to give him the satisfaction of knowing he’d driven me to do so - I could not stay. If I did, I might break down again, and in public. That couldn’t happen. He’d consumed my head and decimated my heart, but I still had my pride.

***

The sun came out Friday morning. It would have been a welcome change from the gray and gloomy week if the humidity hadn’t spiked to muggy and unbearable by mid-morning.

“It’ll be very Mardi Gras-ish,” Amery declared when I arrived at her house that afternoon to decorate for Casey’s party. Nevertheless, after an hour of transforming her house into a Mardi Gras marvel, even she had begun to complain about the stickiness of the air.

Three hours later, I groaned as I trudged up the three flights to my apartment. The heat had sapped all my energy, and after spending three hours setting up for the party, I wanted nothing more than to crawl in bed and sleep for the next twelve hours. If the party was for anyone else but Casey, I probably would have skipped it.

I banked on a shower and a couple shots of espresso to perk me up. I had the latter in hand and was about two minutes from hopping into the first. I really wanted a nap, a chance to recharge my batteries, but there wasn’t time. It was almost six; Jayden would be coming to pick me up at seven.

After two days of moping, I’d woken up yesterday with a new sense of purpose. So, I’d gambled with Ian and I’d lost – I’d known the risks going into it, and now I just had to suck it up. Ian may have broken my heart, but he hadn’t broken my spirit. Besides, I had plenty of other things going for me. I had a good GPA (3.7 at the end of last semester), some pretty great girlfriends, and a hot and fun guy who actually wanted to be around me. Plus, Dr. Wilkinson asked me to stay behind after Wednesday’s class to tell me about a private grant she’d just received to do a comparative study between women’s sexual fantasies and sexual realities, and she invited me to be part of her team.

I’d been high off the invitation, so when Jayden called that evening, I’d invited him to the party without a thought.

I kept telling myself that I didn’t need Ian. Who really needed a best friend who slept with legions of women and committed to none? One who was moody and unpredictable, and tried to dictate my dating life? Who was such a bastard that he would sleep with me and then ignore me like he would any other girl who had climbed into his bed?

Yeah, I needed Ian Hollister like I needed a hole in my head.

I reached the third-floor landing and mopped my brow with my sleeve. And I tried my damndest to ignore the niggling voice in my head:
you may not need him, but you still want him.

“Stupid voice,” I grumbled, letting myself into the apartment.

The next hour was a whirlwind of showering, blow-drying, curling and pinning my hair up on my head. I did full make-up, and after going through my closet, decided to wear my new purple velvet top over a short, black skirt.

Actually, it couldn’t be a more perfect choice. The color was theme-appropriate, and trying it on revealed it to look just as good at home as it did in the store – score! There was one little problem, though…

Studying my reflection in the mirror, I could still see faint evidence of the hickey on my neck. I lifted my hand and rubbed my thumb over the yellowish skin. It was the only physical proof remaining of my night with Ian.

I pressed my lips together and my thoughts surged with unbidden memories. I hadn’t forgotten what it felt like to have his body pressed against mine, the brush of his mouth on my skin, the feel of his strong and sure hands exploring my every curve. I felt an acute ache in my chest just thinking about it.

Despite the aftermath of that night, I couldn’t deny that I still craved his touch.

“But you were just the one who was there, Ivy,” I said in a harsh, resentful voice.

My hand dropped from my neck and I gave myself a hard stare. Shaking my head, I marched to my dresser. Rummaging inside the second drawer, I pulled out a handful of scarves. I found a gold and white print that, when paired with the purple top, screamed Mardi Gras. I returned to the mirror and wrapped it around my neck, tying it in a small bow. The tails fell down on either side of my right shoulder, aviator-like.

There. The last shred of physical proof of that night was properly hidden.

The doorbell rang a few minutes later. I went to answer it and let Jayden into the apartment. He looked great in a blue shirt that really brought out the blue in his eyes.

“You look beautiful,” he told me.

I blushed and thanked him, then ushered him inside. “I’m almost done. Give me five minutes and I’ll be ready to go.”

Minutes later, I was putting on a pair of shoes when the door swung open and banged against the wall. I flinched, then whirled around as Ian barged inside. “Ian, what…?”

“I need to talk to you,” he said, kicking the door closed behind him. His chest heaved, his hands twitched at his sides, and the look in his eyes was wild and kind of disturbing. “Now.”

I shook my head in amazement. I didn’t know why I was so shocked to see him. Ian’s timing had always been impeccable. We weren’t even talking and yet, he still managed to sense something was going on that he had to intrude on. Was he wired with some kind of sensor that went berserk any time I did something that didn’t include him?

Warning! Warning! Ivy’s stopped thinking about you for more than a minute! Time to go remind her!

When I recaptured the ability to talk, I narrowed my eyes and snarled at him, “I can’t talk to you right now. Maybe you didn’t notice, but I have a date.”

“Yeah, it was a little hard to miss,” he remarked, a muscle ticking in his jaw.

With an exasperated huff, I moved around the room, gathering my things and cleaning up to hide my anxiety. That was what I had to do at that moment; keep moving, not look him in the face, never let him see how rattled I was.