“Fornicate?” I stifle a laugh. Fucking hell, this girl. “One minute you’re swearing, and the next you’re using delicate words like you’re a Sunday School teacher. But on that note, you’re right. I talked about ways I wanted to fuck you silly.”
Her face whips in the direction of Gaston. She’s blushing hard, probably embarrassed as fuck I’m saying what I am to her in front of somebody else. But I don’t care. She’s rattled me, and I wholeheartedly blame her for the blue balls I’ll be succumbing to behind closed doors tonight.
When she sees how unaffected Gaston is, she leans back into me and angrily whispers, “When you said you wanted to give me a ride, I didn’t think it was code word for being a dick.”
I chuckle contritely. “A dick? Ivy, I’m going easy on you. If I were anymore of a dick, I’d have called you a tease.”
Her mouth drops and something like pain shoots through her features. “I’m not a tease!”
“Is that what you tell yourself?”
She goes still, her blue eyes widening as she inhales sharply and clasps her hands together. She looks down into her lap, and I notice her chest begins to rise and fall faster. Something’s not right. I’ve touched a nerve. One that tells me I’ve made a grave mistake saying that.
Shit.
“Alright,” I quickly amend, pulling apart one of her hands with my own. “You’re not a tease. Forget I said that. That was low of me. I’m a fucking dick, right? You just said that yourself. I’m just… insanely fucking attracted to you, Ivy. In fact, I’m biting my tongue to stop myself from begging you to come to my place, and if there’s one thing you should know, Ivy, I never beg.”
Once more she trembles, and I catch how conflicted she is. She’s internally battling something big. I can tell. On top of that, her home life isn't going to be easy with a man she's technically not with. I shouldn’t have asked to take her home, but there’s a feeling I’m getting from her that tells me she’d rather be here than with him.
“You’ve been hurt,” I tell her quietly. I can see the pain lingering in her. I reach over to her face with my other hand and sweep her beautiful hair behind her ear before I can even think to stop myself.
Her breath catches in her throat and she stares down at my hand over hers. “I would never play with someone's emotions, that's not who I am,” she says quietly. “I’ve been done over by enough people to know better. That isn’t me.”
Touchy-feely conversation. I shut my eyes for a moment and try to push away the immediate anger I feel toward myself. I’ve done it again. Put myself in a position around a woman capable of getting through to me. Fuckin’ hell, I’m disturbed by the sympathy I feel for her. I shouldn’t care. I should just shrug and go, “Meh, that’s life, sweets. People get done over by just about anybody.” But I don’t. I’m incapable of doing it. I don’t want to be the cause for more hurt.
Instead, I convince myself that what I’m doing is harmless. I’ll never see her again after this night, so it doesn’t matter that I’m holding her hand to me like this or trying to comfort her. It’s harmless.
I’m lying to myself, of course.
“I believe you,” I tell her solemnly. “You don’t look like the kind of girl that would tease or play around. I know that. I got angry.”
“I’m sorry, Aidan.”
“Stop apologizing. Like I said, I believe you. The fault is my own, Ivy, for what I said.”
She looks up at me carefully, trying to discern whether I’m telling the truth or not. It’s like she needs to know I’m not tickling her ear. Then she leans into me, her face stopping inches from mine and whispers, “Just so you know, I’m insanely attracted to you too.”
My chest tightens and I can’t for the life of me recall the last time a woman had me this intrigued. Not for a very long time, but even then, it was under completely different circumstances.
Ivy is… raw. There’s something… delicious about her.
I play off the feeling and smirk down at her. “Of course you’re insanely attracted to me. There’d be something wrong with you if you weren’t.”
She doesn’t laugh, but she smiles slowly. It barely fills her face, though. She’s too busy watching me with this soul sucking wistfulness.
I’m in deep fucking trouble with this girl.
*
The car stops in front of a decent looking apartment building. I step out with Ivy and pull out her giant bag from the trunk. I pause momentarily. This is all she came with. No other luggage, just this carry-on. I frown to myself. Did she flee the last time she left from here? And if all she left with was this bag, does that mean she feels she has to return?
She’s jittery next to me, looking over my shoulder and up at the apartments with weary eyes. I follow her gaze, but the lights are all out in the building.
Another twist in the gut that something strange is going on.
She doesn’t want to be here.
“Let me walk you to the door,” I tell her.
She focuses back on me and gives me a shy smile. I take her to the entrance door and she pulls out her keys from one of the pockets in her giant purse. I wait for her to unlock the door, holding back the bite of anger I feel that I’m actually going to walk away and never see her again. But she stands there for several moments, staring at the glass door, almost like she’s indecisive about something.
She might run.
Please, run.
“I liked our talk,” she then says quietly.
“I liked our talk too,” I reply honestly.
She turns to me, and my eyes have a mind of their own, lapping her body
