Cold

by Max Monroe

  “I’m sorry to bring it up.” He sighed, but I pushed forward. “But I’m more sorry I threw it in your face earlier.”

  The brittle shell he’d pulled into place cracked a little as he tucked some of my hair behind my ear. “It’s not that, Ivy. I don’t blame you for being upset before, and I can’t tell you how much it means to me that you’re willing to keep all of this to yourself.”

  My eyebrows drew together as I tried to figure out what that left to be upset about. “Okay…then why did your face turn—”

  “Into an asshole again?” he interjected, and I laughed a little.

  “Well…yeah.”

  His sigh was heavy, but he tempered the impact by wrapping his arms around my back and running a finger through my hair.

  “Because I have more to tell you. The rest of the story.”

  “The rest?”

  He nodded and searched my eyes. I thought at first it might be to see how I was feeling, but after a few moments, the real purpose became clear.

  He was looking for a life raft.

  Unease and unrest swirling in his gut, he was worried about telling me whatever was left.

  “Go ahead,” I urged, despite the newfound pit in the bottom of my stomach. What the hell else was he hiding?

  “Grace was pregnant.”

  I gasped, the fingers of one hand shooting up to cover my mouth. He closed his eyes tightly at the sound, and I watched, transfixed, as a single plump tear rolled gently down from the outside corner of his eye.

  With a gentle sweep, I wiped the tear away, hoping it was linked to his pain.

  “Levi,” I breathed.

  “It was really early. Six weeks. She hadn’t told me, and I don’t even think she knew. But the autopsy…” He choked, and I forced a sob back down my throat.

  “Oh, Levi,” I soothed, pressing my lips to his cheek and watching, stunned, as two of our tears mingled on his face.

  “Red covered it up. Asked the new coroner not to put it in the report. They’d been friends since they were kids, so he did it. No one knows except the two of us.” He grinned, though there was no happiness in it. “Well, the three of us now.”

  “Why? Why hide it?”

  “It felt wrong, adding to everyone’s burden. It felt wrong telling everyone when Grace didn’t even know. And it felt wrong, giving Gaskins another victim.”

  My heart trilled and spasmed as I worked to make room in my heart. By giving myself over to Levi, I was giving myself over to a hell of a lot more. Grace, and everything she stood for. Levi’s pain at the loss of her and the effects of a relationship unresolved. And a tiny beginning of a baby, one who never got the chance to be loved.

  Levi would walk through fire for the people he cared about; or in this case, he’d lovingly carry the entire load. Grace’s family didn’t have to hurt because Levi took on the pain for them.

  “You’re a hero hidden in an asshole, Levi Fox.”

  He smiled then. Even laughed—a small rolling chuckle.

  “You’re an angel hidden in…” I raised a brow, challenging him to finish the rest. But he was ready for the test, and he’d studied all the right answers.

  His wink was subtle but life-changing. “Hollywood. An angel hidden in Hollywood.”

  “Appropriate,” I praised. “Los Angeles is the City of Angels.”

  “You sure you can’t stay for some breakfast?” he asked as he pressed me into the hard metal of my car. Hands to my hips and eyes full of affection, he looked at me now in a way I’d only dreamed of in the past.

  The morning air was soft and dewy with condensation and felt thick in my throat as I answered. “I wish I could, but I left without saying anything to Cam. I have to get back before she wakes up, and so I can get ready for work.”

  “I can’t believe this is the last day of filming.” His hands tightened to the point of almost pain on my hips. “I can’t believe you’ll be leaving soon.” He laughed—just a tiny, broken chuckle. “I guess I’m finally getting what I wished for, huh?”

  “We’ll work something out.”

  The words were out before I even had time to consider them. Time to consider how ready I was to work to make them happen.

  How to make them happen.

  Levi had been right when he’d said fighting was part of feeling for us. But how could we focus on fighting each other when we had to fight the distance?

  Levi leaned in and touched his lips to mine. His movements soft and slow, he swirled my tongue with his own and inhaled. In perfect unison, we stepped into bliss together and fell into an abyss.

  I’d foolishly thought some of the appeal of Levi’s kiss had been the unexpected. We’d almost always gone at one another without prior consent or intent, and the passion was the potion.

  But I was wrong. It was just as good as all of the times we’d taken each other by surprise.

  And this time, instead of an end to an argument, it was the beginning of something better.

  The wall at my back was firm and steady as I leaned against it outside of Ivy’s dressing room. She’d arrived over an hour ago and gone straight to makeup thanks to the long shooting schedule for the day, and I’d done my best to give her space.

  I wasn’t sure what she wanted the production team to know, and I certainly wasn’t prone to letting strangers in on my business, so going full-on PDA as soon as she arrived didn’t seem like an option.

  But I was eager to feel her body in my arms, and I had been since the moment she’d pulled away that morning.

  I nodded in hello as techies and lighting gurus and various behind-the-scenes people fluttered up and down the halls and tried to look as disinterested as possible.

  My phone vibrated in my pocket as if it knew I needed a distraction.

  My best friend Jeremy’s name showed as the caller, so I swiped my finger across the screen and put it to my ear.

  “Hey, Jer.”

  “Wow. So, you are still alive,” he said by way of greeting. “I honestly wasn’t sure anymore.”

  I rolled my eyes and pushed off the wall with my booted foot, walking up the length of it as I talked. I wasn’t sure what it was about having a phone conversation, but I’d never been able to do it while standing still.

  “Cute,” I remarked.

  “I’m always cute. You just haven’t spoken to me in so long you’ve forgotten.”

  I chuckled a little, glancing up the hall when the commotion changed cadence. One after the other, Ivy and Camilla power-walked into her dressing room and left the door open.

  “Is someone maybe missing me a little bit?” I teased Jeremy as I walked casually back down the hall toward Ivy’s door.

  “You?” Jeremy scoffed. “Not many people miss assholes.”

  His insult was hollow no matter how cutting it seemed, and I didn’t get offended by name-calling all that easily. If I did, I probably wouldn’t be starting a relationship with the woman who’d christened me with more than her fair share of ugly monikers.

  “I’ll have you know one person likes me a lot.”

  Jeremy was quiet, serious. “The actress?”

  I rolled my eyes and laughed. “Yeah, Jer. And she has a name.”

  “Wow. All that hating her is making a little more sense. Ironic, though, given, you know, your mom.”

  I shook my head and growled a little. “Yeah. Thanks for bringing that up.”

  “Better to face those demons now, dude,” Jeremy advised. “The more you sweep under the rug, the more comes back to haunt you later on.”

  “Thank you for your sage wisdom,” I murmured, stopping in front of Ivy’s open door and finally catching her eye. “But I’m in control of this. One thing at a time.”

  She had on a plum-colored tank under a leather jacket, and all of her wild hair was smoothed to pin straight. Her green eyes glowed and her makeup was soft, but underneath all of the work they’d done to make her look like Grace, I could still see Ivy.

  The curve of her hips, the
swell of her chest. The set of her stance and the fire in her eyes. Those were all things even the best makeup crew in the world would have trouble hiding.

  “Sure, sure,” Jeremy mumbled. “You’re in control.”

  “Listen, smartass. I’ll call you soon. Set up something for the four of us, maybe.”

  “The four of us. Christ. Liza is going to lose her shit over this.”

  I glanced down the hall and then looked to the ground as I told him quietly, “Keep it to yourself, though. I don’t know how many people we’re ready to tell about being together.”

  Someone bumped me from behind, hard, and I startled. I spun with my hand to my gun at my hip, but I relaxed when I realized it was just Boyce not watching where he was going.

  He didn’t apologize for bowling into me, but that behavior was hardly anything new.

  “I gotta go, Jer,” I said, pulling the phone away from my ear and hanging up while he was still talking.

  Fuck only knew what other kind of hell he planned on giving me, but I didn’t like the idea of not keeping an eye out anytime Boyce and Ivy had a conversation.

  I knew she wasn’t comfortable around him. I mean, it didn’t take much for anyone to see the physical evidence of her discomfort when Boyce was inside her personal space. It was visible in her tense shoulders, her firm mouth, and the way she wasn’t as willing to freely share her thoughts or opinions when he was around.

  Cam bustled around the room, shooting from one task to the next as Ivy stood by the dressing table in the corner and nodded along to Boyce.

  “First up is the scene where Grace and Levi fight,” Boyce began.

  Ivy’s brows drew together. “I thought that was one of the last scenes.”

  Boyce’s posture turned edgy, and I took a step inside the room. Cam noticed and narrowed her eyes at the look on my face.

  “Well, now, it’s one of the first scenes,” Boyce clipped. “It’s happening today no matter what, so you should still be prepared, right?”

  Ivy glanced to me, and erotic visions of her underneath me in the early hours of this morning flashed before my eyes. Her cheeks pinked and her voice deepened, and I knew she was thinking of the same thing.

  “Of course, I’m ready.”

  Boyce scowled and dropped the rest of the schedule in her lap before storming out of the room and bumping me in the shoulder again as he did.

  I didn’t know what his fucking problem was, but I did know he didn’t want to keep body checking me for much longer if he didn’t want a consequence.

  I moved deeper into the room, shutting the door behind me and closing myself in with the pair of sisters. Instantly, my gaze searched out Ivy, and I smiled when her emerald green eyes met mine.

  Cam’s voice dropped an octave and lilted with accusation.

  “I knew there was something different about you today,” she declared, pointing a finger in Ivy’s direction. “What’s going on with you two?”

  Ivy smiled, and my whole world exploded. Happy thoughts and simple affection, she was excited when she thought about the two of us together.

  Unwilling to let her color it as anything other than what it was, out of fear or uncertainty or deference to me, I slid an arm around her shoulders, pulled her close, and faced Camilla head on, declaring, “We’re together.”

  “Together?” Cam asked. “Together as in…”

  “Together,” I repeated with a smile. “As in dating exclusively and planning to continue. As in, that thing we talked about over pastries a while ago is happening.”

  Ivy pulled at my arm, turning underneath it and narrowing her eyes. “What thing did you talk about?”

  Camilla laughed. “He’s talking about the fact that he intends to be my brother-in-law.”

  “What?” Ivy yelled, and I had to bite my lip to contain my roar.

  “Not tomorrow, baby. Relax.”

  “You relax!” she shot back, and both Camilla and I lost the battle with restraining our laughter.

  Ivy’s face reddened slightly as she swung an angry hand between us. “So, what? The two of you are just going to gang up on me now?”

  I leaned down and touched my lips to hers, and the rest of everything melted away. Ivy’s pseudo-anger. Camilla’s presence. The obstacles ahead of us.

  All of it—gone.

  Pliant and sure, her mouth molded itself to mine and moved in tandem. Her tongue was moist and soft, and the tip of it in my mouth felt like heaven.

  “Oh God,” Camilla finally groaned, but her voice was equal parts amusement and teasing.

  I pulled away slowly, savoring the taste of Ivy’s lips on my own. I wasn’t even a little chagrined.

  “Great,” Cam muttered, but her lips crested up into a smile. “Well, ya little kissing bandit, you’ve got to be on set in two minutes, and your lipstick is ruined.”

  “Shit!” Ivy yelped, jumping up from her seat and rushing over to the mirror.

  I moved to the dressing table and took a tissue to clean up the evidence I was certain coated my face. The reflection of the man staring back at me was impressive. He’d walked through hell, but somehow, someway, he’d come out the other side smiling.

  Flowers and knickknacks littered Ivy’s dressing room as I cruised the perimeter while I waited for her to get changed. It’d been a long day, but filming had finally wrapped. The crew would be here for a couple more weeks getting all sorts of B-roll and various town shots, but the moments in which Ivy Stone had to be Grace Murphy were over.

  The knot in my chest unlooped as I pictured us being able to move on—as I pictured me being able to move on. It’d taken a full six years, but it was time, and Ivy and the movie were the catalysts.

  I guess Old Red knew what he was doing, after all.

  I smirked, thinking about my boss, a man who’d been my champion since before I’d known I needed one. He’d been a straight talker and a friend, but most of all, he’d been a guide even when I was reckless.

  Ivy’s voice carried down the hall, and my eyebrows drew together at how agitated she sounded.

  I listened harder, staring at the dressing table as though it could help amplify the other sense, and then noticed what looked like a framed, candid picture of Ivy. The edges of the frame were ivory and stone, and I was almost certain I hadn’t noticed it before.

  I swiped it off the table and into my hand just as Ivy entered the room, an agitated Boyce hot on her heels.

  “I’m not doing it, Boyce,” Ivy declared, yanking at the sleeves of her leather jacket and pulling it off with a tug. “I’m sorry, but Hugo is happy with my performance, and so am I. I don’t know why you’re not on board, but you’re going to have to get over it.”

  “Get over it?” he questioned scathingly. “I got you this job!” he yelled, moving quickly and getting right in her face, grabbing her violently by the upper arms. She flinched, and I relocated, immediately putting my body between hers and his and pushing him back two steps.

  “Back off,” I warned Boyce, a hand to his chest and fire in my veins. My heart was beating at triple its normal speed, and my focus was hypersensitive. The pulse in my head was intense as I tried to get control of my anger.

  Goddamn, I wanted to knock his fucking lights out.

  “You ever put your hands on her like that again, and I’ll kill you myself.”

  His eyes were beady and defiant, and he foolishly showed no signs of heeding my warning. “Stay out of this,” he ordered. “This film and how I handle my staff are none of your business.”

  With gritted teeth, I pulled my badge from my pocket and slipped it on my belt, making sure to tap it with a finger for extra effect. “That’s where you’re wrong. I’m a cop, I’m the official liaison to this movie for the department, and I’m Ivy’s boyfriend. So, if you’ve got a problem with her, you’ve definitely got a problem with me.”

  Boyce snapped. “This guy?” he yelled, meeting Ivy’s eyes around my shoulder. “A fucking small-town hick? Good going, honey. You can
kiss your career goodbye.”

  “That’s enough!” I yelled, using an easy hand to scoot him out the door. I didn’t shove and I didn’t hit, but the pressure in my hand was way more than a suggestion.

  I was breathing heavily as Boyce stalked off down the hall, pushing PAs and various workers out of his way as he did.

  It wasn’t until I got back into Ivy’s dressing room and closed the door behind me that I realized I still had that fucking frame in my hand.

  Turning it horizontally, I held it up for Ivy to see. “You recognize this?”

  She was quiet, reflective, even, as she studied the anger on my face, but she shook her head no.

  And immediately, my stomach roiled.

  Ripping off the back without finesse, I tossed it to the side and pulled out the photo. It was creepy in the way any truly candid photo was, and it’d obviously been printed on consumer paper rather than at a professional shop.

  And inscribed on the back were two gut-churning words.

  Love, Me.

  “Fuck,” I breathed, fighting the instinct to crumple the thing. I wanted to shred it, tear it into goddamn pieces, but I knew that wouldn’t help a fucking thing when it came to evidence.

  “That’s it,” I declared. “I’m done fucking around. I’m done living this sick shit, and I’m done thinking this is just some jokester. You’re glued to my side, you hear me?” I ordered, pointing at Ivy.

  She was shaking as Cam came through the door and jolted to a stop at the state of the two of us.

  “Jesus,” she murmured. “What’s going on?”

  I pulled my phone from my pocket and scrolled straight to the number for the chief as Ivy filled her in.

  I didn’t have the patience. I didn’t have the time.

  And I sure as fuck didn’t have the stomach.

  Goddamn, was this really my life again?

  “Are you sure you don’t want to eat something?” Camilla asked over her shoulder as she loaded a few plates and utensils into the dishwasher.

  “No,” I responded from the couch. “I’m good, thanks.”