by J. Saman
Kate and Ryan stand, and Kate throws me the most apologetic look in the history of apologetic looks. I just smile, waving her away. What the fuck can I do about it anyway? She’s drunk and didn’t say too much.
I don’t even know if she knows all that much.
Ryan isn’t usually one to divulge, so I’m guessing my Duchess is going on a hunch. Not a wrong one, but a hunch all the same.
“You ready to go up and try out that hot tub?” I ask Ivy as we stand. Ryan, the stupid rich prick, hired help for our little night away. That help includes a chef and cleaning service, so we don’t have to clear our plates or do the dishes.
Personally, I think he was buttering us up with this, but I won’t judge.
“Aren’t alcohol and hot tubbing contraindicated?” Ivy asks.
“Probably, but I won’t let you drown. Promise.”
Ivy smiles and allows me to lead her upstairs and down the hall, and I swear it takes us a solid five minutes to make that trek.
But once we enter our suite, I’m blown away. The fire is roaring in the hearth and the hot tub has a layer of pink rose petals floating on the surface.
“Did you knock me unconscious and drag my lifeless body to an over-the-top five-star hotel?” Ivy asks, her jaw slightly agape.
“No, but that would be tempting if this place wasn’t amazing.”
“So, is this the point in the evening when I get naked and you get naked, and we sit in the boiling hot water while I try to ignore all the thermophiles in there, and we chat about nothing of importance?”
“Um . . . Yes?”
“Good.” Ivy turns to me, placing both of her palms on my chest. “Because I’m a little buzzed, Luke. And I think I like you against my better judgment, and I think . . . I shouldn’t.”
“I know, honey.” I lean down to kiss the tip of her cute nose.
“Why did you have to come back now? And why couldn’t you have left in the middle of the night again?”
I chuckle, though there really isn’t anything funny about what she’s saying. In fact, it’s so absolutely gut-wrenching that I feel the slice throughout my entire body.
This girl just has me. It’s not even wanting. It’s way beyond wanting. We’re bordering on need here. Big, fat, ugly need.
But how do you say no to the angel of your dreams?
How do you push back from the one you let slip through your fingers a decade ago?
You don’t, right? You go for it, even if you know, you fucking know, that she’ll cripple you. Or worse yet, that you’ll cripple her because there is no way we can have a happy ending. It’s just not possible for me.
I lower my forehead to hers, staring into her eyes that are almost a smoky gray against the firelight, which serves as the only illumination for our room.
I’m falling for you, I don’t say.
“I’m in trouble,” I choose instead.
“Me too, I think, but I don’t want to be, Luke. I’m half-tempted to call this quits and save myself the heartbreak.”
Just that simple thought fills me with more dread than I ever thought possible.
“There’s no point in doing that. I’d still want you even if I couldn’t have you. It’s still fun. It’s still no strings. Don’t overthink this, Ivy.” The words burn my throat and taste like battery acid as I swallow them down. I hate lying to her like that. But I can’t lose her either. Not yet.
I’m not ready to give her up.
She swallows hard, blinking up at me. “Then let’s go soak in the water for a while; it looks heavenly.”
She strips down to nothing, standing there naked with the flames of the fire licking an orange glow up her skin. She’s so beautiful. So stunningly gorgeous without even the smallest hint of insecurity at her nudity as she stands there, allowing me to drink her in.
“I’m jealous of the firelight.”
She tilts her head, a small smirk bouncing on the corner of her lips.
“Those flames are dancing all over your body, every single place I want to touch and kiss.” Her cheeks heat, but she doesn’t look away.
“Are you ready?” she whispers, this moment too intimate, her desire too great, for her normal tone.
I strip down too, her eyes soaking me in the way mine did with her. Once she’s satisfied with my lack of apparel, she reaches a hand out for me.
I accept it, feeling a zing of electricity that is so familiar and yet I never grow used to it. How can it be like this each and every time I’m with her? How can I still possibly crave more?
We sink into the blistering water that smells of chlorine, and I hit the button to turn on the jets. Ivy leans back, resting her head on one of the cushions and closes her eyes. She’s content, peaceful even, and I can’t stop watching her, wanting to absorb some of that for myself.
“When was your last relationship?” Her eyes don’t open as she asks me this, her voice half-lost in the sound of the jets. “Other than that girl in college?”
“No one.”
Her eyes open wide at my answer as she regards me with astonishment.
“Really?”
I nod, not wanting to elaborate on the reasons behind all that and praying she won’t ask. I’m not ready for that conversation. I doubt I’ll ever be.
“That surprises me.” It’s a simple statement, but the meaning behind it is anything but. She’s asking me why without being direct about it, and I refuse to bite. Ivy sighs out when she realizes that. “Do you think you and I would be if I weren’t leaving?”
That’s good question, Ivy.
“I don’t know. I’d love to say yes.”
“But?” She voices the word I didn’t.
“But it’s a moot point right now, so why question it?”
She nods, giving a half-shrug, but there’s a slight frown marring her expression. “I guess you’re right.”
I slide through the water, displacing some over the edge as I move to sit directly beside her. “The truth is, I doubt I’d be able to stay away. I can’t even seem to do that now, so . . .”
Ivy climbs onto my lap, steam undulating in the air as it rises from her body. Her arms encircle my neck. It’s cold out here, but the water makes that experience—the dichotomy between freezing cold and boiling hot—pleasurable.
“Did you know that you’re my one and only one-night stand?” I don’t respond; I just stare at her. “Did you know that you’re also the only man I’ve ever had no-strings sex with? I don’t do this, Luke. I’m a relationship sort of girl, but I’m having fun with you. I really am, and maybe it’s time I allowed for that to be okay.”
“I didn’t mean to make you think I wouldn’t want more with you.”
She shakes her head, beads of water running down her neck and chest. “No, I’m being serious. I tend to overanalyze everything, in case you haven’t noticed,” she says, giving me a playful smirk that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “But with you, there’s really no need, and that’s oddly refreshing. It’s like, for once, I don’t have to think this through.”
Why does that hurt so much to hear?
Why do I want her to beg and plead to be mine?
I could love you, Ivy. I could love you forever if being with me wouldn’t break you.
“You ready to get out?” she asks, slipping off me and wrapping herself in a giant fluffy white towel. “I’m freezing.”
Fun with no strings. What a stupid fucking idea. Especially when I know, I know, we’re both doomed.
13
Ivy
* * *
It’s a rare day for me. Usually, I work twelve to fourteen-hour shifts–if I’m lucky–and those usually end either first thing in the morning or late into the evening. But as I said, today is rare. Today I’m working a swing shift and that has me finishing up at noon. Amazing.
And to add to that, it’s an uncommonly beautiful, cloudless day.
So what are my grand plans for the day?
I have none.
Luke
is working since it’s a Friday, and that’s what people with ordinary jobs do during the week. I should go back to my flat and pack. I should make the dozen or so phone calls that I need to make and get things settled for Boston. I moved my plane ticket. I haven’t even mentioned that to Luke yet, but I was scheduled to depart on a Monday and I pushed it back to that Wednesday instead.
A little more than two weeks from today.
Crikey, it’s coming on fast.
I should be excited. I should be bloody ecstatic because I’m finishing up two grueling years of fellowship that followed three grueling years of residency. So why am I not bouncing off the walls right now? Why am I not jumping for joy and leaving the moment I check out of this program, racing toward the next?
I’ll give you a hint. It’s a one-word answer.
Luke.
I like him far more than I should.
Which is why when I walk out of the Emergency Department, through the employee exit and toward the parking garage, I’m thinking about him. I think about him the entire three minutes it takes me to get to my car on the second level.
And as if my mind conjured him up out of thin air, he’s there, waiting for me, leaning up against the hood of my car and looking as gorgeous as ever.
Luke’s wearing a black t-shirt that hugs those impressive biceps to a drool-worthy degree, dark jeans and his typical black boots. His face is clean shaven, but his hair is tousled and windswept.
Sexy bad boy meets GQ.
You’d never know this man is a computer nerd, if I could even dare to call him that.
“What are you doing here?” I can’t help the elated surprise in my voice.
“I took the afternoon off.” He smiles back, showcasing that dimple to perfection. “And I wanted to spend it with you.” His mahogany eyes feast on me and though you’d think they’d be ravaged with heat, since that seems to be our thing, they’re not.
They’re the unmistakable eyes of a boy who likes a girl.
Damn him.
Goddamn him and those irresistible flutters taking off all throughout my chest.
“I love that,” I tell him honestly. “What did you have in mind?”
“Well. . .” He pushes off the hood of my car, meeting me halfway. “It’s a beautiful day, Doctor. I was thinking ice cream and a walk in the park.”
Oh lord. That’s it. I’m a goner. Ice cream is my ultimate weakness. It’s like he dialed a direct line into my brain and asked it for the one thing that would make me fall for him. Ice cream and a stroll through the park. Yeah, he nailed it perfectly.
“Ice cream?”
He nods, smiling and looking deeply into my eyes as he wraps his arms around my waist and draws me into his warm body. “I want nothing more than to walk around the city with you and eat an ice cream. It’s so juvenile and innocent that I think we may just be able to pull it off.”
“Have I told you that ice cream is my absolute favorite food in the whole wide world?”
“Really?”
“Right-o.”
“Then I’m really wracking up the brownie points here. A few more of these impromptu dates, and I’ll never be able to get rid of you.”
I can’t help but laugh at that, if for nothing more than the irony that statement presents.
“When do you need to be back here?”
“Tomorrow morning.”
He grins wickedly at that. “Then you’re mine to do with as I see fit. I’m driving. Leave your car here.”
I can only nod because I want absolutely everything he’s offering me. Luke takes my hand and leads me back around to the visitor side of the garage since my car is parked in the employee area. Opening my door for me, he waits until I’ve slipped inside before shutting it.
His car roars to life, the deafening sound of the loud engine bouncing off the concrete walls. “Where are we headed?”
His eyes find mine quickly before turning back to the road, a very satisfied smirk lining his full lips. “I know a place,” is all he says before driving us out into a sunny Seattle.
We pull up in front of a shop not too much later, and as he takes my hand, helping me from the car. I can’t help but admire the sign that boasts homemade ice cream.
Is he trying to make me fall in love?
I mean, he’s not even fighting fair now, is he?
The door jingles with a bell announcing our arrival, and I’m immediately hit with the scent of fresh waffles, vanilla, and of course, ice cream. My mouth instantly waters. I abandon Luke’s hand in favor of the glass case that houses so many different and wonderful flavors that I hardly know where to begin.
“May I help you?” a college-age girl with poor skin asks. I’m nearly tempted to offer her a prescription for it before I remember myself.
“Yes,” I say without waiting on Luke, who’s chuckling behind me, evidently finding my girlish adoration of ice cream amusing. “I’d like. . .” My eyes scroll over the titles and settle on my favorite. “A waffle cone of salted caramel, please.”
“What size?”
“Oh.” Well, I guess this is my lunch, right? “A medium, please.”
“Sure, and for you, sir?” she asks Luke.
He grumbles something under his breath about not liking being called sir but approaches the case with a smile. “Same, only I’d like cookie dough.”
“That’s bloody unimaginative,” I tease, and he looks over at me with a bemused expression. “There are so many other flavors here that are loads more exciting than cookie dough,” I say, wrinkling my nose up in distaste. In reality, I love cookie dough. It’s my second favorite, but I can’t resist the urge to needle him.
“Unimaginative, huh?” I nod. “Then I guess I won’t give you a taste of it.” He leans into me, hovering above my ear. “Too bad, I was hoping I’d be able to taste its sweetness on your tongue.”
My face flushes and not from embarrassment.
“God, I love that color on your skin,” he growls, causing a series of gooseflesh to rise where his breath passes.
I nudge him with my elbow because if he continues this, we won’t make it to the park, and I’m rather looking forward to that.
Luke pays for our cones, and we step outside, licking as we go and groaning out our appreciation. This may, in fact, be the best ice cream I’ve ever had. Why am I only just now finding this place? It may, in fact, be worse than leaving Luke and my parents behind.
“The park’s this way,” he says, pointing down the street. Taking my hand, he leads me into the park that is flaunting signs of early summer. Trees and flowers and green grass surround us as we meander deeper in. I’m hit with its appealing aroma everywhere we go.
“In my nine years of living in Seattle, I've never been to this park.”
“Not surprising,” he says. “You don't have kids or a dog.”
“I guess.” I shrug, not exactly loving that reminder. As we stroll along, I see his point, noting an area that in the summer is designed to be a splash pad for children to play in and a large gated dog park, where there is small terrier having at it. “You don't either, and yet you seem to know your way.”
“I don’t sleep so well, and after being attached to a computer for hours, I like to walk around outside. This park isn’t far from my building.”
“No, I guess it’s not.” I take another bite of my ice cream, thinking his words through. “But you come here at night? I can’t imagine that being a clever thing to do.”
He laughs, pulling my hand and my body into his side and leaning his weight against me. “I’m a big guy, Ivy, and so far, I haven’t had a problem.”
I don’t know what to make of that, so I just let it go.
Turning quickly, I lean over and swipe a taste of his ice cream with my tongue before licking the messy cream from my lips. “Hey, what happened to unimaginable?” he laughs, pulling the cone back and out of my reach.
“What happened to you wanting to taste it on my lips?”
“Good p
oint. Come here.”
We pause, turning to face each other as his head dips down to mine and our lips meet. It’s not a passionate kiss. It’s actually rather sweet, no pun intended. It’s also quick. Luke pulls back, licking his lips as he goes.
“It tastes better on you.”
“Well, then let’s see about mine.” I practically shove my ice cream into his mouth, making him jump back, chuckling as he goes. I manage to swipe it on the corner of his mouth and up his left cheek a bit.
I’m laughing so hard, I might actually drop my cone, which would be tragic.
“That was dirty,” he says, feigning indignation, but his eyes are sparkling.
“Then let me clean you up.” I lunge for him, practically toppling us both over and causing a startled rumble from his chest. I kiss and lick his face until there is no evidence of my crime remaining. “There. Better now?”
“You really are the best kind of trouble, Doctor Green. And in this moment I wish you had gotten a cup instead of a cone. There is something far too erotic in watching a woman lick ice cream off a cone. It's like easy porn for men with weak imaginations. I believe I said juvenile was the goal.”
“You don’t strike me as someone with a weak imagination, despite your choice in ice cream suggesting otherwise,” I smirk as we restart our jaunt.
“With you, my imagination is boundless.”
We continue on, approaching a playground that has me smiling broadly. Maybe it’s the pediatrician in me, but I could spend hours watching children play. I pull him inside the fenced-off area, and we sit on a bench, watching two young girls who look like twins, swinging on the swings while their mum pushes them.
“What made you want to become a doctor and work with children?” he asks after a few quiet moments, taking my free hand into his.
“My best mate growing up back home had an osteosarcoma. It’s a tumor of the bone, and he was always in and out of hospitals. Occasionally when he was doing well, I’d be able to go around for a visit. I knew the moment I saw the doctors tending to him that I wanted to be one.”