by J. Saman
“Who was it this time? Movie star in rehab or rock star gone wrong?” I tease, but in reality, I think her job is aces.
She is a publicist to the stars, and the best in her field at that. Sophia is ruthless, and to put it in her words, you don’t muck around with a bitch like her.
It’s just one of the many, many things I love about my sister.
“Movie star. Such a fuckwit.” She rolls her pretty gray eyes, the same color as our father’s, and then gives me another hug. “Are you done for the night, or do I need to start drinking by myself?”
“I’m done, but I need a shower and a change before we go out. I’ll have to ring around if you want to meet my mates.”
“Of course I want to meet your mates,” Sophia gives me a look that says I’m an idiot for thinking otherwise. “And I want to meet that bloke you’ve been getting on with.”
“You’ll meet him. I have plans with him tonight anyway.”
We walk outside into the rainy yet mild evening, and Sophia loops her arm through mine. “I’ve missed you, Ivy girl. What the hell am I going to do with you all the way across the country?”
“Come visit?” I muse.
“I hate the east coast of this bloody country. It’s cold, even when it’s hot. The people are not a friendly lot.”
I laugh, shaking my head as we slip into my car and drive toward my flat.
“You live in L.A. and are one of the nastiest women I know.”
“But that doesn’t mean other people have to be rude now, does it? There’s a certainty in the deception of L.A. A level of expectation that comes with the lies, but at least people are cordial to your face. On the east coast they’re all honest and forthright and cruel. It’s unsettling. You’ll see.”
“Whatever you say.” Sophia and I laugh all the way home, chatting like we haven’t seen each other in years instead of a few months. She’s committed to getting us all decked out for a night out at the pub, and though Cello’s is a nicer bar, it’s certainly not a club.
“Bloody oath, this one for sure.” Sophia walks into the bathroom, the heels of her boots clicking against the tile floor, her hands showcasing a silver dress. Not just any silver dress, but the silver dress I wore the night of my one-night stand with Luke a decade ago.
“No.”
“Yes. You’ll look scrumptious in this frock.”
“Not that one.”
She nods her head emphatically, shoving the shiny material at me with determination. “Stop being a prude and put this on. We’re running late, and if my liver doesn’t get a steady dose of alcohol in the next hour or so, I won’t be responsible for my actions.” She widens her eyes for effect.
This is really the last dress on the planet I want to wear tonight, but for some odd reason, I don’t want to tell her about that. I never once mentioned my one-night stand with Luke, and though I think she’d be proud of me for it, I find I want to keep that night for myself.
I grab the small dress that will show more skin than it will cover and slip it on over my head.
“Gorgeous. Let’s go.”
I get a ring from Claire just as we’re walking out the door, and she informs me that Kate and Ryan are coming as well.
“Just don’t bring anyone home to my flat, Soph,” I tell her right before we walk in. “It’s a one-bedroom, and either you’re on the pull-out sofa or in my bed. In either scenario, I don’t want some strange woman with us.”
“Ivy girl, if I find someone I want to have sex with, I’ll be sure to go to her place.”
“Cheers, mate. Most appreciated.”
I open the door for her, and she saunters in with the type of confidence very few people truly have. But Sophia exudes it naturally. She knows precisely who she is and doesn’t give a toss if anyone doesn’t like it. It’s one of the things I admire most about my big sister, and wish I could emulate.
I like to think I have confidence, and with certain things I do.
I am a very good doctor. I excel in my craft with an aptitude and talent that’s been mastered through years of education, training, and hard work.
And I feel like once upon a time, I was a brave, self-assured woman. I mean, I still am, but when it comes to men, not so much.
I dated here and there, but my first serious boyfriend turned into some crazy possessive stalker who tried to kill me.
Jason and I were in medical school together, and we were both very focused on our studies. I wanted it to stay casual; he didn’t. Slowly, over the months we were together, he began pushing for things in small ways. He didn’t like my friends and went out of his way to isolate me from them. He tried to make it so he was the only man around me in a social setting, and would frequently start fights with me over paranoid delusions of infidelity. Like that scene Kate mentioned when I had dinner at her house.
Then he wanted to live together, but went about it passive-aggressively by slowly moving his stuff into my place, and occasionally refusing to leave. Finally, I realized what was really going on, and I ended it.
That’s when the fun really began.
He would follow me around to my classes, and make a scene if he saw me speaking to another male—no matter who they were. It began to escalate to the point where he would stalk me everywhere I went, and eventually it all came to a head when he went berserk on a fellow student at a study session who had asked me for my number.
He punched the poor bloke in the face, and when I tried to break things up, I got a nice smack across the cheek for the effort.
That was the wake-up call that I should never have required, and I filed a restraining order that night. The car accident was another matter, and even just thinking about it now, terrifies me.
I’ve been working tirelessly to recover from all that, and I finally feel like I’m nearly there.
Now I’m “dating” Luke. But that has a very real and fast-approaching expiration date. An expiration date I’d rather avoid, because I’m so mad about him. So absolutely insanely crazy for him that I can hardly see straight, and it scares the bloody hell out of me.
But it also makes me smile as I spot him in the bar waiting for me.
Luke’s chocolate eyes take me in, heating with a flash of something else I quickly realize is recognition. I’m wearing the dress I wore the night I met him, and the slow impish grin that spreads across his face suddenly makes me glad I allowed Sophia to force this on me.
“Come on, doll,” Sophia pulls me in. Apparently, I stopped moving in the doorway. “I’m parched. I need a bevy before I meet these mates of yours.”
“Manhattan, right?” I look over at the bartender and she’s smiling at me. “I remember you.”
“I’m impressed,” I say, a bit astonished. “That was weeks ago.”
She gives me a wink and then starts fixing our drinks.
“You slagger,” Sophia says to me, playfully nudging my shoulder. “You’re sharing your biscuit with that tasty bloke over there, and yet the hot bartender—female bartender I should add—knows you.” I glare at her, and not for the bartender part. “Oh, come off it. He’s delicious enough to make me consider rethinking my anti-dick stance. And those things do absolutely nothing for me.”
“Stuff it, you nobby cow,” I mutter, gratefully accepting my large drink and taking an equally large sip.
I make the rounds with Sophia, and when she gets to Luke, she gives him a long once-over, inspecting him carefully.
“I’ve heard loads, though I do have to say you’re much larger than my baby sis here let on.” She cups the crotch of his jeans and I nearly spit my drink across the room, but settle for choking it down instead.
Luke laughs, not at all disturbed by the fact that a stranger just grabbed his manhood in public.
“I like to think so, though I do wish she had conveyed my size accurately.” Luke leans his long frame against the side of the bar, looking at my sister with a broad smile. “Ivy did, however, describe you perfectly.”
“Of
course she did, I’m by far and away her favorite person ever.” She touches Luke’s chest, running her bright red nail up and down the center. Suddenly, their little interaction is much more than I can stand.
“That I believe,” he says with a wink and a smile that has my tough-as-nails lesbian sister simpering. Luke does have that effect on everyone he meets, so I shouldn’t be surprised.
Reaching out, he grabs my hand, yanking me into his chest before leaning down to whisper in my ear, “Is this dress meant to entice or torture?”
I giggle like a little school girl. Apparently he has that effect on me as well.
“Both. Is it working?”
“Like you wouldn’t believe. You look so goddamn hot and sexy in that thing I can barely think straight. Please tell me you’re staying with me tonight?”
I shake my head, reaching up to run my fingers through his day-old stubble. “Sophia is here.”
He gives me a sad smile and a nod of his head. “I know. I just don’t like sharing you. Is it wrong of me if I tell you that I miss you when you’re not around?”
When he says things like that, my heart clenches and my stomach fills with butterflies.
“No,” I shake my head, looking up at him. The way he takes me in, studying my face, resembles love so closely that I have to remind myself it’s not. “I feel the same way about you.”
Luke leans down, brushing his lips against me before dropping his forehead to mine, his fingers dancing along the exposed skin of my back.
“Jesus, Ivy, how am I ever going to survive when you leave? I’m so addicted to everything about you.”
I can’t say anything back to that, so I lean up, pressing my lips to his, wordlessly telling him that I feel the exact same way.
“Enough of that lovey-dovey rubbish. She needs a shot of something girly and yummy, because despite the Manhattans she slugs down, she’s not a boozer,” Sophia informs the bartender, so close to Luke and I that it almost feels like an invasion.
The bartender examines Luke for a beat before turning back to me with a wink. “I’m going to make you two. A pop my cherry, and a bend over Shirley.”
I burst out laughing. “You’re razzing, right?”
“Definitely not when it comes to sex-themed shots.”
“Oh, yummy,” Sophia says. “Make mine a tight snatch.”
“Bloody hell, Sophia.” I’m laughing so hard I have tears rolling down my face. Luke’s arms are wrapped tightly around my waist, but he’s laughing too and so is everyone else. Only my sister can get away with things like this.
“And what about for me?” Luke asks, leaning forward.
“For you?” The bartender half-sneers, eyeing him closely. “How about a blow job?”
Luke laughs out loud. “There are way too many things I could say to that, but I’ll accept it only if my girl here takes it and you make one for all these beautiful women at the bar.”
“Coming up.” The bartender shakes her head with an amused grin.
“But I wanted a redheaded slut,” Claire whines, suddenly joining our small gathering. “It’s my calling card.”
“I really don’t need to hear that,” Ryan says with a scowl.
“Lighten up, boss. Last I checked you’re not my dad, and if I want to take a pretty lady home with me tonight, I’ll do it.” Claire sticks her tongue out at him like she’s six, and we all laugh some more.
Luckily we’re saved by the overwhelming amount of shots that are placed on the bar top, three in front of me—including something with whipped cream on top.
I can only guess at which one that is.
“I can’t do all those. I’ll be sick.”
“I’ll take these two,” Luke says. “But no way I’m not watching you take that blow job shot. You do know you’re not supposed to use your hands, right?”
I shoot him a look, and he throws his hands up in surrender. “I don’t make the rules, I just enforce them.”
“You want me to put my mouth around that and drink it down without using my hands?” The moment I say the words ,I instantly regret them. Everyone bursts out laughing at my expense. I turn three shades of red, and Luke pulls me into his chest, vibrating with mirth.
“Could you be any more adorable?” he asks, kissing my temple. “That was so much better than you actually taking the shot. Besides, I like it when you use your hands. You have my permission.” Now I’m blushing even harder as I push him back and smack his chest. “What?” He feigns innocence. “Just stating a preference here.”
“Men,” I grumble, before picking up the drink and tossing it down. It’s smooth and creamy and delightfully yummy. Licking my lips, I turn to face Luke with a naughty gleam to my eye and a wink.
“You’re evil for tempting me like this. First, you come in here wearing the best dress ever created, and now you’re taking blow job shots and licking your lips. If I didn’t adore you as much as I do, I’d pull you into the bathroom and have my way with you.”
“That’s oddly endearing,” I say.
Everyone else is chatting away and taking their shots and having fun—especially Sophia who is having a field day with Claire and Kate.
“Are we still on for my meeting your parents tomorrow?” Luke asks, his fingers gliding up and down my exposed arms. He can’t seem to stop touching me tonight, and I’m certainly not complaining.
I think it’s the dress. It must be the dress.
“We are, if you’re still interested in meeting them. I’ve warned you about my dad. He can be a bit . . . much sometimes.”
“I want to meet them,” he says calmly. “I want to do everything with you.”
I’m swooning. I never really grasped the meaning of that word until this precise moment, but that’s exactly what I’m doing.
“You mean that?” I can’t help but ask, hope burrowing a hole inside my chest and taking up residence there.
“Yeah, baby, I mean that.” Luke’s hand cups my cheek as he stares intently into my eyes. “I’d say I didn’t expect this, but I think I did. Are you okay with that?”
I swallow hard before nodding. “I’m afraid.” We’re opposites in so many ways. I mean, I guess we also have a lot in common too.
But I never expected to fall this fast and this hard for this man.
“I know, me too. We’ll figure it all out. You have another ten days left, and I’m not ready to let you go yet.”
16
Luke
* * *
Ivy’s apartment is loud and warm, thanks to the raucous laughter coming from her sister Sophia and Claire. The two of them hit it off instantly last night amongst a fleet of dirty-named cocktails. There may have even been a shared kiss between them, but Ivy will neither confirm nor deny.
Tonight is a pre-wedding party—because apparently we don’t party enough as a group—proposed by Claire in lieu of a bachelorette party that Kate was vehemently opposed to having. Ryan doesn’t care about having a bachelor party all that much and his brother Kyle, who is the best man, won’t get here until the day of the big event anyway.
So that leaves us with this little wine party that Ivy offered to host, since she won’t be attending the wedding with me.
The wedding is exactly two weeks away, and though I know Duchess Kate is completely on board with her future with Ryan, she is standing by his side watching everything with the silent observation that can only come from overthinking.
I feel for her, I really do.
I can’t begin to comprehend what’s going through her mind.
Kate lost her husband and young daughter to a drunk driver almost four years ago, but that isn’t a heartache that ever goes away. I imagine that even if this is a happy time, it is also a very painful one.
Ryan, being Ryan, is already attuned to the shift in her demeanor and has kept a protective and comforting hand on her back all night.
It’s yet another reason why I love him like a brother.
He is good people—the best rea
lly. As I scan the room, I realize I’m stuck in my own form of quiet contemplation. These people, these friends of mine, don’t really know me, and yet they’ve accepted me anyway.
Sure, Ryan knows to a certain extent, but that’s because he did his research and pieced together the rest.
I have never told him anything outright, but that never seemed to be a hindrance to his trust or loyalty to me.
Kate too. She loves me unequivocally and without challenge or doubt.
So why do I not trust that their love and acceptance would remain true and intact if it were challenged with all that I have done? All that I am doing and capable of?
And then there is Ivy.
It is amazing how much I love her.
How I have grown to need her in such a short amount of time. The thought of losing her is more than I can endure, and though she’s leaving so very soon, it will never fully be over for me.
I met her parents today, which was oddly my idea. They were definitely not what I expected, though Ivy did warn me. Her father seemed to like me enough especially after she introduced me as her friend and promised him that’s all we are.
He gave her a skeptical look, clearly reading between the lines.
Can’t exactly blame him for that.
I have never witnessed a normal family before. One where the parents love each other and their kids, and no one drinks too much, beats, or degrades anyone intentionally. It was an eye-opening experience and filled me with longing.
That brings me back to my reality. The reality that goes beyond the simple, non-issue of distance. The reality that I’m not who she thinks I am. The reality that she’d leave me for good if she knew. The reality that I love her enough to let her go.
But maybe she doesn’t have to know? Maybe we can suspend reality for just a bit longer?
Because she’s mine, and as I said before, I need her. In fact, I think she may just own me.
So yeah, I’m going to have to give that one my best shot and hope we come out together on the other side.
Ivy is on her second glass of wine but has yet to take a sip from it.