by Sarah Curtis
Chapter Sixteen
Colt
After locking up the house, Colt trudged up the stairs to his bedroom. Cress had kicked their ass that day, and although it was only eight, his body was sore and exhausted. His mind would soon follow. He hit the bathroom before flicking the light off and climbed into bed. Situating the pillow behind his back, he leaned against the headboard and adjusted the ice pack on his shoulder. He tipped his head back, closed his eyes, and savored the sensation of complete body relaxation.
He started to drift and shook himself alert. He needed to call Ivy before he fell asleep. She picked up on the second ring.
“How was your day?” His voice came out gruff, and he cleared his throat.
“Good. You sound tired.”
“Yeah. It was a rough practice. Coach is worried about our matchup on Sunday.”
“Why? You guys haven’t lost a game yet.”
“And he doesn’t want this one to be the first. We haven’t had a great track record with Indianapolis in the past.”
“Well, I’m not worried. You’ll kick butt.”
Colt chuckled. “I’ll pass that along. Maybe he’ll go lighter on us tomorrow. But enough about me. Tell me what you did today.”
“I finished the website for Rosa’s Bakery.”
“That’s great.”
“It is. It means I get paid. But now I don’t have anything new to work on.”
“You’ll get something soon.”
“I was toying with an idea. Tell me if you think it’s stupid.”
Colt scooted down a little to get more comfortable, readjusted his ice pack, and closed his eyes. “I’m all ears.”
“I was thinking of taking an art class. Like real art.”
“What you do is real art,” he interjected.
“You know what I mean. Like with easels and canvas and paint. I’d thought about taking a class in college, but my schedule never allowed it. I had to focus all my time on finishing my degree. But I have the time now. Business is good, better than ever, but it’s still not booming. I’m just not sure if I should waste my time on a hobby.”
Colt frowned. “Why does it have to be a hobby?”
“Well…” She was silent for a moment. “Only really great artists can make any money doing it, and even then, it’s tough. I mean, I can draw, but that’s a totally different animal. I don’t even know if I’m any good at painting.”
“You don’t know that you’re not either. At least not until you take a few classes to find out.”
“So, you don’t think it’s a dumb idea?”
“The only thing that would be dumb is if you don’t try. And who knows, maybe you’ll be the next Van Gogh.”
Ivy’s bark of laughter filled his ear. “I certainly hope not. He didn’t become famous until after he died and was mentally ill to boot. No, I’d be happy if I was good enough to put my art on a t-shirt and make a few sales. It would be kind of exciting to know someone in the big, wide world walked around wearing a painting that I made.”
“I’d be the first one in line to buy one.”
“No, you wouldn’t count.”
He smiled, thinking back on the conversation they had about her singing. “Because we’re having sex?”
“Exactly. It would need to be a stranger. Family and bedfellows don’t count. But I think we’re getting ahead of ourselves. I don’t even know if I’m any good yet.”
“Never hurts to dream.”
There was a wistful quality to her voice when she said, “No, I guess it doesn’t.”
“So, you’ll take the class.”
“I’ll sign up tomorrow.”
“Good girl.”
“I better let you get some sleep. Talk to you tomorrow?”
“If I don’t die first.”
She chuckled before saying, “Goodnight.”
“Night.”
Colt clicked off then made sure his alarm was set before placing his phone on the nightstand. Taking the ice pack off his shoulder, he tossed it on the floor and slid under the covers. The image of Ivy sitting in front of an easel filled his head. He was asleep in less than a minute, a smile tipping his lips.
Ivy
Ivy threw open the door to The Parting Glass and rushed in on a gust of frigid air. Not because she was late but because she was frozen from her mad dash from the car. Her weather app had said it was forty-five, which was unseasonably cold for the first day of November. Added to that, the wind chill made it feel colder. And she did not like the cold. Anything below fifty and she needed a parka, gloves, and snow boots. Unfortunately, she only wore a sweater under a fleece-lined hoodie, jeans, and sneakers.
She hiked herself onto a barstool and slapped the wood in front of her. “Bartender, I need a hot cocoa, STAT.”
Laughing, Emerson raised her head and Ivy gave her a big grin. They’d been hanging out together every Sunday, and Ivy appreciated their friendship. She didn’t have many, and the ones she did have were spread around the country, so only saw them in person once a year for the Con. It was nice having someone in the flesh to talk with. Especially as her time with Colt has been so sparse.
Thinking of Colt, she glanced at the TV. The pregame show was still playing. She checked the time on her phone. Ten minutes until kickoff. After watching for two months, Ivy wouldn’t call herself an expert in all things football, but she could follow the game like a seasoned pro and knew most of the terms—even now knowing going deep was not a euphemism for anything sexual but was, in fact, when a receiver ran far down the field to catch a long pass. Which was a shame, really, because now when Colt said going deep, she visualized a man running instead of him thrusting above her—fantasy ruined.
“One hot chocolate with extra marshmallows.” Emerson plonked a mug down in front of her.
Ivy cupped it between her hands and brought it to her face to breathe in the rich aroma. “You’re a lifesaver.”
“Well, I wouldn’t go that far, but I am happy I’m able to warm you up a little. The heater should do the rest.”
Ivy did notice it was toasty, but she attributed that to all the bodies filling the seats. Business was jamming. “You going to be able to enjoy the game?”
Emerson nodded. “Matt should be here any minute. He’ll take over the bar for me.”
Matt was the new bartender Emerson hired about three weeks before to help lessen her load. And with how busy the place has been, she could well afford the added help. He also made it possible for Emerson to attend home games and was a huge help so she could watch away games in relative peace, like today when the Phantoms played Minnesota.
“How’s he working out?” Ivy took a tentative sip of her cocoa and finding it still too hot, blew on it.
“Good. Now he’s the real lifesaver. Those fourteen-hour days were killing me.”
“I bet. And now you have more time for Oz. Wink-wink-nudge-nudge.”
Emerson’s expression turned disgruntled. “Between both of our schedules, there’s hardly any time to see each other outside of this place.”
“I know the feeling. At least Oz makes the effort to come and see you. I hardly ever see Colt.”
“It’ll get better once the season ends.”
“That’s what I keep telling myself.”
“Did you hear about Linc?”
The subject change threw her, and it took Ivy’s brain a second to process that she hadn’t heard any recent news about Linc. “No. What about him?”
“His sister and brother-in-law were in a car accident. Hit by a drunk driver. Both were killed.”
“Oh, my gosh. That’s awful.”
“That’s not the worst part. They left behind a little girl, Linc’s niece. She’s only four. I don’t know all the details, but I guess Linc was the only family member that could be contacted. He left yesterday for Texas.”
Ivy had talked to Colt the night before and he hadn’t said anything. Sure, their conversation had been rushed, but she still would think som
ething that important could’ve been squeezed in. “That poor little girl.”
“I know. Oz says he’s not sure what Linc’s going to do. It’s going to be hard taking care of a small child.”
“What about the grandparents?”
Emerson held up her hands and shrugged. “That’s all I know.”
“Wow. That makes my problems with Colt seem so trivial.”
Emerson nodded. “Same.”
“Well, if you hear of anything I can do to help, let me know.”
“I will. I’m not sure when Linc’s due back but I know he’ll have his hands full. Especially in the middle of their season. Speaking of which,” she picked up a remote and pointed it at the TV, turning up the volume, “the game’s starting.”
“Hello, ladies.”
“Hey, Matt.” Emerson pulled off her apron and shoved it at him.
“Ivy, may I say how exceptionally lovely you’re looking today.”
Matt was a flirt, but Ivy smiled anyway. “You’re looking pretty snazzy yourself. New hair cut?”
He ran a hand over his close-crop hair that seemed to do the trick of taming his natural curl. “Yeah, do you like it?”
“I do.”
“Hey, what about me? What am I, chopped liver?” Emerson interjected.
“A, you’re my boss, so I’m not supposed to notice how beautiful you are, and B, no way in hell do I feel like getting stomped on by that beefy, football dude who’s always hanging around.”
“And you’re not worried about her football dude?”
He shrugged. “Never see him hanging around. Besides, for Ivy, I’m willing to take the risk.” He gave her a wink.
Ivy knew he was joking, but that didn’t stop a blush from heating her cheeks.
A cheer from the TV drew her eyes. Poodoo, she hadn’t been paying attention to the game. She looked at the score. Nothing on the board yet, but the Phantoms had the ball and had made a first down.
“I’m going to run to the back and whip us up a few snacks,” Emerson said.
Ivy pulled her attention from the screen. “Okay. I wouldn’t say no to some champ fries.”
Emerson laughed. “One order coming up.”
It was third and six and the Phantoms were close enough to the end zone to send their kicker out onto the field to try for a field goal. Ivy watched as he shot the ball through the uprights, giving them the first score of the game.
Matt came to her end of the bar. “I was serious you know.”
Ivy raised her brows. “About what?”
“I know you think I’m just fooling around, but I’d ask you out in a heartbeat if I thought you’d say yes.”
A little flustered, Ivy murmured, “That’s sweet, but—”
Matt shook his head. “No, not sweet. My thoughts for you are anything but.” He leaned a hip against the counter on the inside of the bar. “Listen, I don’t know everything about what’s going on between you and P. Colton, but I have bartender’s ears, and I’ve heard you talking to Emerson.”
“Matt—”
“No, let me finish. I promise I won’t make things awkward.” He continued when Ivy nodded. “I just want you to know, you don’t have to settle with whatever it is you’ve got going on with him. You’re the whole package—funny, smart, and beautiful. If that guy doesn’t get his shit together and figure that out, I just wanted you to know, I’ll be waiting once you decide you’re tired of waiting.” He snatched a rag off the counter. “Now, I’ve said my peace. I’ll leave you to your game.”
He walked to the other end of the bar, but instead of her eyes going back to the TV, they fell to her cup and zeroed in on the lone marshmallow that floated on the surface, refusing to melt. Was she being as stubborn as that marshmallow, refusing to give up on a relationship that wasn’t even one?
She couldn’t fault Colt as Matt so easily did. The whole friends with benefits thing had been her brilliant idea. At the time she’d suggested it, she hadn’t thought it would last so long. Honestly, she thought Colt would’ve ended it weeks ago. Was it time for her to do so? The only reason she hesitated was because she loved the time she spent with him. It was the time apart that was so hard.
And it was when they were apart that she had her doubts.
She didn’t know what to do. The only thing she did know was they couldn’t stay in limbo forever.
Chapter Seventeen
Colt
Colt’s jaw hardened as his coach announced their flight would be delayed another hour. He and his teammates had already been waiting for over three. Soon it would be four. And if the weather didn’t clear up, he might never make it back. Today was the worst day for that to have happened. On Ivy’s birthday.
He pulled out his phone and texted her.
Hey, can you talk?
He knew she’d be busy celebrating, so was surprised she answered so quickly.
Sure.
He exited messages to call her.
“Hey,” he said when she picked up. He didn’t hear anything in the background. “It’s so quiet. I expected to have to yell over all the noise.”
“I moved to the back after you texted. It’s quiet in the kitchen. That and the fact Emerson shut the place down for the night, so there’s not much of a crowd here.”
“Sorry I’m missing the party. My flight was delayed again. Don’t think I’m going to even make the tail end of it.”
“That’s okay. I know you wanted to come, that’s the important part.”
She didn’t sound upset or hurt. He wasn’t sure if that was a good or bad thing. “Did my present arrive, at least?”
“Yes. I have it here with me, but I haven’t opened it. Thought I’d wait for you.”
“No, I want you to open it on your birthday, and with the way things are going here, it doesn’t look like I’ll get back until early morning.”
“Then at least let me open it while we’re on the phone.”
“That I won’t object to.”
“Okay, it’s in my bag. Hang on while I grab it.”
He heard a soft clunk, and then less than a minute later she returned, sounding a little winded. “Okay, I’m back. Now let me just put you on speakerphone so my hands are free.” She came back on a second later, sounding echoey. “Can you hear me?”
“Yep.”
He heard paper tearing and then a soft gasp. “How did you—”
“I noticed you admiring them.”
It had been on their trip to the beach. They’d visited a small jeweler, and she’d been immediately drawn to the pink sapphire stud earrings.
“I don’t know what to say. It’s too much.”
“Nothing is too much for your birthday. I just hope it makes up for me not being there.”
“Nothing can make up for that, but they’re beautiful. Thank you.”
“You’re—”
“There you are.” A male voice intruded on their conversation. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you. You’re not trying to renege on the dance you promised me by hiding back here, are you?” The guy’s teasing held an edge of laughter as though the thought of Ivy not wanting to dance with him was fucking hilarious.
He heard Ivy’s lilting laughter before she replied, “Of course not.”
And then Ivy must have done something to draw attention to her cell because he heard the guy say, “Oh, sorry, didn’t know you were on the phone.”
“It’s okay.” She must have taken him off speaker because her voice sounded far away. “I’ll be done in a minute.”
What she didn’t tell the guy was who she was talking to and that had Colt grinding his teeth.
“Sorry about that. What were you saying?” Ivy asked into the phone.
“Who was that?” He made an effort to keep the bite out of his tone.
In true Ivy form, she didn’t try to pretend she didn’t know what he was talking about. “Matt. He’s the bartender I told you about a few weeks back that Emerson hired.”
“And yo
u promised to dance with him?”
“Yes. Do you have a problem with that?”
She wasn’t being confrontational, it was a direct question, so he answered in the same vein.
“Should I have a problem with that?”
“Not with me, but…” She hesitated just a second, which put him on guard. “Matt has expressed his interest.”
And that had him squeezing his cellphone so tightly he heard a cracking sound in his ear.
“Then I guess I do have a problem with you dancing with him.”
“Does that mean you don’t trust me?”
“No. I don’t trust him.”
“No. That’s implying you don’t trust my judgment. Matt and I are friends, just not the same kind as you and I. He respects that and wouldn’t cross the line.”
Colt wasn’t so sure about that. “And if I told you I don’t want you dancing with him?”
“Then you would need to give me a very good reason for why not.”
And that was the rub. Other than him fucking just not liking it, he didn’t have one. “What if I said I don’t want another man touching you?”
“We’ve had this argument before. You know where I stand.”
Right. He wasn’t her father or her boyfriend.
“I better go. People are waiting on me.”
Like the douche waiting for a dance. Colt locked his jaw, forcing himself not to respond.
“Will you text me when you get home so I know you landed safely?”
“Yeah,” he gritted.
“Okay. Talk to you then.”
“Happy birthday.” But he got no response. She’d already hung up.
Ivy
Sitting in the stands, looking out onto the field, Ivy decided she enjoyed home games best. She felt closer to Colt. Not to mention, the hype she got surrounded by thousands of screaming fans.
Ivy regarded the empty seat next to her. The game was about to start and still no sign of Emerson. She hadn’t said anything about not being able to come. Ivy would give her five more minutes, then text her.