by Garza, Amber
“Why did you never tell me this before?”
I smirk. “Why didn’t you tell me you had the hots for me back then?”
“Who said I did?”
“Oh, come on, you’ve wanted me for years. Just admit it.” I nudge her in the shoulder. “I bet you’ve even kissed your pillow imagining it was me.”
Ivy pushes away from me, laughing. “Whatever. I did not kiss my pillow.”
“Oh, okay, my mistake. Your teddy bear then.”
Ivy kicks at me with her legs, moving further away. “Jerk,” she mocks me.
I get on all fours and grab her leg, yanking her toward me. Once her body is under mine, I wedge her in between my knees and grab her around the middle. The minute I tickle her stomach she squeals. If there’s one thing I know about Ivy it’s that she’s one of the most ticklish people on the planet. She writhes beneath me, shrieking between giggles. Her whole body shakes and her head whips back and forth, her hair slashing me in the face.
A knock on the bedroom door startles us, and we both freeze. “I’m assuming this is a good scream, but I had to check,” Billie’s muffled voice says.
Ivy throws me an amused look. “Yes, Billie, we’re fine. Thank you.”
I drop down onto my back next to Ivy. “She really cares about you.”
“I know. I’m lucky to have her.”
“And she’s lucky to have you.” I thread her fingers in mine. As we lay together on the bed, I glance around her room. It’s decorated much different than her room was in high school, which I suppose makes sense. I’m sure she doesn’t want any memories from that time. The walls are mostly bare, except for a few framed photographs, mostly of nature. My gaze falls to her dresser where she has a couple of pictures of her and Billie making funny faces. That’s when I notice something familiar. I release Ivy’s hand and sit up, honing in on it. “Is that the time capsule we made in Mrs. Smith’s class sophomore year?”
Ivy peers over at it, smiling hesitantly. “Yeah.”
“I can’t believe you kept it.”
Shrugging, Ivy sits up too. “We were supposed to keep it until we were twenty five, remember?”
I nudge her with my shoulder. “You little rule follower.”
“You didn’t keep yours?” She raises an eyebrow.
“No. I didn’t need to. I wrote that I wanted to be a professional football player. I’m pretty sure that’s not going to happen now, especially since I don’t even play football.”
Ivy laughs. “That’s what you wanted most out of your life?”
“At fifteen, yes. All guys dream of playing sports professionally when they grow up.” I curl my lip upward, while reaching out to touch her hand. “What did you put? That you wanted to be a journalist or something?”
She bites her lip, her gaze dropping to her lap. “Yeah, something like that.”
I can practically see the walls flying up between us, and I wonder when she’ll finally trust me completely. It’s clear that she still has a lot of secrets. I just hope that someday she’ll be able to let me all the way in.
It’s early Saturday morning and I pound on Ivy’s door with one hand while holding two coffees in a cardboard carrier in the other. The minute it swings open I realize I might have gotten here a little too early. Ivy’s hair is pressed against her face, and indentations from her pillow line her cheek. She’s wearing flannel pajama shorts and a tank top, and I can’t keep from staring at her body. She rubs her eyes, and in a groggy voice she says, “Good morning, Asher.”
Billie staggers down the hallway in a robe, her hair sticking out all over her head. She is glaring at me. “Ivy, if he’s going to come over this early please just give him a damn key. I was having a good dream before his insistent knocking woke me up.”
I grin sheepishly at both of them. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine,” Ivy says to me. “Come in.”
As I brush past Ivy, I run a finger along the strap of her tank top. “I’ve got to say though, if I had known what you slept in I’d come over every morning.”
Ivy blushes and wiggles away from me. “I’ll make some coffee.”
“No need.” I hold up the carrier. “I have one for you right here.”
Billie comes further into the room and sinks down on the couch. “I guess I can forgive you if you brought us coffee.”
I don’t have the heart to tell her that the coffees were supposed to be for Ivy and me, so I allow her to take one. I also make a mental note to buy Billie coffee the next time, since now I will most likely have a headache today due to lack of caffeine. Ivy sits down as well and takes a sip from the paper cup. Then she looks up at me with a smile. “You remembered?”
I scoot in next to her. “Of course. I remember all your favorites.”
“Yuck.” Billie practically spews out her coffee. “What is this?”
Ivy glances at me and then back at her friend. “Asher likes just plain black coffee, no creamer. That was probably his.”
Billie looks a little embarrassed as she hands the cup to me. “Oh, well, you can have it back.”
“Billie doesn’t really drink coffee,” Ivy explains. “She drinks creamer with a splash of coffee in it.”
I nod. “Noted. I will do better next time.”
Billie groans, and gets up from the couch. “I’ll just go make my own coffee.”
Ivy and I chuckle as Billie makes her way to the kitchen. I take a sip of the strong coffee and then set it down on the table by my feet. Ivy holds her cup in her lap, both hands wrapped around it. I reach out and brush a sticky strand of hair off her face. “You look beautiful in the morning.”
“No, I don’t.” She stares down at her lap. “I look gross.”
“You could never look gross.”
She takes another sip of her coffee, while smoothing back her hair with her other hand. When she pulls the cup away from her mouth she turns to me. “So, did you come over to help me move Granpda’s stuff today?”
I nod. “Of course. You know I couldn’t let you do it alone.”
She smiles, and it’s all the thanks I need. I take a deep breath. “But I also came over because I have some good news.”
The smile vanishes, and she looks at me with a serious expression. Her voice is tentative when she speaks. “Okay.”
Billie clangs around in the kitchen behind our backs.
“My parents set up a fund for me years ago with all my allowance money and money I earned from odd jobs and things. I actually have a lot of money in it.”
Ivy furrows her brows, and I can tell she’s trying to guess where I’m going with this. Billie slams a cupboard, and then I hear the faucet turn on.
I bite my lip and continue. “I’d like to help you pay to put your Grandpa in a home.”
“What?”
“Yeah, I looked into a couple of places close by. He can get excellent care, and you can go see him whenever you want. Then he won’t have to move in with your mom, and it will be safe for you to see him.”
“Asher, I can’t do that.” She shakes her head, setting her coffee down on the coffee table. When she looks back up her eyes are filled with tears, her lips quiver. One tear spills down her cheek, and she wipes it away.
The coffee maker turns on behind us, the aroma of coffee beans filling the air. But Billie is now silent in the kitchen. I freeze, unsure of what to do. Clearly I’ve upset Ivy, and now I wish I hadn’t pushed this on her.
“Ives, why are you crying?”
“These aren’t sad tears.” She sucks in a breath. “You are so sweet, Asher. I just never expected…no one’s ever cared about me like this. I guess…I just got overwhelmed.”
I lean into her, wiping away her tears with my fingers. Then I kiss her lightly on the cheek, tasting the salt from her tears and erasing them with my lips. I pepper kisses all over her face, trailing them over her cheeks, chin, and under her eyes.
“Geez, get a room,” Billie speaks from the kitchen, and then I hear her f
ootsteps retreat down the hallway.
But I don’t stop. I want to ease all of Ivy’s pain. I want to kiss away her tears. Her breath comes out in shallow gasps as I continue caressing her face. Finally my mouth lands on hers and I kiss her softly, barely grazing her lips with mine. She smiles against my mouth and then pulls back.
“Sorry. I haven’t brushed my teeth yet,” she says.
“You still taste fantastic.”
Grinning, she tucks a strand of hair behind her ear and drops her gaze. “Asher, I really appreciate you trying to help me and my grandpa, but I can’t take you up on your offer. Grandpa would never go for it. He doesn’t want to go to a home. He wants to live with his daughter.”
“I just worry about you, Ives. I’m going back to school in the fall, and I know you’ll keep visiting your grandpa. Who will be there to protect you then?”
She glances up at me, her face pensive. “What did I do to deserve you?”
I grab her hand. “You’re you. That’s enough.”
“I love that you want to protect me, Asher, but I’ve been dealing with this my whole life. I can do it.”
My stomach knots at her words. “But you shouldn’t have to, Ives.” I want to fix this for her. I hate thinking that she has to subject herself to abuse at the hands of her own mom. There’s got to be a way to stop it. And if there is, I’m going to figure it out.
23
Ivy
“Hi, Grandpa,” I say as we walk inside his apartment. Asher’s hand is tucked in mine and he’s doing that swirly thing with his thumb that drives me wild. I just hope my hand doesn’t get all sweaty while he’s holding it. I know my heart is beating so hard it’s like one of the hip hop beats Asher likes so much.
Grandpa is sitting in his recliner when I find him. He looks paler and more tired than the last time I was over, and it cuts to my heart. “Hey, pretty lady.” Even his voice sounds weaker.
“You remember Asher, right?” I ask Grandpa when his gaze lands on him.
Grandpa stares at him for a minute. Then he smiles. “Oh, yeah, the boy with the motorcycle. It’s been a long time since you’ve been around.”
Asher grins. “I’ve been away at school. It’s good to see you again.”
“You too, son.” Grandpa gives me a knowing glance that causes my face to flush.
“Well, Asher’s here to help me pack up the rest of your stuff, so we better get moving. Can I get you anything, Grandpa?”
“No. I think I’m just going to sit here and rest.”
“Okay.” I force a smile even though worry creeps in.
When I reach out to give Grandpa a reassuring pat on his shoulder, he places his hand over mine. “It looks like you finally simplified things, huh?”
I glance up at Asher. “Yes, I think I have.”
When we walk out of the room, Asher gives me a questioning look. “What was that about?”
“Nothing.” I nudge him in the side. “C’mon, we have Grandpa’s room to pack up.”
“Sounds like fun.”
“Doesn’t it?” I tease.
Grandpa’s bedroom is dark, so I open the thick curtains that cover the window to let some light in. Rays of sunshine spill into the room and paint lines on the brown carpet. I cringe at the sight of all the medicine bottles lining Grandpa’s nightstand. It looks like his bedding hasn’t been washed in awhile, and several empty cups litter the dresser. It reminds me of why it’s important for him to no longer live alone. However, it still doesn’t make this any easier.
“You okay?” Asher comes up behind me, running his hands down my arms.
I nod, because his close proximity and his touch make it difficult to speak. Asher’s reflection appears in the mirror above Grandpa’s dresser. His gaze lands on the dresser, and his eyebrows shoot up.
“Hey, is that you?” He moves around me and picks up a framed picture.
I follow him, peering over his shoulder. “Yeah, that’s me and Grandpa. I must have been about ten there.”
Asher touches the tip of my nose. “You were just as cute then as you are now.”
“Oh, please. Look at how short my bangs are. I think that was taken after I’d tried to cut them myself.”
“You’ve always had a mind of your own, huh?” He puts the picture back down, and then his fingers brush over another picture. My stomach lurches when I see which one it is. “Is this you too?”
“Yeah.” I breathe deeply while pointing to the picture. “That’s my mom, dad and I. It was taken a few months before Dad died.”
Asher’s gaze connects with the picture again. “Look at how your dad is looking at you. It’s clear that he adored you.”
“A lot of good it did him,” I mutter under my breath. The familiar dull ache of pain spreads through my chest.
After Asher puts the picture back down, he turns to me. “What happened to him, Ives?”
I whirl away from Asher, forcing away the memories. “I can’t talk about it.”
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked. You don’t have to tell me until you’re ready.”
I swallow hard, and then turn around. “We should get packing. I’ll go grab some boxes. Why don’t you go into the kitchen and get a large trash bag?”
“Okay.” Asher drops a kiss on my forehead and then leaves the room. The minute he disappears down the hallway I press the heel of my hand into my eyes, and will the emotions back down. For years I’ve been so good at hiding my feelings and keeping my emotions in check, but lately it’s all like they’re right at the surface ready to spill out at any moment. Once I regain composure I walk into the hallway and grab some empty boxes.
I hear Asher’s voice coming from the kitchen. I halt and listen, wondering what he’s saying. Grandpa’s soft voice says something in response, but I can’t catch it. Asher’s footsteps shuffle on the carpet, and I head back into the bedroom so he won’t catch me trying to eavesdrop. I throw the boxes on the floor and kneel down in front of Grandpa’s nightstand. After opening the top drawer, I start pulling out contents and throwing them into an empty box.
“I’ve got the trash bag,” Asher says when he re-enters the room. “I guess I’ll start cleaning up.”
I peer over my shoulder at him and smile. “What were you and Grandpa talking about?”
“Just guy talk.” He winks.
I love the idea that my grandpa and Asher were having guy talk, and it makes my insides warm. It seems that everything’s coming together for me. While Asher starts helping me pack up the room, I think about how things are happening so fast between us. Even so, I don’t want them to slow down. For the first time in my life I don’t want to over-think this. I just want to be with Asher because no one has ever made me this happy. And no one has ever made me feel so safe.
Once Grandpa’s room is packed up, Asher heads out to pick up lunch. I start packing away the dishes while Grandpa naps in his recliner. The TV plays loudly in the background, but it still doesn’t drown out his snores. He’s getting more frail, and it scares me. Trying not to worry about it, I focus on wrapping the dishes.
“Hey baby,” Asher speaks from over my shoulder in a seductive voice when he returns. He rests a hand on my waist, and his shadow casts over my shoulder.
I set down the dish in my hand and spin around to face him, wrinkling my nose. “Baby?”
“You don’t like baby? How about honey?”
Again I wrinkle my nose.
“Sweetie?”
I shake my head.
“Dear?” He puts the bag of food down on the counter. The scent of greasy hamburgers wafts from it.
“What are we, fifty years old?”
“C’mon. Help me out here,” he pleads, circling his arms around my waist and pulling me to him. I rest my hand on his chest, savoring the feel of his muscles under my palm. “Now that we’re a couple, I thought I should have a pet name for you.”
“Couple, huh?” I raise an eyebrow.
“Yeah, a couple. Is that okay
?”
I lean into him. “A couple. I like it. It makes me feel like I belong somewhere.”
“You do. You belong right here with me.” He leans over and kisses the inside of my neck, causing a shiver of desire to run through my body.
“Ives,” I say.
“Huh?” He moves back, searching my face.
“Ives,” I repeat, hoping he’ll get the meaning.
“Are you talking to yourself or about yourself in the third person? Either way it’s kinda creepy.”
I giggle. “That’s what you can call me. Ives. You’re the only person who does and I like it.”
“Ives it is then.” He presses his lips to my cheek. “Ives, Ives, baby.”
I roll my eyes. “No baby.”
“I thought all chicks liked that. You really don’t want me to call you baby?”
“Not unless you want me act like one,” I retort.
“Alright. I won’t be calling you that again.” Bringing his mouth to my ear, he whispers, “Ives,” and an involuntary smile breaks out on my face.
24
Asher
“Where are you going?” Reece stops me before I can head out the front door.
Irritation bubbles inside of me. I had purposely slept in to avoid Mom’s twenty questions, and I’m not in the mood to answer Reece’s either. “Just out.”
“With Ivy?”
I whip around to face him. He’s leaning against the wall wearing a rumpled t-shirt, torn jeans and Converse tennis shoes. His hair hangs limply over his forehead, and he’s wearing a silly grin as if he’s the cat who just ate the canary.
“Why do you care?”
He shrugs. “I don’t, but Mom is sure freaked out.”
“It doesn’t matter what Mom thinks. That’s the great thing about being an adult. You’ll understand when you get there.” I give him a condescending smile.
Reece chuckles. “Oh, I don’t have to wait until I’m an adult. I don’t care what she thinks now.”
“Maybe you should. Then you wouldn’t always be in trouble.”
“Dude, you’re fixing that all for me now. Mom has been off my back since you started spending all your time with Ivy.”