by J. Saman
Once we reach the edge of the dance floor, she turns into me. Tall in her heels, she doesn’t have far to go to meet my eyes. Dragging my hands around her waist, I pull her into me, not bothering with gentlemanly pretenses. Ivy doesn’t resist as her hands snake around my neck, her fingers finding the back of my hair that is too short for her to twist her fingers into.
We start to move and sway to the music.
It’s not a slow song. It’s not exactly fast either, but the way we’re dancing and holding and grinding is not even close to being in sync with the beat. I don’t care and she doesn’t appear to either.
My nose glides down the top of her head into the crook between her shoulder and neck, which just so happens to be one of my favorite spots on a woman.
She smells incredible.
Like vanilla and cinnamon. Like a cookie I would love to devour.
She feels so absolutely glorious in my arms and against my body.
I can’t stop myself from placing an open-mouthed kiss in that spot and I hear her breath hitch, and so I wait for the impending stop sign. But she doesn’t raise it. She’s into this. Into me. And I plan to ride this train as far as it will go.
“You have the most beautiful eyes,” I whisper into her ear, enjoying the way her body shivers against me. “They’re like glaciers.”
“And I’m a sucker for dimples and though you only have one, I guess I’ll count that.”
I’m completely and utterly mesmerized by this enticing creature in a way that I have never been before with anyone. And I only just met her.
I pull back, cupping her jaw in my hand, our faces so close that our breaths mingle.
“What can I do to make you more sure of me?”
She blinks at me, a small smile curling up the corner of her lips. “I’m sure you can think of something to sway me.”
Without thinking of the consequences, I lower my mouth to hers, just for a taste.
I tell myself that it will just be once and then I’ll stop.
But the moment my lips touch hers, I’m a goner.
There’s no going back. I have to have more. I need to have more. Her lips are soft and malleable and fucking delicious. Like nothing I’ve ever experienced or tasted before, and suddenly, I’m ravenous for this girl.
Ivy opens for me without my asking and with that one swipe of her tongue, all reason escapes me.
I’ve never had a woman kiss me like this. So openly. So possessively. It’s like she’s offering me a piece of herself in this exchange, and it’s heady. A soft moan passes her lips, reverberating into me.
“Ivy,” I whisper against her and she smiles against me.
I’ve seen her around campus before, though we never had any classes together. I noticed her from afar. Also, I dated Ronnie for the last year. But I did notice her. She’s impossible to miss. And I’m kicking myself for not having made the effort to speak to her before, because I can already tell that one kiss, one night, won’t be enough.
I’ve never hated myself more than I do in this very moment. I’ve officially blown all chances with this girl before we’ve even begun.
“Okay.” She licks her lips as she draws back with heavy-lidded eyes. “I think you’re officially hot. Way past handsome.”
I chuckle, dropping my forehead to hers. Her stripper heels make her only a couple inches shorter than me.
This is it. My one and only chance with her.
Do I take the high and noble road and let her go, or do I do the selfish asshole thing and try to take her home? Decisions, decisions.
She solves my dilemma for me.
“Do you want to get out of here? Have a drink at my flat?”
My eyes shut, breathing in her scent and feeling her warmth against me.
It’s the purest form of heaven I’ve ever known, and I don’t know how to say no.
But I have to try.
“I do, Ivy. I really do. You have no idea how much I want you.”
She smiles. I can’t see it because my eyes are still shut, but I can feel it.
“I’m the wrong guy for you, though. I lead to nothing good.”
She shakes her head against mine.
“The wrong guy wouldn’t even have given me the warning. You’re a good guy, Luke, you just might be a bit confused with how to go about it.”
“Maybe,” I sigh. “I like to think I’m not as horrible as it feels I am.”
Her fingers run up my jaw until her palms are flat against my face and another sigh escapes my lips, this one involuntary.
“You feel it too, don’t you?”
I don’t have to ask her what she’s talking about. I felt it the moment I grabbed her wrist to stop her from leaving. I felt it the moment I saw her hair fly by my face, and before that when I noticed her walking across campus. She’s different and we could be something different together. Something astounding. Something you encounter once in a lifetime, if that.
It’s been five minutes and I can already tell that.
But I’m going to prison and she’s going to graduate.
I’m headed in the wrong direction and she’s headed in the right.
Life is sort of messed up like that.
“Take me home, Luke. I’ve never done this before, and it’s certainly not my style, but I think I want to break all the rules with you tonight.”
“Lead the way, Ivy. Who knows, maybe we can make our own.”
I’m so fucked.
Chapter 6
Luke
Ivy Green. Are you kidding me?
It’s that old Humphrey Bogart line, right? Of all the gin joints, in all the towns, in all the world.
Yeah, she walked into mine. Twice.
I’m sitting on a bench across the street from Ivy’s apartment building. I’m a goddamn creeper. I know I am. But in my defense, I’ve only ever done this with her. And I did in fact tell her I’d be back early.
I stayed up all night, thinking about what she said and what I said and her situation and my situation and everything else I could have possibly thought about.
It was a lot to go through and as I sit here in the early morning, I’m exhausted, and I have one hell of a headache. But I don’t want to go home. Not yet anyway.
I want to talk to her just one more time. Spend the day with her if I can. I can’t explain what it is about her that I find impossible to turn away from.
Not a good thing, considering she’s leaving in a month.
I get that it’s fast, but it doesn’t feel that way. It feels like a long time coming, and until I see her some more, I can’t let go.
So I pull out my phone, open the message window and send a text. Yeah, I might have stolen her number from Claire. Stop judging!
Me: Good morning, sunshine.
I get the message bubble almost instantly.
Ivy: What? Who is this?
Me: Luke. Who else would text you that? You looked really pretty last night. I think I forgot to mention that.
Ivy: What are you, six? Who says really pretty? And who texts at this hour?
The fact that she’s texting me back has me smiling like an asshole.
Me: You’re right, but if I said you looked hot in that shirt you wore and that I was dying to strip you out of those jeans, I’d get sued for sexual harassment or something, and I make it a point never to get sued.
Ivy: Probably wasn’t too brilliant on your part to have typed that to me then. You know, incriminating evidence and all.
I might in fact love this girl. Seriously. She’s fucking awesome. Maybe I am six. Who calls a woman awesome?
Me: If you read that more carefully you will see that I used the word IF. You’ll note that at no point did I specifically say that I was thinking those things in reference to you. It was more of a general statement.
Ivy: Semantics, Luke. Purely semantics.
Me: Does this mean it’s too late for me to offer up friendship? You know, so I can avoid that harassment suit?
; Ivy: I suppose I’m willing to hold off on legal action for now, and maybe friends is an acceptable alternative. Not so sure on that yet, seems like it won’t work. But you should be aware that my lawyer has already been notified should the harassment persist.
Now I decide to call her because I feel like it’s super sketchy to text that I’m outside her apartment. Some things have to be heard and not read. Especially after what she told us about that fuckwad of an ex last night.
“Why are you ringing me, Luke? It’s bloody seven in the morning on one of my very few days off. You said early, but the rules of common courtesy say after nine is an acceptable hour to ring.”
“I’ve never been particularly adept at following rules or being told what to do—and I’m definitely not courteous. No sense in changing that now. Was your accent always this sexy? I think I’d like to hear that accent in my ear every night and morning.”
“I’m sorry?” she asks. She sounds confused, and rightfully so. “Have you been drinking?”
I can’t help but laugh my ass off at that because no, I haven’t been drinking. Not since last night at dinner.
“No, Ivy. I’m merely proposing we spend time together so I can make you speak to me with that sexy-as-sin accent whenever I want. It may be one of your best attributes.”
“I’ll just hang up on you now. You should get some sleep or eat something or see a doctor other than me.”
It’s actually the sweetness of her voice mixed with that accent. It’s doing something unnatural to my already fucked up brain. Maybe she’s just not getting my cracked-out, sleep deprived humor at the moment.
Or maybe I’m officially insane and this is just the tip of the mental break.
“Whatever the hell you want, darlin’, but I’m outside on the bench across the street from your place.”
“Sorry? Where are you?” She’s a little alarmed and I get that. Maybe I’m pushing my luck here. I should slow down so I don’t scare her off.
“Where do you want me to be?” I ask, way more suggestive than necessary.
Did I just forget my whole internal monologue about slowing down? Evidently I did. What the hell is wrong with me? I can’t even seem to curb it. Why didn’t I sleep last night?
“I’ll be there in ten.” I get the hang up beeps and stare at my phone for a solid two minutes, trying to figure out if I should stay or go. And then The Clash’s, Should I Stay or Should I Go? plays in my head. So very fitting. Of course I stay, even though I’m not entirely sure what I’m doing here so early or what I’m going to say.
I just want to see her. It’s really that simple for me.
Ten years of curiosity are definitely getting the better of me.
When she sat next to me in the dark Friday night and Claire introduced her, I didn’t think anything of it. Many people have the name Ivy. But the moment she spoke with that soft, sweet voice and that hint of an accent, I knew it was her.
I can’t even describe the sensations that ran through me.
Excitement, trepidation, amazement, curiosity, anticipation, they were all there, swirling around inside of me vying for top seed.
So when the lights came on and she didn’t even look twice in my direction, I was both relieved and disappointed.
I wanted her to see me. And I was terrified of it too.
But I was desperate for that flash of recognition to blaze in her ice blue eyes when she realized who I was and that we had been so perfectly intimate once upon a time.
And that night, all those years back, was perfect.
Fucking heaven.
By far and away the most unforgettable, amazing, earth-shattering, best sex of my life.
Seriously. No joke.
It was really that good.
I couldn’t get enough of her that night and she didn’t seem to mind it one bit.
But I had to leave. There really was no choice in the matter, though it was absolutely the last thing I wanted to do.
That night in the bar, she was a firecracker. So forward and confident, but when those lights came on at that party and she slipped to the back, far away from notice, I knew something had happened to her. I knew she was a different woman than the one I met all those years before.
And my heart sank.
Not because she was different than I remembered, or even that I wished she was how she used to be, but because I hated the notion that something had changed her and I wasn’t there to prevent it. And maybe I’m just being arrogant here. Maybe I’m assuming too much. But I like to think I could have been her hero, her savior—instead of being the asshole one-night stand that walked out before the sun even came up.
Exactly ten minutes later she saunters out the front door of her building, wearing a black jacket that skims the spot on her thighs where I want to dig my fingers into, jeans and Uggs. Her hair is down, slightly damp, and she has no makeup on.
God, she’s gorgeous.
Her eyes pierce through the dim light of the early morning, more blue right now than gray.
She takes her time as she descends the stairs of her building and crosses the street to me, trying to appear apathetic, but the way her eyes bounce to me every few seconds betrays her calm.
Finally, she sits down next to me on the cold, hard bench and I immediately take her hand in mine.
She lets me, but I can tell from the heavy sigh that pushes past her lips I’m trying the last of her patience.
“I don’t know what to make of you, Luke,” she mutters after a quiet beat. “I really don’t. You are a mass of contradictions and mixed messages.” She studies our interlaced fingers for a second before turning her gaze on me with deep consideration. “This doesn’t seem like friends or even casual. You showing up like this.”
“It’s not like I was out here all night. I showered and changed my clothes before I came.” She’s not amused and I don’t blame her. “I told you I’d be back early in the morning.”
She nods, but I really have no defense other than I feel like I was walking through my life by everyone else’s rules and suddenly I wanted to live by my own. I’m involved in something bigger than myself and because of that, I’ve kept myself detached.
But there is no other choice but casual with Ivy. She’s leaving and though that sucks, I get it.
I was half joking last night at the idea of no-strings sex. I know it’s not possible.
She’s an all or nothing girl. I knew that the moment she spoke to me that first time, which is why I chose nothing all those years back. I had to. My life was too uncertain and I was not about to drag her into that with me.
And now the game maybe different, but I’m still a key player in it.
Yet, I’m so oddly drawn to this breathtaking creature that my thoughts are consumed by her. I’ve never wanted to be connected to another human the way I find myself wanting to be connected to her.
“I was hurt when I woke up and you were gone.” Her quiet words jolt me out of my thoughts and her admission stuns me into silence. “But I figured that’s what happens after a one-night stand and I should just get over it and remember it for what it was. So I dated other blokes and I went on to medical school and all was great—until Jason of course. I did think about you from time to time.” I squeeze her hand and she squeezes back. I can’t stop myself from smiling at her, but I don’t offer anything more because I can tell she’s not done. “I placed as a resident in the hospital here, followed by my fellowship, and that’s what I’ve been doing ever since.”
Ivy turns to look at me and that one simple expression says she gave everything we discussed last night a tremendous amount of thought.
“I’ve worked unbelievably hard, Luke. Four years of medical school. Three years of residency, two of my regular fellowship and now a certificate fellowship that I’ve been dreaming about for these nine years—for most of my life. It’s my goal. The end game of my education that will lead me to the position I want. That’s how it works and I can’t let anything get in the
way of that.”
She pauses, sitting there holding my hand and watching me intently.
I angle my body to face hers, abandoning her hand in favor of her face, which I hold like it’s the most precious thing in the world.
“I’d never mess with that. Never in a million years. I think you know that, otherwise you wouldn’t be sitting here with me now. I realize I’m screwed up. That I send mixed messages and do everything with you backwards. But I want to change that. I do. I tried to tell you last night. I just want to spend some time with you. That’s all. Nothing more.”
Ivy nods her head and I release her face, taking her hand again, but whether she understands me or not is something else entirely.
“So, friends?”
“Yup. Friends.”
We fall silent again, sitting out here in the freezing cold, watching our breath vaporize into the morning air.
“I’m sorry I left you that morning. It was a chicken-shit thing to do and even though I think we both know why I did it, it doesn’t excuse my actions.”
She shrugs a shoulder. “It is what it is and it’s fine. Thank you for the apology and it is accepted.”
“Awesome. Can we go inside now? I’m freezing my balls off.”
“Wouldn’t want that, would we?”
She moves to stand up, but before she can get very far, I jerk her back down.
I lower my lips to hers because they’re right there and I’ve wanted to kiss her since I heard that melodic voice in the dark two days ago.
Fuck friends. I’ve dreamt of this girl for a decade.
I kiss her lightly at first, rediscovering her flavor. The cinnamon and vanilla sweetness is still as intoxicating as it was the first time I pressed my lips to hers. Our soft languid kiss quickly morphs into something fueled by years of pent-up frustration.
That and I’m desperate and terrified that she’s going to push me away any second, so I’m kissing her like it counts. Like I’m fighting the damn clock, because in a way, I am.
But she doesn’t push me away, so I take her lower lip into my mouth, sucking it just a little to get a deeper taste. My memory of her mouth has not done it justice. It’s infinitely better. Warm and soft, and so goddamn sweet.