“Nah.” Kevin shakes his head. “I’ll do it. I could do with the extra cash.”
I nod, wondering if I should get going.
“I’ll eat this and fuck off.”
Kevin gives me a funny look.
“I’ve got beers in the fridge with your name on them. I won’t be long; hang out for a bit. You know you practically live here anyway; help yourself to whatever you want. Showers are free too.” He winks at me, and his gaze flickers over Ivy, who’s eating quietly. “Just toss the cartons away for me babe, and wash the dishes if you don’t mind. I won’t be long.”
Ivy nods and Kevin leaves.
The house falls silent, and Ivy stares at me.
“I might throw the dishes away; I’m so fucking tired.”
I snigger at that and raise my fork in her direction.
“Don’t let your dad hear you cussing.”
Ivy sucks on a noodle playfully, and I have to look away.
She’s too old to be playing with her food, shit.
“How’s Melody?” Ivy asks, flipping her hair over one shoulder.
My heart aches at the mention of my daughter, but I love that Ivy asks about her every time she sees me.
“She’s good. Still into her painting.”
Ivy smiles.“She’ll be famous one day. I want one of her paintings on our fridge.”
“I’ll tell her.”
“Bring her over? Then I can watch her at work.” Ivy pushes the carton of noodles away, sighing as she pops open her trouser button. “I’m so full; look at this.”
She taps her taut stomach, and I see the faint panty line below her fingers.
I swallow, peeling my eyes away.
“You’re fine.”
“Aww, Griffin. You’re so lovely.” Ivy sighs, carrying her plate through to the kitchen.
Lovely?
I’ve just been checking out your pants.
Jesus. I’m old enough to be her father.
Carrying my plate to the kitchen, I find Ivy at the sink. She’s somehow got water all over her front, and the thin T-shirt shows her nipples, despite the bra.
The white lace bra.
“I’ll do it.” I cough, moving to wash the dish.
“Don’t be silly, Griffin,” Ivy says, taking it from my hands. “I’m wet already, so I’ll do it.”
I stare at her as she realizes what she’s said, her cheeks flushing scarlet.