Page 57 of Yours Truly

I touch the key on my neck and he winks. “See you bright and early tomorrow.” I watch him walk through the studio toward the door where he stops and turns, facing me. “How’d you feel in my car?”

I smile. “Pompous.”

He rolls his eyes. “Liar.”

SIXTEEN

But I’m keeping the key

Trace

“I’ll take it to go, thanks, Lucy.” I slip onto a barstool at the diner’s counter in the back and rest my head in my hands.

I’ve been in a wild headspace since yesterday.

I spent a full day in this cage, and when I thought I’d be left to navigate a weird and tough conversation with Ivy, it turned into… more.

Staring at the line cook scrambling eggs, my mind veers to Ivy’s perfect body, the way resting my hands on her naked hips feels like being home.

More than her being sexy as hell and fucking a dildo strapped to my body, she handles me in a way no one ever has. She didn't force me to wobble through a weak explanation, she didn’t lash out or yell. There were no tears of hurt or betrayal.

She called me on my shit move, and made me pay. Simple.

But in the way she made me pay, we both got to come and come clean.

She likes me, too. What she did last night wasn’t just to teach me. It’s to claim me. Ivy Ellington wants to claim me and although I told myself I’d never let another woman stake claim to me again, I’m realizing how foolish it would be to make good on that jaded promise.

As much as it terrifies me to admit it, I want Ivy in that serious, permanent way. The desire to be near her, talk to her, get her opinion, hold her, taste her— the need has surfaced and I can’t drink it down any longer.

It’s growing, too. It started as a little burn deep in my bones in some unreachable place. I barely felt it, the hot little flicker of awareness when she came into the room.

But as time went on, that ember grew. Every salty comeback, every shitty smirk, every tender touch and subtle glance fanned that ember, growing it into what it is now. An all-consuming blaze, eating up all of my other hopes and dreams, swiping at my fears and insecurities. She’s quickly becoming the only thing I think about. The only thing that matters, and if I’m being honest, I care about the art and tattooing much more with her around.

She reignites my passion, reminds me of why I’m here in Bluebell in the first place. Because I’m sick of that life I keep going back to and instead of sinking into toxic familiarity, it’s time for me to grow a bigger pair and move past all that shit.

It’s time for me to get the girl, the one that actually wants me.

I dig my phone from my pocket, and peer around me, making sure no one is witnessing the dumb-ass grin sweeping my face at the thought of texting that little Firecracker.

Mornin’ Firecracker.

Lucy walks up with a mug in one hand and a carafe of coffee in the other. I point at it. “Actually, I’ll take two.” I set the phone down for a moment. “Hey, Lucy, I met your mom at the bowling alley.”

She sets down my mug, reaching for another under the counter. “Did you get the cream soda float?”

I shake my head. “Root beer. But next time I’ll try it.”

She winks. “Here or to go?”

“To go,” I smile.

She drums her fingers against the counter. “One of these wouldn’t be for Miss Ivy, now would it?”

I nod. “Yeah, actually.” I nod toward the back, where the cooks are working. “Part of that is for her, too.”

“Well,” Lucy says, leaning over the counter. “Ivy likes her coffee with protein powder. But you gotta blend it with a little milk first, then add the coffee.”

I stare at the paper cups she pulls out from beneath the counter and watch her fill one. “I guess just… leave room?” I suggest, knowing I can’t get my hands on protein powder so I can’t bring her the coffee she likes best.

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