Page 43 of Fire

Ivy

I brace at the top of the stairs, forearm on the wall, head on my arm, one finger tracing my lips. I can’t believe I did that. I can’t believe I slept with Micah.

And I can’t believe it was that good. I can’t believe I’m not still in his bed, doing it again.

Wait, what? No. I can’t be thinking like that. Sleeping with Micah was a one-time thing. It has to be.

The timing couldn’t be worse. Jumping out of a terrible relationship right into another—no matter how good it could be—is a bad idea. A monstrously bad idea.

It wouldn’t be fair to Micah. To me. To Nell. I need to focus on who I am and what I want. I mean, do I even know what I want, yet? I thought I did, but after that? I’m not so sure anymore.

I need to remember how to be me before I can be with someone else. Especially if that someone else is Micah. Everything between us is difficult enough without adding sex into the mix. Especially toe-curling, mind-altering, am-I-really-still-in-my-body-or-have-I-transcended-reality sex like what just happened downstairs.

Julian could barely stand to look at me when we were intimate. He says the stretch marks from the pregnancy are gross. That he can’t get in the mood when he sees them. There aren’t very many, but he hated the pale scars on my hips, belly, and breasts so much that I did everything I could to erase them. Lotions, creams, diets. I tried losing weight, hoping they’d fade, but he could never stand to look at me in the light.

I push off the wall and head into the office, stare at that stupid uncomfortable cot then move to the window instead of setting it up. Micah’s in the pool, his arms slicing through the water, pulling his body forward. His muscles flex and twist with the movement. The boy I left was big for his age, but still a boy. I never dreamed he’d grow into the man in front of me. A man I really don’t know anymore. So obviously the best choice was to jump into bed and have the best sex of my life the first night of sharing a house together.

Talk about chaotic decisions.

Outside, Micah reaches the edge of the pool and tucks into a ball, pushing off the wall to start another lap while water surges around him. I remember that energy. The way frustration used to build in him until he needed a physical outlet. I know I’m the reason he’s out there now. Part of me wants to go to him, to apologize, to do whatever it takes to make sure he’s happy, but that’s the kind of thinking that let my relationship with Julian devolve.

I won’t be like that anymore.

Not with anyone, and especially not with Micah.

I’d planned to call Julian today and tell him I’m not coming back to Seattle. It’s time he knows my ring is off and I intend on keeping it that way—especially after what I just did. But it’s just after one in the morning here, which means it’s ten pm for him. He’s in bed, glasses on, checking email one last time before he turns off the light. If I call him now and interrupt his evening ritual, it’ll make an already difficult conversation ten times harder. Everything’s easier if I do it on his time.

Tomorrow’s Sunday, which means he sleeps until eight, then goes for a run. I’ll call him at nine, after his run but before his shower. The golden hour. The sliver of time when he doesn’t have a plan or an agenda, when he’s too worn out to get upset over little things.

I stare at the cot, but I’m nowhere close to tired and the urge to talk to someone is overwhelming. I consider my mom, but that’s a can of worms I’d rather not open. Instead, I text Grandma. With her insomnia the way it is, she’s probably as desperate for a distraction as I am. Unless she wasn’t joking about the men, and she has a guest…

Laughing, I push that thought away as I draft a text. I’m still not prepared to know that much about her sex life.

We’re all tucked in here. Had a nice day. Micah’s been…well…very Micah about the whole thing

I don’t have to wait long for her reply.

I’ve been thinking of you all day! Do you have time for a quick chat?

Smiling, I initiate a call, then fill her in on everything that happened, right up to the conversation in the kitchen that led to a mind-blowing romp in Micah’s bed—though I stop before letting that piece of information fly.

That one’s just for me. Something to hold on to when I want to remember how it feels when a man cares for a woman.

“I’m sensing hesitation here, Ivy. Did something go wrong?”

“I’m not sure ‘wrong’ is the word I’d use.” I pull back the curtain and watch Micah glide through the water. “Weird for sure. Maybe good?”

Definitely good. But also definitely complicated.

“You walked in on him naked, didn’t you?”

“Grandma!” I laugh and let the curtain fall. “No! What is it with you and your obsession with sex stuff?”

“For one, maybe you’re too uptight about sex stuff and for two, you’re gonna have to let me live vicariously through you. At least a little. I’m dying to know how much of that calendar was Photoshop and how much is him.”

I pull back the curtain once again. The way the lights illuminate the pool makes it clear Photoshop was not involved when it comes to Micah’s body. “You’re going to have to be patient on that topic. We’ve only just started to get to know each other again.”

His lips on mine.

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