Page 11 of Ivory's Ruin Romance

“Don’t blame yourself,” he said, matching her pace. An attempted kiss, and not an unwanted one by any means, was one thing, but he didn’t like how she made it seem like everything had been her fault. Last time he checked, she hadn’t beaten anyone up or gotten them kicked out of the party. He also doubted she realized even half of the thoughts that had run through his brain, which didn’t make him better than the next guy, but he wasn’t about to make her the wiser. “You haven't imposed.”

“Yeah, kinda,” she replied. “You punched Jace for me, and now you have to take me home.”

“I punched Jace to teach him a lesson,” he replied. “Guess it’s muscle memory from looking after my mom and sister. Let’s call it even.” His fingers flexed, and he furrowed his brows. Why was he saying all this?

“If you say so,” she hummed. After a while, she asked, “Are you a student?”

Small talk wasn’t his thing, but it was better than walking in silence and dealing with his pestering thoughts. “A sophomore, psychology major. You?”

“Freshman, education major with a minor in astronomy.” Her face lit up, and he could tell she’d be a great teacher someday. With her perception, no student would be left out. She had a bright future—one more reason he couldn’t be in it.

He tilted his head back, searching the sky. “Too cloudy for stars tonight.”

She followed his gaze, leaning into him when her feet couldn’t depend on her line of sight. He held his breath, her proximity chasing away the chill of night, but this time, he didn't push her away.

“Do you want to know why I picked astronomy?”

“Why?” he asked, gathering up every detail, every crumb of information she offered like some sort of depraved beggar.

Maybe Jace hit him harder than he realized.

“Because sometimes it feels like there’s no one else but the heavens,” she answered. Her eyes gleamed, almost as if they could reflect the stars through the layer of clouds. Smoky, purple eyeshadow made the green of her irises pop, like symbols of life and growth, despite it being the season of harvest and death.

“I’m not talking about God,” she continued. “Just whatever’s up there, floating in space as we spin around and around. I’ll end up teaching kids the basics of math and science, but I know they’re going to have struggles that those things won’t fix. I want to teach them something they can always find, something they can see when the world goes dark.”

He didn’t have a reply to that. Not a good one. Not one that came anywhere close to the beauty of her answer.

“Why’d you pick psychology?” she asked, recreating some semblance of distance between them as she looked back down at the sidewalk.

He cleared his throat. “I’ve had to be extra aware of the people around me for a while, and I don’t think I could sit through four years of anything else. School wasn’t—isn’t—really my thing, but my sister hates it worse than I do, and my mom wanted one of us to get a degree. Be the first in the family and all.”

His father would have wanted him to graduate, too. They’d planned to do it at the same time, after saving enough money at the mechanic shop. But fate had other plans.

Ivory smiled, though her eyes didn’t sparkle like before. “Gotta give credit to parents and their high expectations.”

He frowned. Something about that sounded off. “Well, I’m sure I’ve let my mom down more than I’ve lived up to her hopes and dreams,” he said. “But she’s always been supportive.”

Ivory fell silent, then whispered, “I think I’ve let people down more times than I can count.”

“Can’t imagine how you’d be a disappointment,” he murmured. She was obviously a good enough student and, from what he’d observed, didn’t fool around with drugs. He’d be the last person to judge, but this girl looked like the epitome of a parent’s dream. Everything about her appeared conservative, from the lack of piercings or tattoos to how she spoke.

She scoffed. “We all have our weaknesses.”

He hummed in agreement. It wasn’t his place to know hers. Wasn’t his place to even ask, but he wanted to. He wanted to know why she didn’t feel strong, especially after getting a small glimpse of her potential.

His apartment complex loomed in front of them, a slab of brick and cement with stacked rows of darkened windows—including Caspian’s. He wondered if his friend was back at the party or if he'd decided to call it a night. Hopefully, he hadn’t gotten any messages because he’d been too preoccupied with Ivory to check his phone. It wasn’t like Caspian needed a wingman anyway.

Squashing the urge to draw out their conversation, he took in a deep breath of cold air and led them through the parking lot, where a mountain of weatherproof canvas covered his bike.

The time he got to spend with his sweet witch had come to an end, and it was time to get her out of his head.

“Well, we managed to get you here in one piece,” he said, unhooking her hand from his arm so he could kneel and unlock the chain connecting the front wheel to the light post.

“All thanks to you, good sir.” She giggled, and again, he had to ignore the irregularities in his heartbeat.

“This is a very small vehicle,” she noted. “Can’t be a truck. Is it like one of those tiny electric cars? Will I even fit inside?”

A smirk stretched across his face. At least he’d get to leave her with a better impression than being a heartless jerk or a bully. This beauty here was a joy to ride on—a fucking privilege. The only woman who had ever been on it before was his sister, and that’s because she’d threatened to castrate him if she didn’t get to take it for a spin.

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