Page 30 of Ivory's Ruin Romance

“Shit,” he cursed and rolled off the bed to pat the damp spot with the nearest cloth he could find.

The room wasn’t messy, but he didn’t have the energy to keep it spick and span like the rest of his apartment. Laundry he hadn’t bothered to fold ended up piled on a chair, and boxes of old CDs along with motorcycle magazines he’d collected over the years were scattered around. He sequestered away all the disastrous parts of his lifestyle—a habit of convenience. A habit that paid off because he wouldn’t have been able to bring Ivory inside, much less bend her over the counter, if his place hadn’t been clean.

One day, he wanted to bend her over every available surface and then go find more.

Sitting back on his bed in nothing but a pair of sweatpants, he located his phone next to an empty beer bottle and unlocked it.

10:23

Good thing he had the day off work. He stretched, calculating if he could risk calling Raptor again without incurring his wrath. Or if he cared. He also wanted to call his mom, make sure the cold wasn’t bothering her.

Swiping through emails from the school and a slew of new posts on social media, he saw an unread text Caspian sent late last night.

Dog Breath

Better watch all that smiling, puke hair. Or that girl’s gonna think she’s the reason behind it.

He scowled. Stupid drunk Caspian. He shot a quick text back and hoped it woke up his friend’s hung-over ass, no doubt trying to sleep in as long as possible.

None of your business.

Fuck it, he might as well send a text to Raptor, too, even though it hadn’t yet been a full 24 hours since their last conversation. Maybe he’d drop by tonight, for Riley’s sake.

By the time he was done, Caspian had sent a reply.

Shit, so it wasn’t the alcohol making me see heart eyes all over you last night?

Adrian groaned and ran a hand over his face, prickly stubble scratching his palm. When had Caspian gotten so perceptive? Or was it him who had been slipping, getting too easy to read? Dammit all.

Another string of messages came in.

Just joking, man.

I haven’t talked with Ivory before, but last semester, she low-key threatened me if I ever broke Nia’s heart.

Still think that’s valid, too. I know Nia would return the favor, and since she’s my future wife, you know what that means.

Don’t mess around unless you’re serious.

As if he needed the warning. He’d never intended to mess around, didn’t take pleasure from playing with women’s hearts in the first place, but the thought of anyone toying with Ivory riled him up. If he ever hurt her, before Nia or Caspian found out, he’d take care of the problem, even if that meant castrating himself.

I’m not messing around.

He’d left off the most important part, though.

Being serious.

He couldn’t promise that—not yet. Not until he got the information he needed and put this behind him once and for all.

???

Yesterday’s flurries left the side of the streets piled with dirty snow, but the sun had poked its head through the thin veils of clouds and dried the roads well enough.

Adrian pulled his bike over by a suburban house. The tang of sap filled his nose, and a sharp cry sounded from above as a bird fled its nest. He took off his helmet and shook his hair loose.

This neighborhood showed signs of life, but the chill of winter deterred most residents from venturing outside their comfy homes on a weekend.

Back at his parent’s place, he knew even the weather wouldn’t stop street business. Most travelers would walk the crumbling sidewalks—the ones the city decided twenty years ago would look better as poorly maintained cement than plain dirt—and an occasional low-riding sedan or loud-mouthed motorcycle would whiz past.

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