Page 42 of Undeniable

“Really, Ivy?” She was already halfway down the hallway and closing in on the exterior door. I jogged after her and caught up just as she pushed it open.

It was hot and humid—an awful yet normal combination in the state of Texas. The sun was nearly set and cast a red-orange light over the nearly empty parking lot.

Suddenly, her quick steps stopped and she turned on me. I almost ran her over but caught myself just in time.

“Why?” she asked in a bitter, annoyed tone. But my thoughts weren’t clear enough to answer. I was struck by the way the warm light made her skin glow and her hair shine. We were so close. And yet again, I found myself remembering the way she felt under my hand only a few weeks before. My palm itched with the memory and the curiosity of what she would do if I did it again. If I reached out my hand and cupped her cheek or fisted her twin braids in my hand.

I studied her face for a second. Her freckles were prominent across her nose and cheeks and hidden behind them was a slight flush to her cheeks.

“I think it’s about time that I do,” I murmured, taking an unconscious step forward, which she mimed with a step backward.

I didn’t want to tell her the real reason for my change of heart. The phone call with my mom and hearing the sadness in her voice was enough for me. I didn’t need Ivy’s judgment or disbelief on top of that. I knew she likely wouldn’t believe that I was being genuine. She’d turn the entire situation around and make me feel like shit about it. And I didn’t want that.

I didn’t want to feel like the selfish prick who didn’t think his actions had consequences.

She’d probably make a comment about the fact that it took hearing my mom upset to spring me into action. Or question if there was another reason I was so ready to make amends.

“Fine,” she conceded, and I was so preoccupied with how close we still were that I’d forgotten I was waiting on her response.

One corner of my mouth ticked up, and she scowled harder.

“But I have full control of the music and you’re not allowed to speak for the entire drive. Meet me at my place tomorrow morning. I’ll text you my address,” she barked the orders as she tossed her bags in the back seat.

Like the gentleman I was, I hurried and opened the driver’s side door for her. Stepping back, I smiled slightly wider.

“To do that, you have to unblock me first.”

Her eyes darted between my hand, still propped on top of the door, and my face like she couldn’t believe I’d done it or why.

“I’ll unblock you,” she said under her breath, slid into the car, and pulled the door closed. She reversed out of her spot and I waited for her to drive away, waving like our entire interaction hadn’t put me on edge.

And the thought of our impending drive didn’t help. Neither of us wanted to go back to the beginning, and Willowwood was just that.

FIFTEEN

Ivy

I couldn’t escapeShelby’s judgmental stare. As I hurried around the apartment, checking off the last few items from my packing list and throwing them into my large duffel bag, she sat perched on a barstool, thankfully keeping her thoughts and advice to herself.

I’d come home from the game the previous night, still rattled by James just showing up out of the blue and asking for a ride to Willowwood. Of course, the moment I walked through the door, Shelby knew something was off. Being friends for so long and knowing each other so well was both a blessing and a curse, especially when I wanted to keep things to myself.

That wasn’t an option around her, so I quickly spilled most of the details.Mostof them.

But she didn’t have a chance to respond the way I knew she really wanted to. Her boyfriend, Will, arrived for their date and just in time to save me from her opinions.

I thought I’d get out of the apartment early enough the next morning that I would be yet again spared, but she’d made sure to be sitting in the living room when I finally emerged from my sanctuary.

But I didn’t need to hear her say anything to know what she would tell me. I’d heard the same sentiments countless times. That nothing would ever be resolved if I continued brushing it under the rug. That I was doing myself an injustice by keeping everything bottled up. That I should talk to him.

Those same words were loaded in her eyes as I stepped back into the living room and tossed my phone charger in my purse. My annoyance flared, and I finally met her stare with one of my own.

“You are driving me crazy.”

She snorted and recrossed her arms. “Good.”

“That’s your plan? To annoy the crap out of me before I have to go sit in a car with him for two hours?”

Shelby stood from the barstool, finishing off her coffee and rounding the counter to make another cup.

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