Page 74 of Undeniable

But it wasn’t just reminders of the past that made me want to lean in closer.

Little by little, whether I wanted to or not, I could feel myself falling for him again. The revelation was sudden and swift, and I knew I couldn’t do anything about it.

His cheek pressed against the top of my head and his arms tightened. My hands slid down from where they’d been perched atop his shoulders until I was gripping his upper arms so tightly that I wouldn’t have been surprised if I’d left behind marks from my nails.

“All of my…” he said, and I could feel the vibration of his words through his chest. Silently, I hoped he wouldn’t speak because his words were bound to break me. But still, I didn’t stop him.

“All of my biggest regrets in life have to do with you. I regret every single thing I did that led me away from you, or that drove a wedge between us. When… when everything ended, the only thing I could think was, ‘What have I done?’”

The warmth in my chest twisted and it suddenly felt a whole lot like panic and pain. Maybe it wouldn’t have been so painful if I hadn’t been waiting yearsto hear those words. Or if I didn’t wholeheartedly believe them. Each of his words was drowning in years’ worth of ache and torment. He was genuinely remorseful.

I sucked in a sharp breath. The guilt. The fuckingguiltwas eating me alive. I couldn’t help but think he wouldn’t regret it so much if he knew everything.

Everything I had never wanted to tell him. Everything I should’ve told him then.

I didn’t dare look at him. Even when he hooked his fingers under my chin and urged me to do so. His thumb rubbed back and forth against my cheek, and I hadn’t realized I’d let a tear fall until his thumb brushed over it.

Then the music ended. And so did our dance.

“Ivy,” he urged, fingers still hooked under my chin, but I was quick.

“Thanks for the dance,” I muttered and turned away.

“Ivy!” he yelled when I was across the dance floor, but no way in hell was I looking back.

TWENTY-FIVE

Ivy

Thankfully,the volunteers who didn’t help with setup were in charge of breakdown and cleanup. So after leaving James in the middle of the dance floor, I headed immediately back to the face painting tent.

I grabbed my bag and my assistant assured me she had everything else covered. That was all I needed to hear before jumping in my car and driving. I didn’t know where I was going. I didn’t have an end destination in mind. All I knew was that I needed as much distance between me and James as I could manage.

I drove around for hours and even contemplated heading back to Austin, leaving behind all of my belongings that were still at my parents’ house. But I knew my mother would be livid if I left without saying anything, and the last thing I needed was for her to be angry at me.

I was already angry enough at myself for even saying yes to the dance in the first place. No, actually, I was angry at myself for driving him to Willowwood. If I was smarter, I would’ve quit the moment I saw his face at Murphy’s Law. Had I done that, the rest of it wouldn’t have happened.

I reminded myself over and over again that it was my fault even when there was a small, incessant voice in the back of my head telling me that it wasn’t true—that whether or not I was ready for it, James and I being thrown into one another’s lives yet again was bound to happen sooner or later. I just wished it’d been later.

It took me a while of driving around aimlessly to decide that leaving wasn’t an option. And when I finally came to that conclusion, I tried to think of any other possible way in which I didn’t have to sleep next to James that night. The hotels and bed-and-breakfast were still booked and everyone I knew already had a full house. Someone’s floor didn’t sound too bad, and I even considered crashing on Shelby’s parents’ couch.

When I began to consider sleeping in my car, I knew I was being ridiculous. I was almost thirty-two years old. I couldn’t continue to run from my problems.

Even if the problems—or better yetproblem—seemed insurmountable and had the bluest eyes and a wicked smile that made even my hard exterior want to disintegrate.

I pulled into my parents’ driveway a little past one in the morning and prayed that James had found somewhere else to sleep or was, at the very least, already asleep. I knew he couldn’t be happy that I’d left him in the middle of the dance floor. But dealing with him was a problem that could be left for the morning.

As quietly as I could, I unlocked the front door and tiptoed inside. It was another reminder of all the times I snuck in and out of our house with James that summer.

I couldn’t fucking escape him.

The house was silent but for the clock ticking on the mantel. Before heading into my room, I stopped in the bathroom. I washed the day off and stayed under the scalding-hot spray until it eventually ran cold. It did little to ease my apprehension or calm my racing thoughts. In the fury of getting ready that morning, I’d accidentally left my entire overnight bag in the bathroom, so I slipped on my soft, lightweight pj’s before opening the door.

At my bedroom door, I paused. I pressed my ear against the wood and listened for several seconds. I even stopped breathing to try to hear any sort of movement from the other side.

But there was nothing, and I braced myself as I pushed it open. The hinges had always squeaked slightly—something my father had tried and failed to fix my entire life—but that night, it sounded louder than ever.

I cringed and closed it behind me with another loud squeak, followed by a soft click. I crossed to the bed and only glanced down to the other side long enough to confirm he was there. He lay on his back, face turned away from me, and arms slung everywhere. His breathing was even, and his lips were slightly parted. I tilted my head back and thanked the Lord that he was actually asleep.

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