Page 71 of Writing On The Wall

“Ross would never do anything to hurt me,” I say defensively. For the first time I’m starting to feel the effects—the bone weary fatigue of constantly fighting for someone who doesn’t seem to want my help.

“Not physically, and not intentionally. But the people he’sinvolved with won’t feel the same, sugar,” Gail adds with her gentle wisdom.

“Yeah. Okay. Does anyone else think Nicolas looks depressed?” I ask, shamelessly deflecting.

Opal waves a hand dismissively. “He’s just mopy because his girlfriend’s at the vet.”

“That makes so much sense.” I nod, not understanding anything. It’s getting late, and I’m dead on my feet.

“I’m gonna go home and…sleep this off.” I stand, gesturing around the room. “Chin up, Nicolas.” I croon into his grumpy face, then hug the flock of eccentric geriatrics goodbye.

“Stay safe!” Gran calls out before I walk toward my car, grateful I’m no longer sleeping in it. Ross’s asshat decisions have already landed me in enough messes. I just hope it doesn’t happen again.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

ETHAN

Did I purposely wear my favorite pair of jeans and that blue button down shirt that makes my eyes pop for a cake tasting with my brother and his bride? You bet I did. I’m not usually one to fuss over my outfit, but I know when I look good. And today I’m using every bit of ammunition I’ve got to show Ivy what she’s missing.

Slightly juvenile? Maybe. But it’s just a small step in my game plan to win the fair lady over. And let’s be real, these jeans? They’ve earned me the seal of approval from Opal and Gail. I get catcalls and whistles every time I wear them.

I haven’t seen Ivy in four days. She’s been busy with school things in the evenings, making me wonder how she’s coping. Is she taking care of herself? Is Ross causing any more trouble over the music box? I know she’s a grown woman, but it’s not easy to turn off the need to protect someone when you care about them this way. And we’ve been no better than ships crossing in the night, passing with nothing more than a few notes written on the wall.

Those notes feel like tiny drops of sustenance to a starving man.

She says her life is too complicated right now, but I’m about to show her how much better it is with me in it. I tried playing it cool and keeping it in the friend zone for a whole day, but the electricity between us was off the charts, and I officially can’t let this go. I’ve never experienced this before—this yearning to know everything about someone and the unquenchable desire to be a part of her future. I’ve never felt this drawn to anyone before Ivy. And I think I owe it to her and to myself to see this through.

I walk through the doors of the hotel and into the restaurant where Ivy, Ember, and Colton are already seated at a large, white table next to the kitchen.

“You’re late.” Colton frowns as I approach them.

“Brodo, don’t be the dude who has to blur out the bits onNaked and Afraid. It’s only five past two. Hey, Flames,” I say, greeting Ember before venturing a look at the woman who always manages to rile up the butterflies in my stomach. I swallow, suddenly feeling awkward. I’m desperate to touch her in some way, but that fluttering morphs into an ache, because I have no right to reach out to her.

She’s not mine.

“Ivy,” I manage to croak out, taking a seat opposite those eyes that drive me wild when they’re lit up. The same eyes that are currently cataloging every inch of me.

My mouth turns up in a smirk. I knew these jeans were magical.

“I hope you came hungry,” Ember says, raising her eyebrows. “You’re about to consume more cake than you’ve ever eaten in your life.”

“Doubt it,” Colton and I say in unison. The ladies roll their eyes in response as a server steps near.

“Hi! I’m Jesycca, with ay.” She giggles, curling her hair behind her ear. “Is this your whole party?”

“It is. We’re ready to be stuffed. I mean, not in a taxidermy way. That would be weird. Just the regular way, when your tummy wants to be happy and full. I’m rambling. Um…feed us cake, please,” Ember waffles while Colton morphs into the heart-eyed emoji beside her.

“Perfect! Get ready to embark on a flavor adventure. Pace yourself, though—we’ve got five mouthwatering creations lined up for you. Our opener is a real head-turner. Picture this,” she gestures enthusiastically with her hands, “a bourbon-vanilla sponge cake, oozing with mango cream filling and topped with a mango drizzle that’s got a bit of a kick. Trust me, it’s a real flavor bomb. It’s also my absolute favorite, ‘cause it’s got that spicy twist that keeps you coming back for more,” she says, tossing a playful wink my way.

I can’t help but chuckle under my breath when I catch Ivy aiming her icy glare across the room toward Jesycca’s oblivious backside.

Well, well, well. Looks like things just got a tad more interesting around here. Ivy avoids looking at me while her dainty hand pushes the rim of her glasses.

Jesycca glides back to our table, carefully balancing a tray laden with four plates. She places a generous slice of goodness before each of us. I flash her my warmest smile, and the corners of her cheeks flush pink as she invites us to savor the first bite.

“The rest of the flavors are pretty standard,” Ember assures us. “But I wanted to try something a little out of the box.” She flashes a giant grin at Colton, who’s smiling proudly.

“It’s definitely unusual.” I eye the cake, cutting a piece with the side of my fork.

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