Page 59 of Wasted On You

“Here, let me.” Mike Paul gently grabbed hold of the keys from her fingers and let them into the house.

It was warm. Toasty warm.Too warm. God, she was hot.

Ivy slid off her coat and tossed it onto the floor beside the sofa. She stepped out of her booties and padded across the room to the kitchen, where she immediately reached for the bottle of Fireball on the counter. She would prefer a good, stiff tequila, but it was all she had. She tore off the lid and took a shot straight from the bottle, grimacing as the cinnamon-flavored whiskey burned down her throat, bringing tears to her eyes. She took one more shot for good measure, then turned and offered the bottle to Mike Paul.

“I’m good,” he murmured and leaned against the kitchen island.

Good? He was more than good. God, the man took her breath away.

Mike Paul Darlington was beautiful. Every. Single. Inch.

Hungrily, her eyes ate him up—from the top of his messy hair to the bottom of his feet. His dark, good looks were amplified by the shadows that fell from the overhead light, giving that strong jaw of his a more pronounced look. The two days’ worth of stubble on his chin only added an air of danger. Didn’t help that his eyes glittered in the low lights, alive with that extra something that made it hard to look away.

And then there was his mouth. It was fuller than most men she knew, almost feminine, but when he smiled, the world fell away. And, well, she knew what that mouth was capable of.

Oh, my Jesus, she thought.I’ve lost my mind.

“Why did you bring me here?” he asked quietly. “What are we doing?”

Why was he so damn calm? Unfair when she was ramped up like a locomotive coming in hot.

Her mouth was dry, and she licked her lips, a nervous gesture, but dammit she needed to think. Ivy took another swig and then put the cap back onto the bottle of Fireball. She set it on the counter and blew out a hot breath. She kept her back to Mike Paul but moved a bit so that she was in front of the sink and could look out the window into the backyard. There wasn’t much to see but swirling snow, yet it calmed the part of her that was moving too fast.

“That night after bowling,” she started slowly. Kept her head down. And ignored the pounding drums in that space that surrounded her heart. “You said something to me.”

“I said a lot of things that night. You’ll have to be more specific.”

She felt him. He was closer.

“You said that I belonged with you and no one else.”

“It’s true.”

Closer still. She felt the heat of his body, and goosebumps broke out along her arms. She wrapped them around herself and closed her eyes, her mind chaotic.

“When I was fourteen, I found that coyote. The one that had been hit and injured out by Dicken’s ranch.” Would he remember?

“It was a female. Not more than five weeks old.”

She smiled to herself. Of course, he would remember.

“I took her to you. Not to my mom or dad. Not to Cal or Millie Sue. Only you. Because even then, you were my person. The one I shared everything with. The one I trusted to have my back. To look out for me. To help when I needed it.”

“That hasn’t changed.” His words were spoken so quietly she barely heard them. “You might not believe it, but it’s true.”

“You told me you’d help me save her. We rode our bikes to Doc Merchant’s vet clinic, that little coyote cuddled against your chest, and when we got there, he gave us crap. Said she was a wild animal. That we should have left her on the side of the road and let nature take its course. I was too emotional and froze, but you got in his face. Told him that nature wasn’t driving the car that hit her. That it was a human, and if he didn’t save the coyote, he was a fraud and had no business being a vet.”

She could still picture Mike Paul standing up to Merchant, tall and thin with years to go before he grew into his bones. His ball cap turned back, dirt on his face and a look in his eye that told the vet they weren’t leaving until he looked the animal over. In the end, they couldn’t save the coyote. Its injuries were too much. But at least the animal died peacefully, with Ivy and Mike Paul at her side.

Ivy exhaled and turned around. That was the moment she knew he would be the most important person in her life. She’d felt it in her bones. As she got older, it had been a bitter pill knowing that he’d only ever seen her as a friend. A pal. The girl with glasses and attitude. The girl with a right arm that could throw a baseball with more accuracy than anyone in town. The girl who told the raunchiest jokes ever because she’d felt like she needed to in order to fit in.

“Ivy?”

“Why did you sleep with Val?”

“You want to talk about Val?” He was surprised and didn’t hide it. “Why?”

“I want to know why you slept with her.”

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