Page 26 of Unravel Me

“Don’t, Sawyer. Trust me. She said she’s struggling being back here. She looked heartbroken. I know this isn’t easy to hear, but seeing you is going to make that ten times harder right now. Give her a few days to reacclimate and work through her shit.”

“I’ve given her ten fucking years, Reid!” I scream. “Ten! And you’re telling me that right now she’s down the road from meand she’shurting? I’m not going to sit here and fucking wait. No.”

“Make sure you know what you’re doing, man,” he says solemnly and releases my arm.

“I do.”

I grab my helmet and hop on my bike. Before I even realize, I’m pushing 100 on the back roads. The ride to her parents’ house goes by in a blur. It takes me less than ten minutes of pure turmoil, and before I know it, I’m racing up the steps of Ivy’s childhood home. Fear rips through me over the possibility of her not being inside as I whip open the door. It bounces off the wall with a bang as I bust inside, not bothering to kick it shut behind me. I register her scream and it’s music to my ears.

She’s here. My Ivy.

I take a few long strides into the house before I find her standing in the middle of the living room, frozen, staring out at the open space with a fire poker lifted in her arms like a baseball bat.

As soon as she sees me she staggers back a step, the poker falling from her hands and clattering to the hardwood floor. I watch her face transform from blotchy pink to pale white and her perfect, plump lips part slightly, forming an “o”. Her beautiful green eyes are red and puffy, evidence that she’s been crying. She’s just as goddamn beautiful as I remembered, even more so. The hole in my chest begins to ache at the sight of her and I rub the spot with my knuckles.

I take a confident step toward her, even though I feel anything but. My mind reeling with shock and uncertainty. I can’t believe she’s really here.

“Hi, butterfly.”

Her breath comes out in a rough exhale as her eyes close and slowly open to peer at me.

“Hi.”

And then I’m moving. I grab her around the waist and haul her to me, one hand grabbing around her head, threading my fingers through her long, silky hair as I hold her to my chest. Both of our breaths are heaving, and I feel her body tremble against mine as tears soak my shirt. I press my face to the top of her head, breathing her scent deeply into my lungs. She smells of the salt air, a reminder that she’s been to her safe place today, and of cherries and almonds. Fucking sweet perfection.

“Fuck. Ivy. My god. I can’t believe it.”

She wraps her shaky arms tightly around my waist, holding me with the same desperation that I feel as her body lets go and relaxes into me, allowing my body to mold around hers. I can’t believe she’s in my arms right now. My Ivy.

“You’re really here, Sawyer?” she sobs.

“Yeah, baby. It’s me. I’ve got you.”

I reach down and pick her up by the back of her thighs, her long, lithe legs wrapping around my waist. She hunches over me, her face pressed into my neck, and her arms wrapped around me like a little koala. I hold her up by her ass and take in my surroundings before moving toward the couch.

Ivy has a sleeping bag laid out on top of it with a pillow, a Kindle, and a glass of red wine sitting on the end table.

“Baby, why are you sleeping on the couch?” I sit down, keeping her straddled across my lap, not wanting any space between us. She sits up straight and looks at me, her eyes dancing all over my face, shock etched into her features that surely matches my own.

I move my hands to her beautiful face, my thumbs brushing against her soft, tear-stricken skin before moving down to settle on her waist. She’s wearing a crop top, and my hands heat on contact with her bare skin. Just like they always did. My eyes roam, taking as much of her in as I can, noting every change and difference the last ten years have made.

“My god, Ivy, you’re so fucking beautiful, look at you.” She’s always been the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen, but now?

Fuck.

Now she’s all woman. She wears her raven-black hair long, reaching her waist. She’s filled out in the best places, and I can’t help but want to touch her all over, explore her body like it’s the first time all over again. Because that’s exactly what it would feel like. I want to see every change in her body, every mark, scar, every inch and beautiful piece of her. But now we’re adults and not fumbling teenagers. Now I know to take my time and learn exactly how to make her feel good. I want to commit this new Ivy to memory to keep her with me for the rest of my life. Her shock morphs to panic as her eyes continue to glass over with tears, her chest rapidly rising and falling as she kneads her hands together between us.

“Is this real? I’m not dreaming? You’re being so kind, Sawyer. I thought you’d hate me. You must hate me.”

I take her hands in mine and lay them flat over my chest, letting us both feel the rapid beating of the heart she just returned to me.

“It’s real. I’m real.” Ignoring the last part of what she said, I change the subject, not ready to confront her about what she did to me. The pain she caused. I choose to focus on now and everything else can wait. Like why she’s suddenly back in Aspen Ridge.

“Now tell me why you’re sleeping on the couch and not in one of the beds.”

“I just . . . can’t be here.”

Everything Reid told me flashes back and mixes with everything that I already know about Ivy and her parents. This is the same woman who left her home at eighteen without telling anyone but her mother, and didn’t even return after the death of her parents. Of course she doesn’t want to be in this house now. She didn’t even want to be here when she was growing up.

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