“From the early two thousands?” she asks.

“No. The seventies.”

“Oh. Yeah, no, I wouldn’t know it.”

“If you heard it, you would know it,” Harrison assures her. “Let me play it for you.”

Liam turns the car off. “I’m going to check into the hotel.”

“Motel.”

Liam shoots an irritated look at Harrison. “There is absolutely nothing wrong with this hotel. It’s a well-known chain with a highly regarded free continental breakfast. We don’t allhave piles of disposable income to blow on fancy hotels for the next week.”

“I’ll stay here with you, Liam,” Ivy says, sitting up a little straighter and reaching down to grab her purse off of the floorboard.

“No,” Harrison says. “Absolutely not. If the starving writer wants to stay here for a free bagel and bedbugs, he can, but I’m getting you a room at a decent hotel. My treat. It’s the least I can do after my former best friend left you with a mess.”

Ivy doesn’t look like she cares one way or the other. “Fine. Thank you. I just need a shower and a bed.”

I shouldn’t envision Ivy in the shower, but I do. All five foot eight inches of her, rivulets of water trailing down her golden skin, over tight breasts right down to her…

I clear my throat and force myself to focus.

God, what the hell is wrong with me?

She’s exhausted and heartbroken, and I’m picturing her naked.

I can’t help it. Being this close to her for hours and hours is fucking with my head. And my dick. I’m aware of every move she makes, from shifting to get more comfortable, to sighing, to flips of her blonde hair back off of her shoulder under that headscarf.

At one point, Liam asked her to take it off because it was blocking his view in the rearview mirror.

She’d said, “Absolutely not. I’m channeling Elizabeth Taylor, who suffered many heartbreaks in her life.”

“Wasn’t she married a dozen times?” Harrison asked. “That’s not really your problem.”

Her answer had been a lifted chin and a withering glare that had actually brought Harrison to a shamed silence, which was no easy feat. He had muttered a hasty, “Sorry,” then went back to tormenting Liam with his musical selections.

Sometimes Harrison speaks before he thinks.

Liam gets out of the car and retrieves his bag from the trunk. Then he opens Ivy’s door and ducks his head in to talk to her. “I’ll see you in the morning. Text me if you need anything. I’ll be five minutes away and I can walk over.”

She nods. “I will. I love you.”

His eyes soften, which sets off alarm bells for me.

“I love you too,” he murmurs and kisses her forehead. When he pulls back, his expression is fierce and intense.

Our eyes lock behind Ivy’s head, and he stares me down defiantly.

Holy shit.

He’s in love with Ivy.

Now I know why Liam has been suspicious of me and Harrison. He has feelings for her himself.

I thought Liam exclusively dated men, but I have no idea why I think that. It’s not like we’re friends and we’ve only met socially a few times. Ivy has never said much to me about him, but I also haven’t spent much time with Ivy off-set or beyond work functions to promote the restaurants and the show.

I’m lost in all my swirling thoughts as Harrison gets out and jogs around to the driver’s side and hops in. He presses the button to restart the car. “Now we can all relax and enjoy ourselves. The grinch is gone.”