Page 33 of Battle of the Exes

To her credit, Ivy doesn’t panic. “More like all wet and inconvenient. Just like you.”

I clutch my chest. “You wound me,” I say, glad her humor’s intact.

Rain pelts us. Rusty stands, shakes off, soaking us more, then settles back down. We huddle closer.

“That trail,” Ivy says, “felt familiar.”

“It’s where you asked me to be exclusive.”

She furrows her brow. “Nice try. It was you asking me…”

I smile, relieved she remembers. The hike was worth this storm.

She shivers, and I slide my arm around her shoulders, offering what little warmth I can. To my surprise, she doesn’t pull away. Like a lightning bolt, the closeness jolts a memory of the way her lips once tasted like cherries, warm, sweet, and impossibly soft.

The words are out before I can stop them. “Why do I get the feeling that if I kissed you right now, you’d pretend to hate it?”

“If you kissed me right now, I’d remind you that I carry pepper spray.”

I’m willing to take that risk. I lean in, watching her closely. Her shoulders tense for a split second, then ease. Her lips part ever so slightly and her eyes flutter shut, not from shock, but something closer to surrender. It’s written in the tilt of her chin, the way she moves in just enough to meet me halfway.

Honk!

Ivy jumps back as a shuttle pulls up, wipers working overtime. The door hisses open.

“Hop in, folks.”

Ivy climbs aboard, Rusty and I right behind her.

Though I’m grateful for the blowing heat I silently curse the stupidly punctual shuttle.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Ivy

Before the shuttle arrived, I was sure I’d catch frostbite. Until Beau took me by surprise, his firm embrace and musky aftershave transporting me straight back in time. They say smell is the strongest sense tied to memory. Even two decades later, his scent still gets my heart racing.

Now, with the shuttle pulling into town, my brain fuzzy, my body atingle, I don’t know what to say to Beau sitting beside me in clueless silence.

We get off at the stop closest to The Silver Quill. My jeans cling like shrink wrap, and my jacket is useless against the cold. I remember Rue saying she had to close early to pick up Lulu from dance practice. It’s like the universe is conspiring against me.

I’m digging out my car keys when thunder cracksoverhead. I jump. Rusty yelps. My car alarm starts blaring.

Beau looks rattled too. “We should wait inside.”

I hesitate, teeth chattering. He’s the last person I want to get stuck with, especially after what almost happened at the rec center. But I’ve got a key to the Quill and zero desire to freeze to death.

“Fine,” I mutter, hurrying to unlock the door. Inside, we’re met with the comforting blend of paper, cedar, and the faint trace of Rue’s cinnamon tea.

I flick on the lights and crank up the heat.

Hail pelts the windows.

There’s no way I can drive home in this. I’m cloistered here with Beau.

Beau, who nearly kissed me. Who’s watching me now like he’s still thinking about it.

“You’ve got that look,” he says.

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