Page 103 of One More Made Up Love Song
My words trail off when Ivy stands and moves around the small wicker coffee table, stopping in front of me. She lifts my guitar out of my arms and sets it in the chair she just vacated, gently leaning it against the seatback. Then she kneels on the couch beside me and lifts her hands to my face.
“The song is perfect,” she says. She presses a kiss to my lips. “The key change is perfect.” Another kiss. “I love every single thing about it. Every word.”
I lean up to capture her mouth one more time, feeling an impulsive need to keep her right here, right next to me forever. It’s illogical to crave something so much, but this, the taste of her, the feel of her skin—I could do this every day and still not feel like it’s enough.
“I don’t know what to do with this feeling,” I say in between kisses, my words brushing against her mouth. “I feel like I’m on fire. Youconsumeme, Ivy. I can’t stop kicking myself for how long it took me to recognize—but I’m so glad I did. I’m so glad you didn’t give up on me.”
She pulls back, a smile in her eyes. “You’re doing a lot of talking right now,” she says, and I grin.
“I process verbally.”
She climbs onto my lap, her knees on either side of my thighs, and brushes her nose against mine. “Process this, then.”
Her kisses are slow, languid as she moves from my mouth across my jaw to the spot just below my ear. I am lostin how good she smells, in the way her hands are cradling my face, the way her lips feel against my skin.
But mostly I’m overwhelmed with a crystal-clear certainty that no emotion I’ve ever experienced compares to this. It feels good to be loved by my fans. To win awards. Receive the accolades.
But this is so much better—so muchmore.This is permanence. Acceptance. ThebelongingI didn’t know I needed until I found it.
Ivy deepens the kiss, her tongue brushing against mine, and I move my hands to her waist, my fingers slipping under the hem of her t-shirt until they’re pressed against her warm skin, just above the waist of her jeans. She feels like silk, and I’m suddenly aware of where we are—out here on her parents’ porch—where any member of her family might find us at any moment.
I shift my hands out to her hips and give them a squeeze, breaking the kiss, but then a sound escapes the back of her throat that weakens my resolve, and I’m lost in her mouth again.
Finally, she pulls away, brown eyes sparkling as she grins. “Okay,” she whispers, humor in her tone. “You can talk again.”
I smile and shake my head, closing my eyes. “No words.”
She presses one more kiss against my lips, then climbs off my lap so she’s sitting beside me.
I tilt my head, following her movements with my eyes, then hold out my hand.
She threads her fingers through mine.
“Can I ask you a question?”
She nods. “Of course. Ask me anything.”
“Do you promise you’ll tell me the truth?”
She wrinkles her nose. “You want me to promise before you ask me the question?”
I nod. “No secrets. No lies. That’s what I want with you.”
She takes a deep breath. “Okay. I promise.”
“When Vivica Rose asked you when you fell in love with me, did you tell her the truth?”
She closes her eyes, her face scrunching up. “Don’t make me answer that.”
“You promised,” I remind her. “Please, Ivy.”
She sighs and opens her eyes. “Fine. No. I didn’t tell her the truth.”
I frown. I didnotexpect her answer to be no. “You didn’t,” I say, a statement more than a question.
“No,” she says gently. “But only because I knew I was in love with you long before then.”
A sense of relief washes over me, a peace and purpose settling into my heart at the sound of her words.I knew I was in love with you.
