Page 58 of When Ivy Met Mr. Holiday
She bit her lip. “Um . . . knowing that I’m on my period and I needed ice cream and OREOs.” She kissed my cheek and snuggled into me.
My heart pounded like that of a teenage boy facing his crush. Ivy was the biggest crush of my life.
“Noted,” I said, floored. I carefully wrapped my arm around her, hoping not to scare her away. Hoping she would let us have this moment.
I’ll tell her about Sienna later. I can’t ruin this moment.
The 20thCentury Fox music was replaced by the Home Alone theme, which even I recognized. Normally, it made me tense—a reminder of everything I’d missed out on as a child. But tonight, I didn’t want to miss out on a thing—especially not on Ivy.
Ivy nestled into me, her head falling on my shoulder just below my jaw. The smell of her coconut shampoo was familiar and dangerous. It made me ache to taste the ice cream and cookies on her lips. But I resisted as I watched the chaos on the screen.
Children ran around everywhere. It looked a lot like Ivy’s parents’ house, though Ivy’s parents definitely had better taste than the McCallisters. What was up with all that wallpaper?
The 90s were an unhinged time.
Just minutes into the movie, Ivy popped up and asked out of the blue, “Jack, do you think I’m doing a good job pretending to be your girlfriend?”
Where did this come from? “What do you mean?”
“I mean, do you think people believe it? Do I seem natural about it? Especially, like, when we kiss? Am I too stiff?” she whispered, embarrassed.
Oh, hell, she had no idea that she’d just erased the last bit of my resolve. She’d handed me an opportunity that I wasn’t sure I could pass up. After all, I wanted her to feel as comfortable as possible as my girlfriend, hoping she’d like to make it a full-time gig.
While I formulated my plan, she looked up at me, wide eyed, nervously waiting for me to answer.
“I appreciate what you’ve done for me, and I know how stressful this has been for you.”
“But?” she asked, already bracing.
“But,” I said playfully, “you’re a little stiff.” Although she softened up every time we kissed and set my world on fire.
“I knew it.” She collapsed against me with theatrical flair.
Play it cool, Jack. Let her steer this and come to the conclusion of how to remedy this situation.
I wrapped my arm around her, my fingers dancing down her arm. “Don’t worry about it. You’re doing a good job. It’s not like you’re a professional actress.”
“Ugh. I knew it. You probably hate kissing me. It must gross you out.”
“Not even in the slightest.”
She paused. “Really?”
With the crook of my finger, I lifted her chin. “I promise.”
Her gaze shifted to my lips. Her smooth cheeks flushed red.
“Well . . . if it doesn’t gross you out, maybe we should practice. You know, just to make sure we’re really selling this fake relationship.”
Bingo. I hit the freaking jackpot.
“It’s not a bad idea.” I played it casually.
“Do you want to give me some pointers?” she asked coyly.
I shook my head, slow and steady. “I don’t think you need any.” I leaned in just enough to make her breath hitch. “Just be yourself, Ivy.”
She smiled, and then her eyes fluttered shut and she fell into me, her lips gently landing on mine.
