Page 7 of When Ivy Met Mr. Holiday
“Should I be concerned?” I asked, definitely concerned.
“Don’t worry thatpretty head of yours. I’m fine. We’re going to have a great time. I’ll be sure to grab some OREOs for you.”
OREOs were my go-to snack—whether I was traveling or just indulging on a regular day.
“Thanks. I’ll bring some sudoku puzzles for the flight.”
The best part of Jack’s childhood was his grandma Ruth. She loved sudoku puzzles—because of that, he did too. I was lucky enough to get to know her before she passed away.
Grandma Ruth was a character—sharp-witted and always ready to push her agenda. Every time I’d visit her tiny home on the outskirts of Austin, she’d ask when I was finally going to make her grandson an honest man and marry him.
I would laugh and tell her we werejustfriends.
She’d smile, eyes twinkling despite their dimming gray hue, and say, “That’s how the best relationships start.”
And right on cue, Jack would cut in with some smart-aleck remark, like, “Ivy, you really ought to be ashamed that you haven’t fallen for me yet.”
Then I would roll my eyes and respond, “Oh, jeez, with comments like that, I wonder why.”
I knew, without a doubt, he didn’t feel that way about me. That wasn’t something he would keep secret—I mean, hello, he had a revolving door of women. And he would love to prove me wrong and tell me we couldn’t be friends anymore because he had romantic feelings for me.
Grandma Ruth would laugh and say, “I can’t wait to get a weddingannouncement.”
Jack would kiss his grandma’s head with a melancholy air, as if he knew she’d never get the pleasure of seeing him get married. But while it wouldn’t be to me, I knew someday Jack would find the right woman who was up for the challenge of loving him and his impossible ego.
I only hoped she didn’t want to push me out of his life.
“You’re the best, Ivy.” Jack interrupted my thoughts. “I’ll see you soon.”
“I can’t wait.”
That was mostly true. I had missed Jack, and between his filming schedule and his usual holiday avoidance, I’d thought I wouldn’t get to see him for another month. But it would be a lie if I said I wasn’t worried about how this was all going to go down.
I had a feeling this was about to turn into the most Mr. Holiday Christmas ever. Heaven help us all.
Chapter Two
“A guy and a girl can be just friends, but at one point or another, they will fall for each other . . . Maybe temporarily, maybe at the wrong time, maybe too late, or maybe forever.”
Dave Matthews
Jack
Istoppedandtooka moment to gaze at Ivy sitting in the terminal, cradling her cup of dark hot chocolate with two shots of caramel—just how she liked it. A thin curl of steam rose from the top. Her comfort drink,she called it.
It had taken longer than I’d expected to return to her after running to grab a protein bar. Fans never failed to stop me to chat or snap a picture. Most of the time, I didn’t mind, but today, I just wanted to get back to Ivy. I hadn’t seen her in weeks.
Our separations were becoming harder and harder on me. This time around, I knew I had to put an end to the ridiculous friendship game we’d been playing for seven years. I wanted all of her, and I was going to prove she wanted all of me, too.
She looked adorably sexy in joggers and a hoodie, her leg bouncing as she smiled, one earbud in, listening to her favorite history podcast. The past called to her in ways I’d never fully understood but admired. Maybe because I hated thinking about my past. She shifted slightly, adjusting her earbud, her fingers tightening around the cup as she stole a quick glance at the boarding gate.
She’d never admit she was nervous about flying, but I knew her tells. The subtle bouncing of her leg, the way her grip tightened around her cup—tiny signs she thought no one noticed. But I did.
I did, because I noticed everything about her.
I so badly wanted to kiss the smile on her gorgeous face, to hold her hand in mine and tell her she had nothing to be nervous about. But I knew I had to play my cards right. She was the most stubborn person I’d ever met.
I kept wondering if she was hesitant about me coming home for the holidays with her because, deep down, she knew this could be a game changer for us and she’d have toswallow her pride . . . which would probably take a caramel hot chocolate the size of a kiddie pool to get down.
