Page 75 of Playing for Keeps
Ivy
It’s Monday evening, and I’m getting ready to meet Ash, Taylor, and Paisley in Eden. Ash had barely waited until Wyatt dropped me off yesterday before calling, her voice buzzing with excitement as she insisted we meet tonight so I could give her the full debrief on my birthday weekend.
I’d really tried to convince her that everything she’d seen online was just part of the act, but I could hear it in her voice that she wasn’t buying it.
And if I’m being honest with myself… neither am I.
It’s hard to keep pretending when I can still feel the weight of Wyatt’s hands on my waist from Saturday night, or the way he looked at me when I came out wearing his jersey. That wasn’t acting. At least, it didn’t feel like it. He held me like he meant it, like he didn’t want to let go.
And I didn’t want him to either.
I loved wearing his jersey. I loved spending time with him. I loved the whole weekend in a way I probably shouldn’t have. Because no matter how close we got, or how good it felt to be near him, I can’t let myself believe it means something.
Why would it?
He could have anyone. He’s charming, famous, gorgeous, and I’m just… me, ordinary and unremarkable. There’s no universe where someone like him genuinely wants someone like me.
I’ve never been in a relationship. Never even been close. Maybe it was naive to think I could pretend and not get caught up in it. Maybe it was always going to backfire.
He doesn’t like me. Not really. I just let myself believe in something that felt good, because I’ve never had anything like it before, real or not. And now I’m left trying to untangle the feelings that up until now I didn’t know I had.
I shove aside the whirlwind of thoughts racing through my mind and focus on getting ready. I slip into a pair of black skinny jeans over a lace bodysuit and step into nude, heeled pumps An oversized blazer goes on next, before I toss my curled hair over my shoulder, swipe on some lip gloss, and grab my purse.
A few minutes later, I’m walking along the sidewalk toward Eden. I’m nearly there when my phone buzzes in my purse, signaling a new message.
I pull it out, and the moment I see Wyatt’s name on the screen, my stomach flips, and butterflies erupt. I tap the message open.
Wyatt:Hey, Ivy. Sorry, I was in the gym. I can do tomorrow at two. Want me to pick you up around twelve and grab lunch first?
I’d messaged him earlier to confirm the Willow Street property viewing, but this is the first I’ve heard back. The thought of having lunch with him is more tempting than I want to admit. Still, I already have a client appointment at noon, and I doubt I’ll be done in time to meet him beforehand.
Me:I’d love to, but I’ve got another viewing at twelve. I might need to meet you at the house if it runs over, hope that’s okay?
The message marks as read almost instantly, and a typing bubble appears. Then disappears, then pops back up again. He’s either typing an essay or debating whatever he wants to say. Finally, another message comes through.
Wyatt:Is it with the guy who asked you out?
My brows knit together. Why is he asking that? My heart wants to believe he’s jealous, but the rational part of me assumes he’s just being nosy. Or worse, gearing up to make a joke about it.
Me:Yeah. Why?
My phone chimes in my hand almost immediately.
Wyatt: No reason. Just figured it might be. You okay with that?
I frown, reading his message twice.Okay with that?What’s that supposed to mean?
I stare at the screen, considering how to reply. The viewing itself is fine, it’s just work. Do I wish the guy had never asked me out? Of course I do, but I can handle it. Something about Wyatt asking the question feels… loaded, though.
Me: It’s work, Wyatt. It’s not a date.
He reads the message instantly, and the typing bubble flickers on and off again as if he’s overthinking whatever it is he wants to say.
Wyatt: Yeah. I know. Just… I guess I didn’t expect you to say yes to continue working with him after he hit on you.
I blink. There it is. Not jealousy, exactly. But something close.
My heart pounds in my chest as I approach Eden. I’m a few minutes late, so I’m guessing the girls are already here. Still, I hesitate at the door, my fingers flying over the screen.
