Page 82 of Playing for Keeps
I smile, already knowing how much I like the idea of seeing her again tonight.
“Of course I’m sure,” Mom says warmly. “You’re always welcome, sweetheart. You know that.”
“Okay, thank you. What time should I come over?”
“Wyatt will pick you up at six-thirty,” Mom answers without missing a beat. “Then you and I can split a bottle of wine. Sound good, Wyatt?”
I glance at Ivy and nod. “Sounds perfect.”
“I can just get an Uber,” she offers. “That way you can have a beer, Wyatt.”
I shake my head. “I’m good. I’ll come get you at six-thirty.”
She smiles. “Okay. Thanks.” She hands me the grocery bag she took from Mom. “I guess I’d better head home and get some work done. I’ll see you later?”
“See you later, sweetheart,” Mom chimes in with a grin.
“Bye, Ivy,” I add.
I watch as she walks across the driveway and climbs into her car, giving us a little wave before pulling away.
I turn to Mom, narrowing my eyes. “What exactly are you up to?”
“Me?” she asks, all innocence. “Absolutely nothing.”
“Right,” I say, unconvinced.
She gives a casual shrug. “Just inviting a friend over for dinner. You can thank me later. Maybe wear that shirt I like. I think Ivy will like it too.”
“You are unbelievable.”
“And you’re welcome,” she calls over her shoulder as she disappears inside.
I shake my head, but I’m smiling. I can’t even pretend to be mad.
Not when I get to see Ivy again tonight.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Wyatt
Ihop into my car and drive the short distance to Ivy’s place. I don’t usually dress up for a dinner at my parents’ place, but tonight, I’ve made more of an effort than I probably should have, just because she’ll be there. It’s ridiculous. I know it is, but I do it anyway.
I pull into her driveway, hop out, and head up the porch steps. I ring the doorbell and wait.
“Come in!” Ivy calls from somewhere upstairs.
I push the door open to an empty entryway.
“Ivy?” I call.
“Be right down! Make yourself at home!”
I chuckle quietly and glance around the entryway. My eyes are immediately drawn to the picture wall above a small console table. I head over, taking in the snapshots of her and Ash from when they were kids all the way to now. In every photo, Ivy’s smiling widely, full of life. There are one of the two of themwith me and my brothers. Ash and Ivy must’ve been around seventeen or eighteen. I barely remember it being taken. But there she is. And even then, she fit right in.
I stare at her face, wondering how I could have been so blind. How I never noticed how incredible she is until recently.
“Hey,” Ivy says from behind me.
