Page 142 of Playing for Keeps
Grabbing my keys, I hurry out of the kitchen and head for the car. As I pull out of the driveway, I let out a groan. There’s a small cluster of reporters lingering near the entrance. Since my parents’ place is tucked away down a private drive, I hadn’t realized they were even there. Still, it’s nothing compared to what’s probably waiting outside Ivy’s parents’ house.
It’s a quick drive, but as I turn onto Ivy’s street, my jaw tightens. There must be at least twenty reporters andphotographers crowding the front of the house. Anger churns in my gut. No wonder Ivy left Phoenix. There’s no way her mom should be here alone, dealing with this circus.
I see the exact moment someone spots me. Not hard to do, considering I’m in myMercedes. Realizing Ivy probably won’t answer the door, assuming it’s another reporter, I hit her number on the hands-free.
“Hey,” she answers, and just hearing her voice makes my chest ache.
“Hey, baby. I’m outside.”
“What?” she says. “Outside where?”
“Your parents’ place. I’m just pulling into the driveway. I didn’t want you thinking it was another reporter banging on the door.”
I ease onto the drive and turn off the engine.
“You’re here?” she asks, like she doesn’t quite believe it.
“I am. Can you open the door when I knock?”
There’s a short pause, then, “Come around the back. I’ll unlock the gate.”
“Okay.”
The call ends, and as I step out, cameras flash and reporters start shouting my name, pelting me with questions I have zero interest in answering. I keep my head down and jog around the side of the house. The gate swings open easily. Ivy must have already unlocked it, and I quickly close it behind me, sliding the bolt into place.
As I step into the backyard, my breath hitches.
Ivy’s standing on the deck, waiting, and the second our eyes meet, she rushes down the steps and throws herself into my arms.
Relief floods through me the moment she’s in my arms, her body pressed tightly against mine. It feels like it’s been a lifetimesince I last held her, and now that I have her back, I don’t want to let go.
“I can’t believe you came,” she murmurs into my shoulder. “I’m so sorry for leaving the way I did. When Mom called, she sounded terrified, and I just… I panicked. Everything felt like too much all at once, but I should’ve called you. I should’ve said something. I’m sorry.”
Her words come in a frantic rush, and I pull back just enough to look at her, tilting her chin with my finger until our eyes meet.
“Hey,” I say, brushing her cheek with my thumb, “just breathe, okay? You don’t owe me an apology. Not for any of it. You did what you had to do. That’s all that matters.”
“I just needed some space,” she whispers, “But how I feel about you hasn’t changed.”
Her words feel like a weight’s been lifted from my shoulders, and I drop my forehead on hers. “Thank God. Because I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you, Ivy.”
She leans back and cups my jaw. “You haven’t lost me.”
“I wanted to come yesterday, but Ash stopped me. Said I should give you some space, but I couldn’t wait any longer.”
“I’m done needing space, Wyatt. I’m glad you’re here.”
We’re silent for a moment before I kiss her softly.
“Are your parents okay?”
“Yeah. Mom was pretty shaken up. Dad was out, but the reporters were still around when he got home from golf.”
“Damn. Ivy, I’m so sorry. They must hate me.”
“They don’t. I explained everything to them.”
I pause. “Ash told me you lost a client… I’m really sorry, baby.”
