Page 79 of Playing for Keeps
“I’ll take that as a yes.” He laughs, tossing it back with a little less force but just as much accuracy.
We settle into a familiar rhythm. It’s quiet and easy with no need for words. It feels good being out here, focusing on the ball instead of the noise in my head.
After a while, he speaks. “You want to talk about it?”
I shrug. “Not much to say.”
He gives me a look. “Son, you’ve been throwing that ball like it’s the guy Ivy’s out with. You sure there’s not something to say?”
I sigh, rubbing a hand over the back of my neck. I guess Mom told him. “She’s just doing her job. I know that. This guy likes her, though. I shouldn’t be jealous, but I am.”
“Sounds as though you like her too.”
It’s not a question.
“Yeah. It threw me for a loop. One second, she was just Ivy, someone I’ve known forever, and then suddenly, she was all I could think about.”
Dad nods and steps in a little closer, his expression serious. “So, what’s holding you back?”
I hesitate. “If I say something and she doesn’t feel the same… it’ll change everything. Our friendship, the way things are with Ash, with the family. I don’t want to mess that up.”
He’s quiet for a beat, then sets the football down and claps a steady hand on my shoulder.
“If you don’t tell her, you’ better be okay watching her fall for someone else. Can you live with that?”
The answer comes out before I even think about it. “Hell, no.”
He smiles, the kind of look that says he already knew. “Then you know what you need to do.”
Before either of us can say anything, the sound of tires crunching on the gravel cuts through the air.
Dad glances over his shoulder toward the front of the house, then back at me. “That her?”
“Maybe,” I say, already moving toward the side gate.
My dad’s words replay in my head as I make my way around the side of the house. The truth is there’s no way I can stand by and watch Ivy fall for someone else. If I want any chance of stopping that from happening, I need to tell her how I feel before it’s too late.
As I round the side of the house, my breath hitches when I see her step out of the car. She looks effortlessly stunning in a black pencil skirt that hugs her ass, a cream silk blouse that’s tucked in just right, and black heels that make her legs look even longer. Her hair’s pulled back in a hair tie, and oversized sunglasses are perched on her nose. I can’t tear my eyes away.
“Hey,” I say, stopping in front of her. “How’d the viewing go?”
She makes a face, and unease coils in my stomach. “Not great. He didn’t love the house, so I’ll keep looking.” She pauses. “I finished up quicker than I thought, so I figured I’d swing by and we could head to the other viewing together, if that’s still okay?”
“Yeah, of course.” I nod. “Was he... respectful?”
She waves it off like it’s nothing. “Yeah, he was fine. He saw the photos online like everyone else, so when I told him I was dating someone, it made sense.” She lets out a light laugh. “Besides, I don’t date clients anyway. That was never going to be a thing.”
Her words hit harder than I expect. Any intention I had of telling her how I feel dissolves right then. Maybe that was her way of drawing a line, of making it clear without needing to have the awkward conversation. Either way, I hear it loud and clear. That’s the second time she’s said it. She doesn’t date clients. And right now, that’s exactly what I am.
An hour later, we pull up in front of the house Ivy’s arranged for us to view. I haven’t even gotten out of the car yet or set a foot inside, but I already know I love it.
“Damn, Ivy. This place is something else,” I say, still staring through the windshield.
She doesn’t answer right away, and when I glance over, her expression is a mirror of mine, like the house caught us both completely off guard.
“It really is beautiful,” she says. “It looks like something out ofBridgerton.”
“Bridgerton?” I repeat, a little lost.
