Page 85 of Playing for Keeps
Ivy looks at me, and I just shrug. We sit there, watching them collect the dishes and disappear into the kitchen, leaving the two of us alone at the table.
“You can just take me home,” she says quietly. “Or I’ll call an Uber.”
“You’re not getting an Uber. I’ll take you if you want to leave.”
She hesitates, then glances down. “I don’twantto go. I just figured you probably have better things to do than sit through a movie with me.”
Her words tumble out so fast, it’s like she’s trying to take them back as she says them. I smile, shaking my head. She really has no clue.
“No, Ivy,” I say. “I don’t.” I stand and offer her my hand. “So... what do you want to watch?”
She grins, slipping her hand into mine as I pull her to her feet. “I’m picking,” she says, teasing now. “Your choice last time wasterrible.”
“Hey,” I say, pretending to be offended. “Die Hardis a classic.”
She laughs. “Okay, it’s not terrible... just not my first choice.”
I groan. “Don’t tell me you’re going to pick a rom-com.”
She smirks. “Maybe.”
I pull a face. “I’m definitely gonna need a beer for this.”
“What happened to the champagne?” she teases, wiggling her eyebrows.
I smirk. “Look who’s being trouble now.”
She laughs, her eyes dancing. “You grab the snacks and drinks, I’ll pick the movie.”
I hold her gaze. I’m still teasing her about the movie, but the truth is, I don’t care what we watch. I’m just glad she’s here.
“Deal,” I say, finally letting go of her hand and watching as she heads toward the den.
By the time I reach the kitchen, my parents are already gone. The dinner dishes are stacked by the sink, completely abandoned, and I can’t help but chuckle. My mom doesn’t know the meaning of subtle, but I’m not complaining.
I grab a bottle of champagne from the pantry and stick it in the fridge to chill. I’m not sure if she was serious about it or just messing around, but I’m not taking any chances.
Then I grab a beer for myself, pour a glass of red for Ivy, and rummage around for snacks. Chips and some chocolate will do. With everything in hand, I head back to the den, already smiling.
“What’d you pick?” I ask as I step into the den.
She’s curled up on the corner of the big sofa, shoes off, legs tucked beneath her. When she turns to look at me, I can’t help but smile. She’s so damn beautiful it hurts a little.
I drop the snacks beside her and hand her the glass of wine.
“Thanks,” she says, grinning. “We’re watchingDear John.” She moves the snacks around and pats the spot next to her. “I’m guessing you’ve never seen it?”
I sink down beside her. “Nope.”
Her eyes light up. “You’re in for a treat. It’s my and Ash’s favorite.”
I glance at her sideways. “That doesn’t exactly fill me with confidence.”
She nudges my arm with her elbow. “Just try and keep an open mind, okay? Not all movies need explosions and Bruce Willis.”
I look down at her with a smirk. “That sounds like a dig atDie Hard.”
She laughs before taking a sip of her wine. “Maybe, but I bet you’ll be crying by the end.”
