Page 93 of Playing for Keeps
I pass her the business card, then jog toward Ivy’s room.
“Good luck!” she calls after me.
I lift a hand in acknowledgment but don’t slow down. I’m not leaving this hotel until I make things right with Ivy.
When I reach her door, I pause and take a deep breath before raising my hand to knock. My nerves are a tangled mess, and I feel like I might be sick.
The door opens abruptly, and my breath catches the moment I see her. Her eyes are red, and her face is streaked with dried tears.
“What are you doing here?” she asks, avoiding my gaze. Her voice is quiet. “How did you even…” She stops herself and lets out a resigned breath. “Never mind. It was Ash, wasn’t it?”
“Can I come in?” I ask, leaning heavily against the doorframe, using it to hold me up, all while fighting the urge to pull her into my arms and tell her everything.
She doesn’t answer, just steps aside and leaves the door open before walking back into the room. She sits stiffly on the edge of the bed. I follow her in and close the door behind me.
“What do you want, Wyatt?” she asks, her tone flat and defeated. The sound of it guts me.
I sit beside her, but she moves away slightly. That small movement hurts more than I thought possible.
“It’s not what you think,” I say, my throat sore and scratchy.
She lets out a sharp breath. “It doesn’t matter, Wyatt. We were only ever pretending. You can do whatever you want with whoever you want.”
“The woman you saw in my apartment… she’s my agent.”
She turns her head toward me, her eyes narrowing. “Your agent’s a guy.”
I frown. “Who told you that?”
“You did. When you gave Luca’s mom the contact info, you said Ronnie would be in touch. Ronnie’s a guy’s name.”
I give a small smile. “Usually, yeah. But in this case, Ronnie is short for Veronica. She hates her full name, so she goes by Ronnie.”
“Oh.” She looks away again. “It doesn’t change anything. You can sleep with whoever you want.”
I close my eyes, my vision blurring. “I’m not sleeping with her, Ivy.”
“Then why was she walking around in your shirt?”
“She spilled coffee on herself. I gave her something to wear while her clothes went in the dryer. I thought she’d left hours ago. I didn’t even know she was still there until she woke me up.”
I can see doubt flickering in her eyes.
“She came from your bedroom,” she says quietly.
“The guest room,” I correct. “She was just using the bathroom. That’s it.”
I consider reaching out and taking her hand, but I don’t, not yet. “I know it doesn’t look great,” I say. “But I swear to you, it’s the truth.”
She looks down at her hands. “Why do you even care what I think?”
“Because I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you, Ivy. Since that night at the auction, since we talked for hours, you’ve been on my mind constantly.”
Her lips part slightly, her eyes wide. “What?”
“Everything that happened last weekend, it wasn’t pretend for me. Every look, every touch, every time I held your hand… none of it felt fake. I didn’t want it to be.”
“Then why didn’t you say anything?”
