“Fuck you, Levi.” She gestures to all the letters. “I kept every single one. I probably should have burned them all when I realized I didn’t matter to you anymore, but I guess I’m too sentimental.”
I kept all mine, too. I actually separated them into two categories; ones that still smell like her and ones that lost the scent. How’s that for fucking sentimental? I’m not going to share that bit of information with her though, maybe if she wasn’t being so obstinate.
“I saved your letters, too,” I say as I finger through the envelopes. “Why didn’t you write to me?”
“I did.”
I look up at her. She looks like she’s telling the truth. She’s a terrible liar, and while it’s been two years, I can’t see that being something that has changed.
“How many times?” I ask.
“Once.”
“Just once?” I wrote at least ten letters. I was so hurt and confused.
“Yeah. I figured you regretted,” she pauses, “things.”
“You mean having sex with you?”
Her eyes grow big, and she shushes me. “Don’t say it out loud. What if our parents were walking by?”
“Their room is on the other side of the house. They never come this way. Plus, they’re probably fucking. It’s the only thing they have in common.” I don’t want to say anything negative about Ivy’s Mom, but I really can’t stand her. Jennifer is a piece of shit, and I’ve spent the past year avoiding her whenever she’s around.
“Ewww. I could have lived not having heard that about them.” She scrunches up her nose adorably. It makes me want to kiss it.
I sit down on her bed and reach out to grab her waist. I pull her to me, my hands wrapping almost all the way around her waist. She’s wearing one of those shirts that shows her belly, and I’m distracted by how smooth her skin is beneath my palms. My thumbs move in small circles causing goosebumps to erupt over her tight abs. When our eyes meet, the atmosphere of the room heats. She pulls her lower lip in to bite it slowly, not like the girls at school who try too hard. Her bite is unintentional and so hot I don’t even notice that I’ve dragged her between my thighs.
Her hand moves to the nape of my neck, and she runs her fingers through my hair. I swallow nervously. I’ve thought about this off and on so many times the past two years. After a few months of sulking around waiting for a reply to my letters, I started having sex with other girls, but none of them have ever compared to Ivy. I’m not stupid enough to think that our first time was some sort of magical experience for her; it was over embarrassingly fast, but it was Ivy. She’s the gold standard, what I judge every girl off, and they’ve all paled in comparison.
I pull her all the way to me. Our lips meet, and I swear to God it’s better than I remember. She tastes like strawberry lemonade and smells like every good summer memory I’ve ever had. I’m about to deepen the kiss when her phone starts ringing. I dig my fingers into her waist to keep her close, but she covers my hands with hers and pushes them away.
“It’s my dad,” she says putting distance between us. She glances up at me before answering. “We can’t do this. We shouldn’t.”
Bullshit.
That felt right. She’s meant for me. I feel it in every single piece of me. I can play the long game, though, and bring her around. I stand up to leave and let my hand trail over her exposed belly. I pause as I pass her and kiss the skin where her neck meets her shoulder. I’m immensely satisfied when I see her physical response to my touch, a trail of goosebumps down her arm and an almost inaudible gasp.
* * *
The next morning, I’m sitting in the kitchen eating breakfast while our chef, Babs, is busy doing meal prep for Dad. He goes to our Manhattan offices Monday through Thursday and likes to eat healthy. He was an athlete through college and staying in good condition is a top priority for him. He’s pushing fifty and has a six-pack that rivals my own. He’s also insanely competitive, so he and I challenge each other all the time when we work out together.
Jennifer usually joins him in New York, but I’m wondering if she’ll stay now that Ives is living with us. She’s not very maternal, so I would not be surprised if she goes with him.
“Excited for your junior year?” Babs asks pushing my protein shake across the counter to me.
“Yeah, I’m starting quarterback this year, so you know we’ll kill it.” I give her a cheeky wink. “My course load is intense though.”
“Work hard on academics this year and then you can coast next year after you get accepted to college.” Her eyes light up and a smile crosses her face. Babs is actually a pretty attractive woman for being around my dad’s age. She has light brown hair and bright blue eyes, a face that has the character of aging gracefully. “You must be Ivy.” She steps around the island to shake Ivy’s hand.
I pull out the stool beside me for her to sit once introductions are over. She doesn’t look at me as she sits.
“Morning,” I say with a smirk.
“Good morning,” she replies primly.
“What can I make you for breakfast?” Babs asks Ivy.
“Could you do avocado toast with eggs? Two whole and three egg whites scrambled?”