Page 89 of Clint & Ivy

Soon, a golf course stretched over many acres. I spotted a few stray golfers still roaming the course under the dying light.

Even before the golf course came to an end, I could hear indie rock playing. Just past the course and a small open field, a black iron gate stretched around a property.

The Sorority House had white columns and wide lower and upper porches. The doors stood open, and people streamed in and out of the massive house.

Our group pulled through the front gates and parked among the dozens of other motorcycles and a handful of cars on a wide circular drive.

As I climbed off the bike, I remained transfixed by the party atmosphere before me. I couldn’t peel my gaze from the people on the porch.

Once I removed the pink helmet, I soaked in the melodic rock filling the air. For the first time, I witnessed the Crimson Guard in one place. If I wanted to understand Clint’s life, these people were the key.

Elle left the porch and walked toward us. Her blonde hair was tied in two braids hanging down her chest. She smiled widely at her brother before taking my hand.

“Let Ivy breathe without you,” she told Clint, who gradually released my hand. “People are dying to meet her.”

I looked back at Clint, who gave me a sexy smile. Though I hoped I grinned back, my nerves might have left me staring like a scared kid.

As Elle guided me to the front porch, I heard someone call out from the upper deck. “Is that her?” a blonde woman asked, hanging over the railing. “I’ll be right down.”

Elle smiled at me. “People are psyched to meet the girl who stole my brother’s heart,” she explained before gesturing at the women sitting in pastel wicker chairs on the lower porch. “Who’s first?”

“Let it be me,” announced a woman with pale green hair.

Not athletically built like Elle and Sabrina, this woman had a wiry body. Her super straight hair hung down to her waist. If a hippie and a punk rocker had a kid, it would look like the woman in front of me.

“I’m Cher,” she told me and wrapped my body in a welcoming hug.

Cher embraced me like we were at the funeral for my entire family. I felt held in a wonderful, welcoming way. When she let me go, she smiled back at a pink-haired woman with the same face and build.

“This here is my sister, Stevie,” Cher explained before asking her sister, “Isn’t Ivy gorgeous?”

“Dreamlike,” Stevie said and offered me a similarly warm hug.

I was struck by a strange sensation. There was something almost familiar about these women. I felt as if I’d always known them, yet life had kept us apart.

“Don’t be overwhelmed,” Stevie said when tears filled my eyes. “We’re family.”

I looked at Elle, who smiled like she understood what I was thinking. “Come on inside and meet Goldie. Her brother’s misadventures brought you into our lives.”

Inside the large mansion, a woman with bleached blonde hair ran smiling at me. Her brown eyes lit up, and she introduced herself.

“This is her,” Goldie gushed. “Look at you thinking we’re all nuts.”

“That’s not what I’m thinking,” I said as she hugged me to her.

Elle explained, “I suspect she isn’t used to so much hugging.”

“Not even from Clint?” Goldie teased. “You'd best force him to cuddle more. A girl has needs.”

Nodding, I struggled to find the right words. Everyone around me was in their element. They were comfortable with their bodies and effortlessly shared their thoughts.

Yet, a part of me was still the loser back in the mansion imagining a fun adventure. I kept forgetting to speak up. I also became overly aware of how my scar was slightly visible in this army green T-shirt. I’d wanted to show Clint how I could be myself around his people.

But now, feeling overwhelmed to the point of nausea, I wished I had played everything safe.

“She isn’t chatty yet,” Elle explained to the others while tugging me into a colorful kitchen overlooking the massive family room. “But a little booze will help Ivy find her voice.”

I wasn’t sure about drinking alcohol. What if I got wasted and said stupid stuff that would embarrass Clint?

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