Page 15 of By the Book

Chapter 7

Tripp

Seeing Ivy’s text had sent white hot rage shooting through me. But it had been mingled with something else, something more difficult to pinpoint. I’d broken out into a run the instant I saw it. Panic, the feeling was raw panic.

Since that moment, I’ve allowed myself to act based on my emotions. And that includes the desperate need to have Ivy within reach. It’s selfish, my motive for being the one here with her. I have to be the one to ensure she’s okay, it’s the only way to settle the unfettered fear that I felt with her words.

“Tripp?” Ivy whispers beside me.

Without thinking, I reach out and place my hand on her shoulder. “Yes?”

“You’re very… quiet.”

I swallow and slowly nod. “You were there. They got so close to you.”

They got so close to hurting her. That was the longest drive of my life, from the sheriff department to her shop. Thoughts bombarded me with worst case scenarios the whole way.

Arriving to see her unharmed physically had been the first wave of relief. Holding her in my arms and feeling her settle into me, that was the second.

“Thanks for checking your phone.”

“I saw your name,” I admit. It’s the only reason I opened the text in the middle of reviewing reports.

I’ve been letting down the town since I took this position, it seems. But now I’ve failed the one person whose safety means more to me than anyone else.

I’m not sure when it started. Maybe it was in high school when she begged to play lacrosse in the yard with Wes and me. When he finally agreed, she had taken a ball to the shoulder. He hadn’t gone easy on her, and she had yelped in pain. I never wanted to hear the sound again.

Or maybe it was when she was in college and her boyfriend had cheated on her right before her birthday. I was out for blood when she called Wes, sobbing through the phone. We’d jumped in the car immediately and he had to calm me down our whole drive to the campus.

More than likely, it was earlier than all of that, though. It was probably that first day Wes had brought me to their house after practice. I remember how it felt, standing in their kitchen when she came bounding through the door. She smiled so sweetly at me and my mind had gone blank.

Over the years, I have always noticed things about Ivy that are like secrets one has to uncover. And despite the fact that I’m eager to discover every detail about her, she’s unattainable. The way it would betray Wes and their parents if I tried something… but that doesn’t mean I can’t do everything in my power to take care of her.

The vandal had made a grave mistake, targeting her. Any conviction that was waning within me now burns fiery hot. They won’t get away with causing that sweet smile to slip.

Ivy

Just a few blocks up from The Open Book, my apartment is located in a converted, three-story brownstone, each floor being a separate dwelling. Riding the short distance home, it’s as if my brain has short circuited. I’m having an impossible time forming a coherent thought other thansomeone broke into my store,andTripp is sleeping at my place. I’m not sure which one is more difficult to believe.

“Have you talked to your family?” he asks, peering over at me, concern still etched on his face.

“I’m just… not ready to deal with it all. And you know my dad and brother will want to spring into action. I’ll call them tomorrow before they drive by the smashed door and freak out.”

“That’s fine, you know. You don’t owe anyone anything. Just tell me what you need.”

“I’m not even sure what I need,” I admit quietly. “I think I’m in shock?”

“And that’s one of the reasons I’m not leaving you alone tonight.”

A question sits on the tip of my tongue as he parks in front of my building. I want to know all the reasons, butterflies stirring within me.

The front door of the brownstone leads to a lobby with emerald and white checkerboard floor tiles. Wainscotting runs the walls, and a brass chandelier hangs above the open staircase. I had fallen in love the minute I saw the listing.

We climb the stairs to my place on the second floor, my brain frantically trying to remember if Tripp has ever been here besides the day I moved in. My brother was on another continent, and my dad was not fit to move anything. Of course, no one knew that detail about my dad, but Tripp and Hayden had agreed in an instant when my mom elicited their help.

Anticipation fills my stomach as I unlock the wood paneled door. Pushing it open, I lead Tripp over the threshold and intothe living space. A fireplace sits across from the doorway, beside it a large bay window and bench tucked into the nook. There is a stack of books on the end table beside the couch. And on the coffee table. And on the kitchen counter.

Tripp walks to the bay window and looks out, his eyes sweeping up and down the street. He turns, taking in the fireplace filled with varying sized ivory pillar candles and then moves to the end table, studying the books atop it. It’s as if he’s cataloging my apartment, the same way he took in the details at the shop earlier tonight.

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