Page 29 of Worth the Rush
He was actually very handsome when we were younger. Dark, thick hair and lashes to match. I was nineteen, freshly out of my first year of college, and looking to piss off my father. He was thirty-two and infatuated with me. Neither of us ever planned for it to go any further than the summer. I think I could have forgiven him for the way he treated me in our marriage because it was never meant to be anything more. I could have forgiven him, but forgiveness isn’t on the table anymore. Not after how he treated my loss.
I take a long sip of my club soda, and then place it on the small wooden stool I pulled over beside me. I need to get out of the water and get some sleep. Having my ex-husband here for the next couple of weeks will make life hard. Pretending Alder and I are together will be harder. As attractive as I find him, I’m uninterested in spending time with anyone seriously these days. I have one goal and one goal only. Get back to California.
Standing, I reach for my towel and wrap it around myself before stepping onto the bathmat. I grab my glass of water and make my way into my bedroom. When I check my phone, there are three missed calls and eight text messages. I’m sure most of the texts are from Sienna, so I toss it back onto the bed and get into my pajamas. Tonight’s set have little Christmas trees and red bows on them. I curl up in my bed and reach for my book. The same book I’ve been meaning to read for the last three weeks but haven’t found the time, and now that I do, I don’t feel like reading. One of the worst feelings in the world is wanting to read and not wanting to read anything.
I decide to check my phone again and open my messages. It turns out six texts are from Sienna, a text and two calls are from my father, and one is from an unknown number. I glance at the one from my father.
Sullivan
Noah will be staying at the resort. Be professional.
I snort at that. Thanks for the heads up, asshole. The last text is the one I focus on, though, one that has me reluctantly smiling. Five words that have my heart pounding a little faster. One nickname that has butterflies erupting in my belly.
Unknown Number
Be ready at 7, princess.
Ivy
How did you get my number?
I giggle and add his details to my contacts before tossing my phone on the bed beside me. I reach for my book, but it vibrates almost instantly, so I scramble for it in the blankets and open his message. Then I take a breath, trying to settle the butterflies erupting inside me. Calm down, Ivy. He’s just a man. I remind myself, not fully believing that, but deny, deny, deny is my go-to.
Lover Boy
I would tell you but…
Ivy
Then you’d have to kill me?
Lover Boy
Whoa, whoa, whoa. Easy, Stormcloud. That’s so dark. No. Then I’d have to kiss you. Yikes. Have you been watching true crime at night?
I laugh out loud; alone in my bed.Stormcloud. Why do I like that so much?
Ivy
Maybe. It’s relaxing. So…how did you get my number?
Lover Boy
You don’t remember? I got it from you. The night I wrote the note for the tow truck.
Lover Boy
Relaxing? Ivy, we can do better than that.
Ivy
You remembered my number?
I choose not to ask what other ways he thinks I could be relaxing. I may like his answer too much. That seems to be the theme with him. He lets it go, but I snort at his response.
Lover Boy
I have a photographic memory.
