Page 55 of One More Made Up Love Song
“You’re sure about this?” I study the uncertainty in Ivy’sexpression and tell myself this is a good thing. It’s the thing we want. The thing weneedso we can be in charge of the story.
But I suddenly wonder what would happen if I asked Ivy to be with me for real. What would she say?
A relationship with me surely seems like a gamble. The traveling, the lack of privacy, the demanding schedule. It wouldn’t be easy.
Then again, she already knows that. She’s been living this life with me for five years.
And…she just told me she wants to work for someone else, to move out of my house. She’s clearly craving a normalcy I can’t give her.
A fake relationship is probably the only thing I’m ever going to get.
“Absolutely not,” Ivy says. “But we’re doing it anyway, and I’m okay with that.”
I look at Wayne, who is watching expectantly, waiting for my cue. “Okay,” I say, squeezing Ivy’s hand. “Let’s do it.”
He nods, then exits the car, circling around to the door closest to the arena. This means Ivy will get out first, but that’s not what I want. I want to go first so I can turn and help her—make it look less like she’s working for me and more like I’m paying attention, taking care ofherfor a change.
“Here, switch places with me,” I say as Wayne opens the door.
“What?”
“Let me get out first,” I say.
“Why? Does it really matter?”
“If you’re my assistant, you get out first,” I say. “But you aren’t. Not anymore.”
“Technically, Iam,” Ivy argues, but she still unbuckles her seatbelt and climbs over the front of me. The car suddenly seems very small for this kind of movement, but we’re committed, so I lift my arms to give her as much room as possible.
Ivy only makes it halfway before the button on the sleeve of her jacket snags on the zipper on the front of my hoodie.
“Wait, wait,” I say, shifting my hands to her hips to stop her movement. “You’re caught.”
She relaxes her weight, sitting down on my lap so she’s fully straddling me. “Am I?” she asks, but then she seems to see and sets to work trying to free herself from my clothes. “Oh,” she grumbles. “Well, this is annoying.”
I should be annoyed, but I’m mostly just thinking about how good it feels to have her against me like this, my hands resting on the curve of her hips, her knees bracketing either side of my lap. That’s a dangerous train of thought though, so I tilt my gaze upward and force myself to think about something else.
My favorite hockey team just made it to the Stanley Cup Playoffs. That’s exciting. They’re a relatively new franchise, and no one thought they stood a chance this year. I wonder if I could get tickets to a game. I bet Wayne would enjoy that?—
“There,” Ivy finally says as she shifts off my lap. “Free. Sorry about that.”
I clear my throat. “No worries,” I say. But the tightness pinching a spot right behind my ribs makes me think Ishouldbe worried.
“Whenever you’re ready, Freddie,” Wayne says from where he’s standing by the open car door.
“Right. Got it,” I say sliding toward the door. When Imeet Wayne’s gaze, he gives me an amused look that seems to sayhethinks I should be worried too.
I step out of the car, and the cheers of the onlooking fans grow even louder. I don’t look at them—not yet. I stay focused on Ivy, holding out my hand, which she takes as she emerges from the car. As soon as she’s upright, I tuck an arm around her shoulders, pulling her into my side, and guide us toward the arena.
If I thought the cheers were loud before, they’re twice that as soon as everyone sees us together.
A strange sense of protectiveness surges inside me. I’m used to fans looking at me, screaming atme,but knowing they’re watching Ivy now too—that’s different.
I tug her even closer, my hand sliding under the hem of her jacket and settling into the curve of her waist. But it doesn’t feel like enough. I don’t know how to protect her from this. From everything that comes withme.
“We should wave at them,” she says, slowing her steps.
I’m too lost in my thoughts to protest, so I follow Ivy’s lead, turning and lifting an arm to wave at the watching crowd.
