Page 40 of Raising Love
“No balls from the other team are getting past you, LV,” he added, chuckling. “I like it.”
“Well, I love it,” I replied, leaning back against the seat as the streets of New York blurred past the window.
I was missing the city already. Ivy and I had been living in Greene Gardens for almost two months now, and the place still didn’t feel like home. Every chance I got to come back to NYC, any borough—even for just a game—I took it.
I wasn’t like Ivy. It was hard for me to spend all my days and nights in that village.
The thought of Ivy brought my mind back to that morning after the concert.
“Good morning,” I greeted as Ivy stepped into the kitchen.
Her steps faltered for a split second when she saw me sitting at the table. I wasn’t sure if she was surprised I was up so early or if she was thinking about what had happened—or almost happened—the night before.
“Hey,” she said, her voice forced. “Good morning.”
She moved toward the cabinet, pulling down a mug to make her coffee. Her shoulders were tense, her movements stiff—classic Ivy when something was on her mind.
“How’d you sleep?” I asked, breaking the silence.
“Good,” she replied quickly, her eyes carefully avoiding mine. “You?”
“Great,” I said with a smirk.
I knew she had to have slept well because I’d heard her moaning in her room shortly after we’d said good night.
The night of the concert had been... different. Ivy and I had gone to the same event every year with Kendra and Tyrell, but this time, something had shifted. And it wasn’t just because Kendra and Tyrell weren’t there. It was the way Ivy and I had interacted—the tension between us that felt new and uncharted.
For years, Ivy and I had known we weren’t each other’s type. She was meticulous, uptight, and far too serious for my free-spirited, live-in-the-moment personality. We’d agreed early on that whatever our friends had in mind for us just wasn’t going to work.
But last night changed something.
When she raced upstairs after we got home, I decided to give her some space. But when I stood outside her door, prepared to knock, I heard her moaning on the other side. And instead of walking away like I should have, I stood there, frozen, listening until the sound stopped.
When I returned to my room, I was wound tighter than a spring, my dick hard, body tense with something I couldn’t shake.
“We should talk about last night,” I said now, breaking the silence in the kitchen.
Ivy froze mid-pour, then slowly set the coffee pot down before turning to face me.
“What about last night?” she asked cautiously.
“The ride home.”
Her gaze flicked over me briefly before she looked away again. “We had a lot to drink,” she said, raising a hand to cut me off. “And we’ve been through a lot. Sometimes that makes people act... differently.”
“Ivy—”
“Let’s not let what happened—or didn’t happen—change our relationship,” she interjected, her tone firm. “Okay?”
I leaned back in my chair, studying her. She was trying so hard to put this wall back up between us, but I knew the truth. Whatever she wanted to pretend hadn’t happened last night—it was already too late to undo.
“Aight,” I said finally, forcing a casual nod.
“Okay,” she said, turning back to the coffeemaker. “Because we need to stay focused on Baby Love and all of our responsibilities.”
I tried to listen, but my eyes had other plans, trailing down her frame. Her legs, her hips... everything about her was distracting in a way it never had been before.
Whatever Ivy thought about keeping things the same between us, I knew one thing for sure: there was no going back.
