Page 69 of Barre Fight
“I’ll get our coats and meet you at the exit,” Ivy nodded. She gave Carly a wave, congratulated Alice and Izzy again, and hurried away.
Keeping his face impassive, as if he didn’t want to sprint after her and hurl himself into a cab, he tapped Alice on the shoulder. “I’m heading out,” he said.
“You too?” She and Izzy looked surprised. Carly raised her eyebrows but said nothing.
“Yeah, I’m knackered. But have a great shotgun wedding,say hi to Elvis for me, and I’ll see you both when you get back to Sydney.”
Alice threw her arms around him and squeezed tightly. “Really proud of you, friend. There’s no one else I’d want to take New York by storm with.”
Touched, Justin squeezed her back. He and Alice had always been friendly, but never close. He’d always kept his circle of friends small, in the company and in life—he had his people, and he didn’t need anyone else. But between their shared nerves and her worries about Izzy, and their thrilling triumph on stage, something had shifted on this trip.
“I’m proud of you, too,” he said to the crown of her head.
Alice disentangled herself, and her hand found Izzy’s again. Justin turned to Carly.
“Good seeing you again,” he said, and she gave him a knowing smile.
“But you’ve got somewhere more exciting to be.” It wasn’t a question. She looked over her shoulder, in the direction of the coat check, then looked back at him, her smile wider now. “And someone more exciting to be there with.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he lied.
Carly snorted. “I know a woman who’s head over heels when I see one, but okay.”
“She’s—we’re—” Justin shot a furtive glance at Alice and Izzy.
“Justin, it’s fine. I won’t say anything you don’t want me to say. And if anyone asks, I’ll tell them you went home because you’re very,verytired.” She winked, and he gave her a grateful smile.
“Thanks, I appreciate your discretion.” He wanted to say more.Head over heels? How could she be so sure of that? And if Carly had seen that on Ivy’s face, what had she seen on his? Hedecided to leave before he could blurt any of that out. Ivy was waiting for him.
Chapter Nineteen
They walked uptown without talking much, heads bowed against the freezing night air. Ivy’s coat was wrapped snugly around her body, her sky-high boots tapping along the footpath as they hurried into the hotel.Head over heels. Carly’s words echoed in his head as they rode the lift to the sixth floor and walked purposefully down the hallway to their rooms.
Ivy glanced up and down the hallway before opening her door and pulling Justin inside. Before the door had clicked shut, his back was against the wall and she was untying the belt of her coat.
“Wait,” he breathed, and her hands froze.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong, but if you take that coat off I won’t be able to think straight.”
“Oh, really?” She smiled up at him coyly. “In that case…” She reached for her lapels, but he caught her wrists and held her still, feeling her pulse flickering under his fingertips. She was so soft here, and he couldn’t help but press his lips against the plump, smooth skin of one palm. Her small intake of breath almost undid him, but he forced himself to focus. He’d made a decision earlier, and he intended to stick to it.
“I mean it. That dress has been tormenting me all night,” he groaned into her wrist. Her eyes drifted closed. “Watching you walk around that party and not being able to touch you…” He pulled his hands away from her body and shoved them in his coat pockets while he tried to marshal his thoughts into words. She was so much better with words than he was.
“We’re going home tomorrow,” he started. “And I’m ready to leave New York. It’s fucking freezing and I’ve eaten enough bagels to last me a lifetime. But I was wondering…”
Ivy’s eyes had sprung open, and she was watching him closely in the dim light. He tried to read her thoughts on her face, wishing he didn’t have to put his hopes out in the open like this, where she could stomp her sharp heels all over them and walk away.
“You were wondering?” she prompted, and it sounded like she was holding her breath.
Fuck. Best to put it all on the table. Not push his feelings down like a good old-fashioned country man. If she didn’t want him after tonight, it was better to know that now.
“I want more of this. More of you. If you’ll—if you want that too. I mean, if you want more of me. Too.” No one was ever going to accuse him of being a professional writer, he thought, kicking himself for not figuring out before this very moment how to tell her what he wanted. Maybe this was why musicals existed. In a musical, he could have just sung his feelings, and then she’d sing hers, and then they’d dance, and by the final pose this would all be sorted.
Christ. Ivy Page had gotten him to New York. She’d made sure that nosy journalist didn’t write the hit piece she was clearly hungry for. And now she’d made him understand musical theater. Was there anything this woman couldn’t do?Justin doubted it, but he hoped she’d keep him around long enough to find out. He waited for her to speak.
After what felt like hours, she smiled up at him. “I want more of you.”
