Page 100 of Playing for Keeps
I shift slightly, coaxing her to look up at me. “Why?”
She lifts her head, giving me a look that tells me she’s feeling self-conscious.
“Because I’m twenty-five, Wyatt. Who makes it to twenty-five without ever being with someone?”
“There’s nothing wrong with that. Nothing at all.”
She opens her mouth to speak, then hesitates.
“Say it,” I urge her. “Nothing you say is going to change how I feel about you.”
She exhales slowly, her eyes dropping to her hands. “You just… have all this experience. I’ve done basically nothing.” Her voice softens. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”
I keep my face neutral, not wanting her to see the surprise I feel. I’d known she hadn’t been with anyone, but I assumed she’d at least donesomething.But it doesn’t change a thing for me. I’m not drawn to Ivy because of what she has or hasn’t done. I’m drawn to her because she’sher. Beautiful, funny, kind. The list is endless.
“We’ll figure it out together,” I say quietly. “I know you’re nervous. I am too.”
Her brows lift. “You’re nervous?”
I nod. “This isn’t casual for me, Ivy. You matter. I’ve been with people, yeah, but I’ve neverfeltlike this before.”
Her eyes widen. “Really?”
“Really, baby.”
A smile spreads across her face. “You called me baby.”
I grin. “You like that?”
She nods, her cheeks turning pink. “I love it.”
“Good. Get used to it.” I press a kiss to her lips, soft and slow. “You know you can talk to me about anything, right?”
“I do,” she whispers. “Thank you for being so amazing.”
Right then, her stomach growls, loudly.
I laugh. “Hungry?”
She nods sheepishly. “I haven’t eaten since breakfast yesterday.”
“Well, then, I need to feed my girl,” I say, brushing my lips against hers before standing and pulling her up with me.
We walk hand-in-hand to the kitchen, but before I can grab the mixing bowl, she beats me to it.
“Hey, I was supposed to be makingyoubreakfast,” I protest, reaching for it.
She holds it out of reach and gives me a look. “You’re still sick. I’m making you breakfast. Sit.” She points to a stool at the breakfast bar.
“I’m feeling better,” I grumble.
“Sit.”
I narrow my eyes at her, grinning. “God, you’re sexy when you’re bossy.”
She laughs, and I do as I’m told, watching her take the batter to the stove and start cooking. Her back is to me, and she looks over her shoulder.
“I forgot to mention with everything that’s happened, but I heard back about the garage extension at the Willow Street property. It’s looking like it won’t be an issue.”
