Fire, page 11
“Dad made sure I knew I was just as responsible. Maybe more so.” She stares at a berry stain on her finger, then sucks it into her mouth. “He sat me down one evening after I’d finally accepted that you’d…” She sighs, shaking her head and it’s like the weight of the world has settled on her shoulders. “I thought you’d abandoned me. Oh, God Micah. I was such a mess. You have no idea.”
Technically she abandoned me first, but now’s not the time to drop that bomb.
“And Dad?” Ivy continues. “He swoops in, promising to take care of me, provide food and clothing…toys…for Nell. The only stipulation was that he wouldn’t pay for childcare. It seemed so reasonable at first.”
“I’m sure your mom was happy to pitch in.” I think of my own mother and how she’d be around a baby. Shit…I need to tell my parents about Nell…
Talk about dropping bombs. Hey Mom? Dad? I’d like you to meet your granddaughter. She’s six and all I know about her is her name, her favorite flavor of ice cream, and that she hates all things pink. Have fun!
“See.” Ivy picks up a berry then puts it down, before sliding the plate away. “That’s where things got unreasonable. Dad forbade Mom to help. ‘To teach me a lesson about responsibility,’ he said. Because I needed a healthy reminder about choices and consequences and obviously, growing up with so much privilege had blinded me to the realities of the world.” Ivy sucks in her lips, then chews on the bottom one.
I watch, transfixed, until I swallow hard and straighten. “Would he let your friends watch Nell? Or your friends’ parents?”
“There’s yet another catch. The second Dad learned I was pregnant, he yanked me out of my hoity toity private school and enrolled me in an online high school. I didn’t really have any friends.”
“Which meant no job.”
“And no college.” Ivy folds her arms on the counter. “It was a miracle of timing I didn’t fail my senior year. My due date was the week before graduation. I busted my ass to get my grades as strong as possible in case Nell came early, but thankfully, she was late. Which meant I graduated before she was born and only fell a little behind because of appointments and just generally feeling awful towards the end.”
Meanwhile, my senior year was spent going to parties and prom, staying out late and doing just enough work so my parents wouldn’t complain about my grades. I feel like such a fucking asshole. Guilt twists my insides as I think of everything she had to give up.
“So your dream of being a psychologist?”
Ivy spins her wine glass on the counter and sighs. “That died a long time ago. My life is dedicated to that little girl up there.” She points toward the stairs with a mix of ferocity and devotion.
Becoming a psychologist was all Ivy ever wanted. Every elective she took in high school was aimed at making her more appealing to colleges. She even interned at a clinic one summer to gain medical experience. Her not being able to see that dream come true? Un-fucking-acceptable. Everything she’s been through is unacceptable.
“But you have more free time, now that Nell’s in school, right?” And a fiancé who should have been encouraging her to put her life back on track the second she was able.
“That’s true. And I did look into some online colleges when she started kindergarten last year, just to get the ball rolling, you know? But Julian—my fiancé…or ex-fiancé I guess, as soon as I tell him this break is permanent.” She bites her lip, staring at her bare ring finger. “He made it pretty clear he didn’t want me working. So why bother with college at all?”
“And you were okay with that?” It’s one thing if Ivy wanted to devote her time to being a mom, but if she had time she wanted to devote to herself, and that man had the resources to make it possible? He should have. End of story. That’s what partnership is about. Supporting each other.
“I’d had a few years of being brought down a peg or two by my dad. And at that point, Julian seemed like…I don’t know…a savior. He told me I could focus my energy on Nell and make sure she had the best start possible. It wasn’t until recently I realized that meant I had no freedom, no autonomy. No way to make a life that wasn’t completely dependent on him. What I haven’t decided yet if it was intentional or not. Did he break me down on purpose?”
“Does it matter if he did it on purpose or not? It was wrong either way.”
She drops her gaze and I reach across the counter to lift her chin and meet her eyes.
“I hate that you had to go through all that alone. Shit. I hate that you went through it at all, alone or not. You didn’t deserve to be treated that way.”
“I’m better for it. Stronger, you know?” Ivy straightens, giving me that stupid smile people save for useless platitudes.
She doesn’t seem better. And she certainly isn’t stronger. I start to say as much, then swallow it back with a swig of beer. Is our new relationship open to that kind of honesty?
Ivy frowns. Exhales. Shakes her head. “You know what? No. I’m not better for it. That’s the kind of stupid shit dad or Julian would want me to say. That my challenges made me stronger. That I’ve learned so much. But I’m not stronger. I’m docile and weak and I just do whatever I think will make other people happy and I’ve been miserable for years and didn’t even notice. The only thing that brings me any joy at all is that little girl up there and she’s going to grow up and leave me someday. I have no dreams. No passion. It’s just been years of feeling like I’ve let everyone down and will never be good enough and I hate feeling this way. I hate it!”
Ivy’s chin trembles and her eyes fill with emotion. She swipes a hand over her mouth like she can wipe away the truth. Like now that she’s said it, she wishes she hadn’t.
“So yeah.” She sucks in her lips. “There’s that.”
I’m furious. Ready to jump to her defense. To stand between her and the assholes who’ve made her feel like this. But the monsters aren’t in this room, so there’s nothing for me to do with the feeling. It just churns in my chest instead.
“I don’t know what to say. I want to help, but how do I save you from something that already happened?”
“It’s not your job to save me, Micah. This is something I have to do myself.” Her voice is quiet. “I should probably…” She jerks her thumb toward the stairs. “I should probably get my room set up. The cot’s still where we left it.”
I push off the counter, eager to be useful. “I’ll do it.”
“I can do it. It kind of feels good, doing things for myself.” She heads for the stairs.
“I don’t like the idea of you sleeping on that cot.”
“I’ll be fine.”
But she isn’t fine, and she hasn’t been fine and suddenly, the thought of her on that cot is as intolerable as the years she spent having someone chip away at her confidence. I promised to take care of her forever.
And I keep my promises.
“You take my bed…”
“Micah…”
I catch her wrist. She looks down at my hand, her lips parted, her chest heaving. I intended to fight her on the sleeping arrangements, but when her eyes meet mine, everything but Ivy falls away.
Her skin. Her lips. The flutter of her eyelashes. The heat of her gaze. A thousand memories of her taste, her moans, her sighs, the sting of her fingernails down my back.
I thread a hand into her hair, cupping the nape of her neck, and kiss her like she’s still mine. Like she’s still the girl I promised to love forever, while her fingers traced lazy circles along my chest.
She gasps, lips parting, chest heaving. She grips my arms, pulling me closer, then sliding her fingers into my hair. She tastes of wine, of berries, of a thousand kisses from my past, but feels so solid, so real, so out of place in my present. My tongue glides against hers, one hand cupping her head, the other sliding to the curve of her waist.
My dick throbs, needy. Hungry. I sweep her into my arms, carry her through the kitchen and into my room, kissing her, tasting her, remembering her.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Ivy
Micah’s kiss sets me on fire, igniting the love that’s hidden under anger for so long. I thought time and betrayal had devoured my feelings for him, but here they are, all these years later, waiting. Lingering. One kiss and they’re surging to the surface, back into the light where they always should have been.
He lifts me into his arms, and I feel the strength in that body. His arms like steel, so hard, yet so gentle, as if he knows how fragile I’ve become. I want to explore him. To pull his shirt over his head and trail my fingers along the hard ridges of his abs, his chest. To reacquaint myself with the person I used to know better than anyone. The one who knew the best and worst of me and loved me exactly as I was.
He deposits me on the bed like I’m something precious, then lowers himself over top of me, hands on either side of my head, body hovering over mine.
“Micah…” My hands press against his chest, and then I’m kissing him again, my reservations disappearing with each brush of his lips against mine.
He pulls back. “What, baby?”
“We shouldn’t be doing this,” I say, my breath racing through my lungs and my body rioting against my brain. “I’ve only been here one day, and things are already complicated and awkward…”
But I can’t finish the sentence because my lips find his once again. I can’t think straight. Can’t think at all. It’s just us, together again, like no time has passed and we’re still wildly in love.
Micah skims his hand under my shirt, over my belly, and cups a breast, groaning low in his throat. “I’ve missed these. They’re perfect, you know that, right? The perfect shape. The perfect weight. Your perfect little nipples.”
He pulls my bra down and pinches a taut peak, then lowers his mouth to suck and my back arches and what was I saying about things being complicated?
This isn’t complicated. This is right. The way things always should have been.
If I hadn’t listened to my dad, Micah would have been there in a heartbeat. I know it. And these last years would have been filled with him calling my breasts perfect instead of Julian complaining about the stretch marks on my belly.
That man’s name is a bucket of ice water through my veins and I freeze. Micah lifts his head. “What’s wrong, Ives? This is happening too fast, isn’t it?”
“Maybe. Probably. But…” I can’t help myself; I grab his face and pull his lips to mine because this is the first time anything’s made sense. His kiss. His touch. The erection digging into my hip. I drag my hands down his muscular back and grip his ass, rolling my hips into his, desperate for friction.
Micah returns the kiss, and there’s a moment of neither of us caring about right and wrong and good and bad, but then he growls and pulls away.
“But what?” He brushes the hair from my face, staring down at me with so much tenderness, so much passion, so much desire…
It’s been a long time since a man’s looked at me like that.
I search for the words, but he’s kissing me again, like we create our own gravity, like we’ve been fighting its pull all this time and no longer have the strength to keep fighting. My fingers brush the skin just under his shirt and I draw my nails along his back. Goose bumps flare down his spine and he presses his forehead to mine to whisper, “I’ve missed you so fucking much.”
He kisses my neck, nibbles my jaw, captures my bottom lip between his teeth, and my brain short circuits. The correct response to his statement would be that I’ve missed him too, but I spent years hating him, but now, knowing what I do, I couldn’t hate him if I tried and I…
Jesus, Ivy! Stop thinking! Just enjoy something for once!
I yank Micah’s shirt over his head. It gets stuck around his shoulders, and he sits up to finish the deal. The lights are off, thank God—I don’t think I could do this if he could see me—but the hint of muscles flexing in the low light has me biting my lip. He’s delicious and I want to run my tongue over every inch of his definitely not Photoshopped chest and abs.
Micah lifts my shirt and I brace. Julian would survey my body, looking for faults, for flaws, for extra pounds to complain about. Even sex was an opportunity to put me in my place.
I instinctively cover my stomach, but Micah moves my hands away.
“Don’t hide from me, baby. You’re fucking gorgeous.”
His lips, his teeth, his tongue. They caress me, they unlock me, they leave me shivering with want and desire and I’ve forgotten how to feel good. Sex has been a means to an end, to Julian’s end, for so long and—
I wrap my legs around Micah’s hips, he pauses, breathing heavily. “Are you sure this is what you want?”
I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life, I think, but I’m not good at knowing what I want. Not anymore. Every cell in my body cries out for him, but how do I know I’m not in the middle of another chaotic decision?
Micah sits up. “Because you just said you didn’t think we should be doing this and what you want matters to me.”
I don’t want to complicate things but being with him doesn’t feel complicated at all. It feels easy. Natural. Right.
“What if this is just a one-time thing?” I ask, bargaining with myself as much as with him. “Just to ease the tension. Get everything out of our system so we can focus on being friends. I mean, we’ll always be more than friends. You’re you, you know? But…”
“Sure. Right.” Micah’s brows furrow. “I promised myself I’d keep this professional, but I know I won’t be able to. Not with all this pent up…you know. A one-time thing is exactly what we need.”
You’re exactly what I need, I think, though that has to be my libido talking. I can’t remember the last time I’ve been this turned on.
I grip his face and pull him close, hoping my kiss will say everything my voice can’t.
Micah undoes my pants, sliding them down my hips right along with my underwear, then spreads my legs, lowering his face to me, parting my cleft to do something magical with his tongue. I groan, slapping a hand over my mouth to keep quiet—
…do you have any idea how stupid you sound? whispers Julian’s voice.
—until Micah slips his fingers inside and I gasp, pushing up on my elbows, eyes wide, desperate to see him. Those dark eyes meet mine as he sucks my clit into his mouth and that’s it. I’m done for. Starbursts and sunshine and my body is ecstasy, my cells glowing with pleasure and oh my God I hope this feeling never stops. My legs quiver. My belly trembles. I bite my lip so hard to keep from screaming and then he sits back, smiling, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
“You taste so sweet. It’s like you’re made for me.”
His erection strains against his shorts and suddenly I’m eager to return the favor. I sit up, working the belt with shaky hands. The metal clinks in the darkness as I undo the clasp, then go straight for the button on his shorts, impatient to have him inside me.
He cups my cheek. “You have no idea how much I’ve missed this face.” He kisses me. “These lips.” His fingers skate along my waist. “You have no idea how much I want you.”
“That doesn’t sound like something friends would say to each other.”
“Sure it does. Friends miss each other all the time. Besides, I’m just getting it out of my system.”
“Right. Good point.” I pull down his zipper and wrap my fingers around his velvety shaft. He’s thick and veiny and I brush my thumb across his tip.
“Fuck, Ivy.” He groans, shivering. “You’re driving me crazy here.”
And then his lips meet mine, our bodies coming together like they were made for each other. The rest of his clothes hit the floor and he reaches for a drawer on his nightstand.
“I’m on the pill,” I whisper, and he grins, positioning himself between my thighs, his tip teasing my opening as I dig my heels into his ass.
He’s big, stretching me, filling me, slipping past muscles still reeling from the first orgasm. My head lifts off the pillow as I meet his eyes, silently begging him to…to what? I don’t even know anymore. I grip his arms, his back, barely hanging on because oh my God he feels so good.
“I’ve got you, Ives. I’ve always got you,” Micah whispers, as his hips hit mine. “And fuck, you take me so well.”
I pant into the silence, hovering on the edge of pleasure and pain and then he’s moving, stroking, slipping, sliding. I bite my lip to keep from screaming, my nails raking down his back, urging him deeper. I need more of him. All of him. How did I not know sex could feel this good?
Micah moves with confidence, grasping my hips with big hands, pulling himself deeper and deeper into me and oh fuck yes this is the way it should be. This is good. This is right.
He puts his hands on my lower stomach and presses down. There’s an instant of fear, Julian would barely touch me there, but then holy fuck, what is happening? Pleasure screams through me as he thrusts forward again and again. I’m clenching and bucking and trying not to breathe because there’s no way I wouldn’t scream and moan and cry out because what kind of sorcery is this? I’ve never known pleasure like this before.
Micah growls his appreciation. “That’s it. Come for me, my beautiful girl.”
And then he’s pumping harder, faster, deeper, more until he’s buried to the hilt, quivering with his own release.
He pulls out, collapsing beside me, pulling me close, kissing my hair, my neck, my throat. “I’ve missed you so much,” he whispers. “I always knew we’d end up back here.”
I twine my fingers into his hair the way I used to before everything fell apart.
Micah snuggles even closer. His voice is gentle and his body is warm and slowly, softly, I drift off to sleep.
I wake in a tangle of bedsheets and limbs. Micah’s on his back and my head’s on his chest, his arms wrapped around me and it’s the safest I’ve felt in a long time.
Only, I belong on a cot upstairs, not in his bed. There’s already too much to explain to Nell without her waking up early and finding me down here. Besides, friends don’t sleep together. They stay in their own rooms and give high fives in the hallway. Or something like that. It’s late. I’ve barely slept. And Micah and I just did something I wasn’t aware was possible. Something that makes me feel more than a little guilty. I broke up with Julian in my heart weeks ago, but I shouldn’t have done this with Micah. Not yet. Maybe not ever.
