Page 16

Chapter Sixteen

Ivy

I can feel him playing with my hair.

The morning light starts to peer through the curtains. There’s a gap in them and the beam of sunlight seems to cross directly over my face. I keep my eyes closed, listening to Scott’s breathing as he gently twirls a piece of my hair around his fingers. I can’t help the sigh of satisfaction and I snuggle further into his chest.

The last two weeks have been pure bliss.

I go to work, I go to the hospital to visit Pops, then I come home. Scott is normally waiting for me by his car on the side of the road, and we cook dinner and snuggle on the couch while watching Friends reruns. Then he scoops me upstairs and gives me at least two orgasms before I fall asleep in his arms.

Katie has been texting me non-stop with questions and demands that we go for brunch so I can spill all the ‘dirty details’. Her words, not mine.

Deep down, I know that I’m terrified of bursting this blissful bubble if I tell Katie anything. So instead, I’ve been dodging her calls, and her texts, and blowing her off.

I know. I’m being a shit friend.

But the bubble! I just want to protect the bubble for as long as possible. As soon as Katie knows, she’ll make me answer all the hard questions I’ve been avoiding since Scott agreed to keep this between us and I am simply just not ready for her brand of truth bombing .

Scott’s finger trails down my arm. The sensation sends shivers along my skin. Another sigh escapes my lips as I feel him press a kiss to my forehead.

“Good morning,” he murmurs into my hair.

I blink up at him, whispering, “Hi.”

He smiles down at me, dipping down to press a kiss to my lips. I shift my knee hooking over his hip, turning into him so that our chests press together. My body relaxes on his and I bring a hand up to his chest, across his heart, and rest my chin against it. Beneath my palm, I can feel the steady thud of his heartbeat.

Contentment floods me.

I feel such a sense of peace. I wish this was how it could be all of the time.

“What time is it?” I ask in a whisper, eyes closing again.

“Just before six.”

I groan and the laugh that comes from him makes his chest vibrate beneath me.

“So early. Back to sleep.” I snuggle in deeper.

Scott’s hands move up and down my arms. He draws a path from my wrist, over my shoulder and down my back. His fingers hitch on the thin strap of my top but it relents and slips, hanging off my shoulder as his fingers blaze a trail across my skin. I can feel the pulse between my legs begin to intensify and I do my best not to squirm on top of him.

I don’t want him to stop but I can also feel sleep tugging at my eyes, coaxing me back to my dreams.

His fingers roam down my back, skim across my hips and over my lace covered ass. Scott presses his fingertips into the soft skin and I can’t take it anymore. I whimper and my hips roll, searching for any kind of friction.

Scott lets out a soft laugh, squeezing my ass again. “This helping you wake up?”

I don’t respond. I can’t respond. He keeps moving, his fingers round the curve of my thigh and trailing lightly over my center. I sigh. Without really thinking about it, my leg hitches further up his waist, allowing more room for his hand between my legs.

I angle my head, looking up at him and the same heat and desire is reflected right back at me.

“You still sleepy?” he asks, slowly stroking me. I know he can feel the wetness starting to seep through my panties. He keeps going, every third or fourth pass he presses harder and he lingers on my clit.

What a fucking tease.

I nod in response to him, letting myself roll against his hand. He starts to toy with the edges of my panties and just as I think he’s going to pull them aside and finally, finally, touch me, he stops.

I let out a whimper in protest and try to reach down, wanting to put his hand back in place. Before I can, he flips us.

Looming above me, he leans down, his nose nudging against mine before he pulls me into a sweet, loving kiss. Just as I settle into the kiss, he pulls away from that too.

Damn it.

His lips mark a hot, wet path across my cheek and down my neck. He sucks on the sensitive skin just below my pulse point before he moves on and down my neck. He reaches my chest, pulling the thin top I wore to bed down over my breasts.

He stares up at me as he takes each one in his mouth, swirling his tongue around the nipple and sucking hard on them. Heat floods me. I tangle my hands in his hair and tug.

God, that feels so good.

“Keep going, please.” I breathe out.

But again, he pulls away too soon. I whine in protest but he just smirks up at me. “You’re polite in the mornings.”

I tug on his hair. “You’re being a tease.”

He laughs and his warm breath skims over the sensitive skin of my thighs. “Oh? Do you want me to touch you, Ivy? ”

I hiss in response as he presses a gentle kiss to my clit through my panties. Squirming beneath him, I nod.

“Ah uh, let me hear you say it,” he tuts.

“Please,” I snap. “ Please touch me.” I’m a mess, fingers clutching at his hair, trying to keep his head between my legs.

The ache in my core intensifies as I feel Scott’s warm breath. He reaches up for my hips, hooking his fingers around the fabric of my panties and pulls down. Tantalizingly slow, he removes them and throws them onto the floor.

His arms wrap around my thighs and his fingers dig into my skin. He’s clutching me so tightly, there will probably be some light bruises left from his fingers and I can’t say that I’m mad about the idea.

He stares at me, eyes hooded and a lustful expression marring his smirk. “Because you said please.”

Then he dives in.

“Ah, fuck. Yes.” I cry out, teeth sinking into my bottom lip to stop from moaning again.

Scott’s wet tongue dives into my opening, licking, and searching, and playing. I grind shamelessly against his face, moaning and whimpering at every stroke of his tongue.

Fuck, it feels so good.

Heat rushes through my veins and I’m so impossibly wet. Scott pulls away, licking me from clit to opening before latching his lips around my clit again and sucking. I feel him release one of my legs and then, on another groan, he slides a finger inside of me.

I rock against him.

“Oh, don’t stop,” I gasp, hips grinding on his ever-welcoming face. “Please don’t stop.”

He laughs against my pussy, his tongue darting out to flick against my clit. He adds another finger and pumps harder.

“Oh, oh, god. ”

I can feel my orgasm building and my grinding starts to get frantic. I’m desperate to come. I’m desperate for Scott to make me come. With another suck on my clit, his mouth pops off me and he lifts his head, his fingers still pumping in and out of me in quick succession.

“I want you to come all over my face, Ivy," he rasps, and I stare down at him as he lowers his mouth to me again.

He swirls his tongues over and over. Sucking, and licking, and kissing me like he is a man starved and I am the first meal he’s had in months.

My whimpers turn back to moans, my grip on his hair tightens and my legs start to shake.

I come with his name on my lips and my hands grasping at his hair.

His grip relaxes on my thighs as he licks up my orgasm, smiling and pressing his lips gently to my center one last time.

“Feeling awake now?”

I giggle, turning my head on the pillow. “Yes.”

He crawls up my body and settles over me. “Good. Now, breakfast?”

I sit at the bench as Scott moves around the kitchen, pulling ingredients from the fridge and plates from the cupboards. He cracks five eggs into the fry pan and then adds some milk, leaning over for a wooden spoon and starts to stir. I gaze at his back, watching his muscles and sinking into my seat with a satisfied sigh.

“You good over there, baby?”

Warmth spreads over my cheeks at the nickname. He started calling me that after we got back together and it still makes me want to giggle like a teenager every time I hear him say it.

He turns off the heat, moving the pan to the heat protective mat he found in the cupboards a few days ago. He stretches up, twisting and making a face, I sit up.

“Is your back sore?” I ask, sliding off my chair.

He continues to stretch, his eyes on me as I move around to join him on the other side of the bench. When I’m close enough, he grabs at my waist and pulls me into him. Smirking he says, “A little, but nothing a good stretch can’t fix.”

“Is it because my bed isn’t built for giants like you?” I stretch up on my toes, asking for a kiss. He obliges. “We never stay at your place. That giant bed is going to waste every night.”

“I like it here. It’s …” He casts a glance at the room beyond the kitchen over my head before looking back down at me, “… homey.”

“Homey?”

“Mm, yeah. Homey.” He kisses me again, pulling me tighter against his chest. “I like your bed.”

“Well homey is giving you back problems.” I laugh as he drops his face into my neck and his hot breath starts to warm my skin.

I feel the shake of his head against my shoulder. “I like whatever bed you’re in. Now, eat,” he commands, pulling away from me and planting a light slap against my ass.

We’ve almost finished breakfast when his phone lights up, the screen coming alive with the camera and the piercing ring tone cutting through the air.

Mom shows on the screen. I immediately try get out of my seat and slip away as Scott pulls the phone closer. He shoots me a look, reaching a hand out and beckoning me back to his side.

“Hi Mom,” he answers the phone, snaking his free arm around the back of my chair.

“Hi, honey. Happy game day!” His mom beams up at him through the phone. I can see the sun only just starting to rise in the windows behind her head. Being in LA, they run a few hours behind us. A rush of longing spreads through my veins at the thought. His mother gets up early just to ensure she catches him before he heads into the stadium for a game.

“Thanks. Just finishing up breakfast.”

“Oh, that’s nice.” His mom narrows her eyes and I can see her looking at Scott’s surroundings. “Where are you? That’s not your apartment.”

“I’m at Ivy’s,” he says it so easily.

Like it’s the most normal thing in the world for him to be answering a FaceTime from his mother at my place. Suddenly, I am very aware of the fragile bubble that surrounds us. How easily it might pop. I shake the feeling away as Scott’s arm leaves the chair and drapes over my shoulders. He tilts the phone and I see the same taken aback, shocked expression mirrored in his mom’s face as my own.

“Scott Harvey, how dare you spring this on me? We’ll talk about your timing later.” The phone shakes in his mom’s hand and just moves around in excitement. “Hello there, Ivy. I’m Annabel.”

Annabel beams up at me from the phone and I have to give myself another mental shake in order to be able to reply. “Hi.” I lift my hand to give a feeble wave and I feel Scott laughing by my side.

“It’s so nice to meet you! Scott’s told us so many lovely things.” She looks over her shoulder and yells to whomever is lingering just out of frame. “Jason! Quickly, come meet Ivy.”

“Who?” The voice calls back.

“Ivy. Scott’s girlfriend!” My cheeks flush with heat and I watch myself blush a shade of deep, deep red on the screen. Goddammit.

Scott pulls the phone back a little so that he’s in the picture too. “Hi, Dad.”

An older gentleman appears, with a kind smile and even kinder eyes. “Hi son. Hello Ivy, nice to meet you.”

“Hello.” My voice is quiet and I know that everyone can hear my nerves. I clear my throat and plaster on my best smile. “Nice to meet you guys, too.”

“Are you going to be free in a few weekends time? We’re coming to town and would love to take you both out for a dinner on the—”

“I’ll let you know, Mom.” Scott cuts her off. Shame hits my gut as I realize going for dinner with his parents in the city would break our agreement to keep this thing between us quiet.

No dinners out, no public dates, no press.

I swallow the lump in my throat .

“Oh, okay.” Annabel exchanges the briefest of looks with Jason before she recovers and looks back at Scott. “Anyway honey, we’re going out on a boat today with the Palmers so I wanted to call for the pregame tradition before I get out there and have no reception.”

Scott relaxes, smiling. “The yellow ones, with the tiny hotdogs.”

“Excellent choice, son.” Jason comments.

“Oh, I loved those ones. Got them on sale at Target a few years ago. They were so cute, I couldn’t resist.” Annabel adds.

Scott’s thumb starts to trace circles on my arm. “Thanks for calling you guys. Love you.”

“Love you, sweetheart.”

“Go get them, son. Good luck.” Jason smiles and raises the coffee mug he’s holding in a ‘cheers’.

The phone goes dead and I wriggle out of Scott’s grasp, picking up my plate and making my way back around the island to the sink. Scott follows, placing in his dishes after mine. Then as if he can sense I was planning an escape, he grabs my hips and twirls me to face him.

“Sorry,” he says. “We don’t have to go out for dinner. I’ll tell them we want low key and we can have dinner at my place.”

Guilt swirls in my stomach and I struggle to take a deep breath. “It’s okay. We can—”

I go to tell him that we can go for dinner with them but the words get caught in my throat. I can’t bring myself to make that promise to him. I wish I could but in the back of my mind, I still think about the paparazzi that showed up at the hospital, or how they followed me around that week.

Scott drops his forehead to mine and tightens his arms around me. “I love waking up with you,” he says, changing the subject.

So I do my best to push the guilt away and meet his gaze. I press up on my toes and touch my lips to his jaw.

“I love waking up with you, too,” I whisper .

He sways us on the spot. No music. Him in no shirt and sweatpants, me in one of the dress shirts that has found a home in my closet over the last week. We just sway.

Somewhere, outside the bubble, his commitments call and he slowly pulls away from me.

“I gotta go to work,” he murmurs. I offer a hum in return, lifting my hands and running my fingers through his hair. “Wanna shower with me first?”

I smile, accepting the kiss he drops on my lips. “Yes, please.”

***

I do my best to focus on the three cards left in my hand. It’s harder than you think. My mind keeps wandering back to Scott and waking up with him and his tongue between my legs.

God.

I need to focus.

Pops puts down a red four and I sigh. I pick up a card and he smirks. With two cards to my now four left, I just know he’s going to win. Damn it. I’m going to have to go get him the hamburger we bet on for lunch now. So much for sticking to his diet.

An alarm blares through the room. I watch as Pops hastily reaches across to his bedside table to turn it off.

I narrow my eyes at him. “What’s that for?”

“Oh nothing.” He tries to wave me off, tapping the table with a knuckle after he throws down another red numbered card. “Uno.”

“What are you setting alarms for? Do you have someone else coming in to see you?” I ask, swiveling myself around to watch the door of the hospital room.

“Uh,” Pops sighs before grabbing the TV remote that sits next to his alarm clock. “It’s for the Broncos game this afternoon. ”

“Oh.” I tighten my grip on the cards I’m still holding, game forgotten as I watch Pops flick through the channels.

“Playoffs are a shoe-in if they keep playing the way they have been.” When he lands on the right channel, he turns up the volume. I keep my back to the TV but the commentators are speaking as clearly as ever and when they mention Scott’s name, I jolt.

Pops stares at me, my flinch not going unnoticed. “You okay?”

“Yeah. I— um, well—” I wring my hands together. I want to tell Pops about Scott. He already knows I’m seeing someone and I waved off any questions about Scott during our little … break. I put the cards in my hands down. “You remember the Scott guy I was telling you about?”

Pops eyes snap back to meet mine, the screen forgotten. He sits up. “Yes. How’s that going? You haven’t said much so I haven’t wanted to push you but I can’t lie that I haven’t been curious.”

“Curious?” I giggle. “You know, other grandfathers don’t really want to hear about their granddaughter’s boyfriend’s.”

He shrugs. “I like to gossip with the nurses. Sue me.”

“You gossip with the nurses? About me?” I can’t help the laughter that bubbles up. Pops has always been a character. Carefree, worldly, open. He always encouraged me to be open with him and Nan. That I was able to tell them whatever I wanted to tell them and they would never judge me for it. I guess that’s why now, I actually want to confide in him about Scott.

I have to keep him a secret from the rest of the world, but Pops is the one expectation I’ll make.

“The Scott I’m seeing is Scott Harvey.”

“Harvey? Scott Harvey … where have I heard—” The presenters on the TV cut him off, calling the starting lineup for the Broncos. I don’t turn around but I know enough about football to know that they are running out of the tunnels right now, screaming and cheering along with the crowd .

“You’re dating the starting quarterback for the Broncos?” Pops practically jumps out of his bed as he shouts the question at me. “You said he was tall, his name was Scott, that he was nice but you failed to mention that he was a damn football player, Ivy.”

“I—” I shake my head at him. I can’t help the stupid smile that crosses my lips when I see how excited Pops has gotten. “I didn’t know. He didn’t exactly tell me at the beginning that he was a player and I’m so far out of that world that I had no idea who he was when we met.”

“You have your head buried in the sand sometimes.” Pops is shaking his head at me, pointing to the screen. “That man is the highest paid QB on a starting roster right now. He is a machine.”

We rarely talk about sports so I’ve forgotten over time how animated and excited Pops gets whenever he watches football. Another pang of guilt hits my stomach as I think about all the time we probably could’ve gone to a game or watched on TV in the last few years but he’s avoided the sport just for me.

“I … I wouldn't know. I still haven’t really watched him play or anything.”

“What? Ivy …” Pops gives me a disapproving look.

“In my defense, I didn’t know he was a player for the first few months and he knows that I don’t like the game.”

“He does?”

“We spoke about it briefly, when you were in surgery. He came to the hospital.”

“He did?”

“Yes.”

“So that was the man the doctors said you were with.” Pops nods his head, as if putting pieces together. “Why haven’t you gone to his games? Or watched him play?”

I shoot him a look. “You know why. Besides, we’re keeping things quiet while we get to know each other. ”

“Is that smart, sweetheart?” The concerned look Pops gives me has my chest tightening.

I don’t answer. I give a noncommittal shrug and pick up my cards again. But I’ve lost Pops to the game playing on the TV at my back. From the sounds of it, they are well into the first quarter now and the offensive team from the Broncos are back on the field.

Something deep, deep inside me pressures me to turn and watch but I resist.

Separate.

I need to keep my Scott and that Scott separate.

Instead, I watch Pops as he watches the game. His eyes light up and he ooo’s and ahh’s at whatever is happening on the screen.

I hear the commentators call out a third down and Pops quietly speaks, so low that I’m not sure he realizes he’s talking out loud. “He reminds me of Matty.”

Tension races through me and I stiffen.

“He’s good,” Pops continues, his eyes following the play on the screen. “He’s really good. The way he communicates with his O-line. So in-tune with each other. For a new QB to be so aligned with them already takes some major commitment to getting to know his boys. It’s admirable.”

“Mmm,” I hum in return, pulling the cards closer and in a stack to shuffle them. I guess UNO is done for the day.

“The way he throws, how he hangs in the back of the pocket and can slow down the play when he wants. He reminds me of your dad. He used to be able to do that. He used to say that his O-line were his best assets as a player and because he trusted them so deeply, he had more control over the ball.” Pops hasn’t taken his eyes off the screen as he continues to talk. “Scott seems to have it too. Takes a lot of trust in the O-line to protect him like that.”

Tears sting at the back of my eyes and I hold back the request for Pops to stop talking about my dad because the guilt in my stomach roars to life to remind me that he was his son. Finally, I turn towards the TV and my eyes immediately land on Scott, holding the ball above his shoulder, ready to throw.

His eyes are scanning the field, they find something and he releases the ball. It sails right into the hands of the tight end standing in the end zone.

The camera’s cut back to live coverage and I realize it was a replay of the touchdown. God, I forgot how slow this game can be. The TV screen fills with Scott’s face as they focus in and the world around me quiets down as he smiles, laughing with the player next to him. Flynn Reed, the tight end that made the touchdown.

They’re laughing about something. Both sweat covered already.

Scott looks happier than I have ever seen him, truly in his element.

If I hadn’t turned around, I wouldn’t have seen it.

Pops sighs and I move to sit in the chair next to him. He reaches over, holding out his palm and I take it, wrapping my fingers around his as we settle in to watch the game.

“I miss it, you know. Nearly every day.”

“Playing or watching?” I ask, ignoring the pain in my chest.

“Both,” he whispers. “You know, I haven’t been to a game since you were about six.”

I nod, swallowing the lump in my throat. My heart hammers and I prepare myself because I know what’s coming. Ever since the conversation we had after his emergency surgery, I’ve been waiting for it.

“Will you take me to one last game, Ivy? Before I die.” I meet his gaze and tears spring to my eyes again. For the first time in a long time, I see the aged lines and the tired eyes. I see pale skin and uneven breaths. I face the facts and I nod. I agree because even though I know it will break my heart, I can’t bring myself to break my pops’ any longer.

“Sure, Pops.”