It’s as clear to me as the dove tattoo on her shoulder that Ivy is yearning to take flight. Here is a woman who has grown used to reining herself in, and that, I cannot accept. The good news is I’m inclined to help her.
“If you can’t find yourself inside of work, find yourself outside of it. You wouldn’t be the first person who suffered for a paycheck. What matters is that you have free will to make the life of your choosing, so choose wisely.”
“I know that,” she huffs, then pauses, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. When she exhales, the fight leaves her, softening her posture and the crease of her mouth. “I guess I’m just feeling lost, is all.”
“Ivy, stop second guessing yourself. You’re driven, but you’re bored, because what you’ve been doing hasn’t been enough. It’s exhausting but not rewarding. And you want more. You should go for it.”
“That’s some party trick.”
I shrug. “A lucky guess,” I say, but it doesn’t look like she believes me.
When she looks at me, the longing in her brown eyes threatens to tilt my reality. “Sometimes I want to stop beingSensible Meand try someone else on for a night.”
There’s so much hope— in her eyes, in her voice— I’d be a fool to not move mountains for her.
“Sorry,” she quickly adds. “I talk a lot. I’m working on it.”
“Don’t,” I demand, ready to find and correct anyone who has ever said differently. “I enjoy listening to you.”
Perhaps it’s arrogant, but when I know what I want, I’m not easily distracted. It made me reckless in my youth, enough to make awful choices that Reed still won’t let me live down, but it also helped me rebuild my life into one I’m proud of.
“What’s that?” she asks.
I follow her gaze to the invitation. Ah.
I slide it toward her. “A disaster, most likely.”
The light in her eyes intensifies, as if I’ve said the magic word. That’s got her attention. “Tell me more.”
“I’ll do you one better. Are you free Saturday night?”
“Hmm, I’m pretty sure that’s the night I’m having an existential panic about how I’ll spend the next fifty years stuck in a career that will suck the life out of me before I get to retire. But I can probably push that to Sunday.”
I laugh. Christ, she’s a surprise. I want to spend a week doing nothing but getting to the bottom of her. Discovering what makes her tick.
Ivy picks the card up, reading the details. “A masquerade, huh?”
“My brother hosts an annual fundraiser to support the arts college. Invite only, student exhibit, with a silent auction for the pieces on display.”
Like a hound caught on a scent, she reads the invite again. “That sounds amazing. Why don’t you want to go?”
Manny cuts in, sliding two fresh drinks in front of us. “He’s being a coward.”
Sod off, I say, silently, but it works.
Ivy traces the gilded lettering with reverence, and I throw out my original intentions to go alone. “Join me. A room full of strangers, a mask; you’re free to be anyone you like.” I shift closer, trailing my fingers around the curve of her elbow. “It’ll be fun.”
Fun is a word that’s never been used to describe Reed, but for Ivy, I’ll make sure of it.
“Oh, I’m sure it would be. That’s the problem.”
She’s beautiful, from her thick eyebrows to the straight slope of her nose and pillowed lips that are currently set in a wicked pout that I’m aching to see in all manner of positions.
“What’s wrong with fun?” I ask. “It’s the bar all other experiences must live up to. Life doesn’t mean more because it hurts. Fun is as important as anything else. Don’t run from it. Chase it.” Brushing my fingers along the tail of the doves on her shoulder, I watch the goose bumps rush to her skin. “Soak in it.”
She lets out a shaky breath. Licks her lips. She’s so close to saying yes, I can taste it.
“Will you let me show you?” I ask.
