There won’t be any settling after her. If there’s any of my heart left to give, I won’t be satisfied with anyone else.
“Sounds fascinating.” And I mean it. I’ve never met anyone so endlessly interesting.
“And on top of all that,” she says, and I don’t think she’s even heard me. She’s on too much of a roll. “They denied my leave for your family weekend, even though I wouldn’t get paid if they let me take it. He said they can’t ‘spare the bodies’ to give me time off. So I told him he’s going to have to exhume someone, because I quit.”
Ah. Suddenly the clinging makes sense.
She drops her head to my chest. “I should have listened to Mom and gone back to work sooner. Now I have to start all over again.”
I attempt to soothe the tension from her shoulders. It keeps surprising me, this blind spot she has for her own brilliance. It makes no sense to me.
She’s a prism of attitude and joy, and every time I’m witness to a new side of her— exhausted but obstinately pushing through it to finish her favorite show, freshly showered after a workout and bouncing on the balls of her feet because she’s too energized to sit still, anxiously reading yet another job ad while she talks herself out of being qualified for it. The deep breath she needs to take when I compliment her, her eyes falling closed, as though she needs a few seconds to steady herself against it or perhaps tuck it away carefully before it’s gone. She should be overrun with praise until it’s overflowing. If she’d let me, there’d be no room left for doubt.
“This isn’t your fault. Let me help.”
Still resting on my chest, she shakes her head. “You’ve already done so much for me; I can’t keep relying on you to swoop in and save me every time.”
Well, fuck that. “Yes, you can,” I correct her. Ivy says nothing. “And in the interest of not incurring your wrath, I need to let you know that your rent is hereby suspended until further notice.”
Her head snaps up, almost clipping me on the chin. “You can’t do that.”
It’s frustrating that she still thinks I wouldn’t do anything for her. It’s a perception I’ll be happy to dispel. “Not the reaction I was hoping for, but all right. I suppose I’m glad Hania gave me her thanks by way of a kiss.”
“Lincoln, you can’t just— wait. She kissed you?”
It’s only a slight exaggeration. More of a peck on the cheek since she was set to sell her beloved piano to cover a recent medical bill, but it’s worth the risk to see Ivy’s eyes flood with jealousy.
Fuck, I could get drunk on her alone.
“I quickly reminded her that I’m spoken for,” I say, sliding my hands along her firm thighs and enjoying the way her gaze drops to my lips. “Now, before you get mad, I should tell you it’s a building-wide policy, so that we can replace the lift.”
Which currently works perfectly fine, something Ivy knows.
“It doesn’t need replacing.”
See? No matter. Her eyes flutter when my palms reach the apex of her legs, my thumbs skirting dangerously close to her zipper. “Then we’ll fix the fire escapes,” I say. We both know I’m lying through my teeth, but it changes nothing. I’m doing this for her, and I won’t be taking no for an answer.
“Lincoln,” she warns, seeing through the ruse.
I smile widely back at her. “Or we’ll build a community garden on the roof and give everyone access. It’s up to you.” She must know that by now.
“Are you sure?”
About her? Absolutely.
The rent is an easy gesture to make. It’ll take a nice chunk out of the funds Deacon used to send me as an attempt to guilt me into leaving London, but I can’t think of a more worthy use for it. “Think of it like a belated Christmas gift. The perks of dating a posh git.”
Ivy chuckles softly, but her eyes glisten with emotion. “I don’t know what a git is, but I’m going to say you don’t quality.”
I cup her cheek. “Ask my brother. He’d be happy to disagree with you.”
Mentioning Reed is a mistake as soon as I say it, Ivy’s expression hitting the brakes and slamming right into disappointment. Shit.
“Okay,” she says, standing up. “I have to know. Why do you let him believe such horrible things about you?”
Because they’re true. Or they were once, and it’s easier to let him dismiss a lie than be rejected with the truth.
“Whatever you’re thinking is wrong,” she says with an uncanny ability to always know what I haven’t said. “I know you now, and you’re not lazy or selfish, and yet you let him talk about you like you’re…” She looks around as though searching for the word. “Like you’re Kyle.”
