He just had to go and touch me like that, get me all riled, then move on like it was nothing. Not only that, but he dismissed my ass right off his stupidly beautiful porch when I tried to talk about it.
The fucking audacity.
Like the last seventeen times I’ve had this discussion with myself over the weekend, I tell myself to let it go. Move on. It was a strange glitch in the matrix that does not need to be observed any further. He offered me the job, but isn’t my biggest fan, and I need to remember that.
I told Sophie I didn’t think it was a good idea to join them at the water park, and that I didn’t want to cross any lines that Wes may have. It was only my first week. As much as I wanted to go and see Delilah—I missed her like crazy—I knew it was best if I kept my distance.
My decision seemed to be the right choice, considering I started writing a little bit. I’ve always loved reading and writing. Back in high school and college I wrote quite a few short stories and some fanfiction. MainlyTwilightfanfiction where Bella ends up with Carlisle.
This weekend, I wrote down a few thoughts and ideas, and decided it would be fun to try and write what I love reading—romance novels. More specifically,paranormalromance novels.
Wes giving me this job, is allowing me to do the thing I love for the first time in a long time, and I’m incredibly grateful. I’m actually giddy from the thought of being able to focus on my writing. My mind hasalready gone off the deep end with all things that could come from this.
“Eighteen, nineteen, twenty! Ready or not, here I come!” I hear Delilah yell.
I have to hold my hand over my mouth to stop from actually giggling. I’m currently squished in a kitchen cupboard. My knees are crowded against my chest, and my feet are crammed against my ass. I’m trying to breathe as quietly as possible so Delilah doesn’t hear me.
She is shockingly good at hide-and-seek. You’d think I could just have to hop behind the sofa, or behind a bedroom door, but no. She looks everywhere, and always finds me way too fast. So I’ve had to get creative.
My phone's text chime sounds, echoing through the cabinet. Silence follows, as I hold my breath, praying the tiny seeking terrorist didn’t hear it. To my dismay, the cabinet door flies open, and I feel a gust of fresh, cool oxygen.
“Gotcha!” Delilah roars triumphantly.
Damn. That was a good hiding place.
“Dang it. You’re too good at this game.” I sigh in defeat as I awkwardly fall out of the cupboard and onto the hardwood with a groan. I’m not as nimble as I once was.
She cackles maniacally and runs around the house screaming about how she’s the winner. I’ve created a monster.
I pull my phone out to see the text that gave me away. It’s a text from the last person I expected. Wesley. We exchanged numbers after he gave me the job on atrial basis, but neither of us have used them. Until now. A hoard of wings takes flight in my stomach as I tap the screen to view his message.
Wesley:Hey Ivy, it’s Wes. Family dinner is at 5:30 p.m. up at my parents’ place. They would love it if you could come, if you’re not busy.
His parents would love it if I came to dinner. Not him. Okay, that’s fine. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised.
Another text comes through.
Wesley:Also, I’d like to talk to you about something.
“My turn to hide, Iby. Count to one hundred, okay? Ready set go!”
I’m not even given a chance to respond before she runs away, her voice getting more distant as she shouts to me.
“One, two, three, four…” I yell back to her as I refocus my attention back to the conversation with her dad.
Ivy:Dinner sounds great, no plans here.
Ivy:Also, Ok. That doesn’t sound scary at all.
Wesley:Great. And nothing scary, just a favor to ask.
Ivy:I love to give favors.
Oh my god.
Ivy:Woah, not like that. I just meant yes I’ll do you a favor.
Ivy:A professional favor of course.
