Wes
I’m leaning against the bathroom door waiting for Ivy so we can go back to our table. We’ve been gone for a while, so I don’t doubt they think something is up. No one has banged on the door, so I’m guessing they decided to give us our privacy.
The woman who just tilted my world on its axis is cleaning up her makeup and smoothing her hair in the mirror. Remembering the reasons why her makeup is smudged, and hair is a mess threaten to harden my dick again.
“They’re going to know,” she mutters, then throws her paper towel in the trash can aggressively.
“They already do,” I confirm, amused by her little tantrum.
Ivy shrugs, seemingly unbothered, then holds her palm out to me, waiting. I look at her outstretched hand, and then back to her.
“Yes?”
“My underwear please,” she asks, batting her lashes with a playful smile.
I give her a mischievous smirk, cocking my head to the side and narrowing my eyes at her. “You meanmyunderwear?”
She bites her lip, grinning like a fool, but I don’t get to hear her reply because my phone starts ringing. I slide it out of my pocket, and glance down at the screen.
“It’s my mom,” I tell Ivy.
“Answer it. Is it Delilah?” she asks, almost frantically.
“She’s probably just calling to say goodnight. She always does when she sleeps over at my parents, they must have let her stay up late,” I tell her soothingly.
I slide to answer, and lift the phone to my ear. “Hey, Mom,”
“Hi. Do you happen to have Burrito in the backseat of your truck?”
I wince.
“Um, I don't know. But if she’s not with you, then probably,” I reply honestly.
Ivy’s eyes widen in horror, and she mouths “Where is she?” and “Is she okay?” while she has my forearm in a deathgrip, nails digging into my skin. I roll my lips between my teeth to suppress my smile.
“Would it be too much to ask for you to bring her?” my mom asks.
“No. Lilah can’t sleep without Burrito. I’ll run her by. Be there soon,” I reply, while looking Ivy in the eye so she understands the context of the conversation. Ivy visibly relaxes, and her shoulders droop.
“Thanks, sweetie. See you soon.”
I hang up the phone, and slide it back in my pocket.
“Delilah left Burrito in my truck. I need to bring it to her.” I really don’t want to leave Ivy right now. Not right after what we just did in this bathroom. It feels wrong to leave her behind right now. “You wanna come with me? Then we can go to my house… I can take you home later. We can get your car tomorrow?”
Ivy goes completely still, her body visibly tense after my suggestion.
“We don’t have to do anything, baby. Just hang out. Only if you want. Or we can just come back to the bar if everyone is still here. Whatever you want.” I don’t want her to think I want to bring her home just to fuck her.
She seems to brush off her tension, and leans in, wrapping her arms around my middle and resting her cheek against my sternum. I squeeze her back and rest my cheek on the top of her head.
“No, it’s okay. You go, and I’ll see you when you get back. I don’t want to leave my car here overnight. And I want to hang out with Soph a little mo– Oh my god! Your hand! I didn’t even clean you up.”
I chuckle lightly and glance down at my already bruised knuckles.
“I’m fine. I promise. You took care of me plenty,” I assure her, winking. She blushes deeper than I’ve ever seen. “I’ll be quick,” I murmur onto her lips, then give her a few chaste kisses.
I grab her hand and open the door, leading us back out into the dark hallway. I lead Ivy down the hall and back into the crowd of the bar. We weave through a few tables, and once our table comes into view, its occupants gowild.
