"For what it's worth, I think he cares about you. Given what Elena's told me, that's not nothing."
"But is it enough?" I asked, not really expecting an answer.
"Only you can decide that." He nodded once and headed back toward the elevator.
Inside my apartment, I locked the door and leaned against it, my phone heavy in my hand. Grayson had said Eric had asked him to pass along my number. I hadn't taken him up on it, but maybe, maybe I needed it now. Needed to reach out to him.
Not yet. I wanted to decompress before diving into that mess again.
I walked to my bedroom, peeling off my work clothes and changing into soft pajamas. The sheets still smelled faintly of Eric's cologne from this morning, a ghost of what we'd shared before everything became a complete shit-show.
What a mess. How had I found myself wrapped up in this life? Sure, I knew being by Elena's side came with risks, but this, this was a bit more than that.
Eric was a big player in his family. With an equally big target on his back.
And he wanted me, even still. A part of me felt chuffed and thrilled at being the interest of someone so powerful, but the other side knew the danger that came with it.
My phone buzzed. For a wild second, I thought it might be Eric somehow, but it was just a text from Jackson saying my car would be delivered in an hour or two.
I brushed my teeth, washed my face, went through all the mundane motions of getting ready for bed. But sleep felt impossible. My mind kept replaying the night. Eric's face when I'd confronted him in the alley, Sofia's knowing eyes, Grayson's careful consideration, Jackson's quiet wisdom.
I climbed into bed, staring at the dark screen of my phone. Maybe I needed to talk to him now. Because sleep didn't seem possible otherwise.
15
IVY
Ipulled up my messages and started typing to Sofia.
Hey. Could I get Eric's number? I don't have Grayson's contact details.
Her response came within seconds.
Of course. Hang on.
I stared at the screen, watching the three dots appear and disappear as she typed.
Here you go.
A phone number followed.
I saved it to my contacts under just his first name. Eric. Simple. Easy. Unlike everything else about this situation.
My heart thrummed like a hummingbird against my ribs. This was it. This was the moment where I chose whether to close the door completely or leave it cracked open.
My thumb hovered over the call button. What was I even going to say? Part of me wanted to throw my phone against thewall and pretend none of this happened or existed. The other part just wanted to hear his voice, to know he was real and that he cared deeply for me.
Fuck, this was a mess. Did I take the risk of something special or flee the potential danger it came with?
"I can't have just dated an accountant," I muttered. Then again, a normal life sounded boring to me.
I pressed call.
He answered before the first ring finished.
"Ivy."
Just my name, but the way he said it made my chest tight. Relief and something deeper, something raw. Like he was having the same messy emotions I was having.
