Ivy rolled her eyes, like she always did when he asked. She’d turned him down every time he asked. They both knew her answer would never change.
And why not?Her brain demanded out of nowhere. She hadn’t ever considered him seriously, but now that the thought had been planted, she couldn’t ignore it. Sean clearly didn’t want anything to do with her fuck friends scheme, whereas, as far as she could tell, Greg only did the fuck friends thing.
Despite his annoying playboy ways, he’d always been decent to her. Greg wasn’t a bad guy. A little lost maybe, definitely a whole lot horny. But not bad. Maybe one day the right woman would set him on the straight and narrow.
She was definitely not that woman, but then again, she didn’t want him on the straight and narrow. She wanted him in her bed, helping her erase her bad memories.
To say he was sexually experienced would be an understatement. He’d show her all she needed to know—and then some. He’d be gentle and kind. He’d respect her boundaries.
She could trust a man like Greg in the bedroom. Her gut told her so. And she’d bet her last dollar that he’d make it good too.
So why not Greg? Maybe it was time to accept his offer.
Turning so Greg’s arm around her shoulders moved with her, drawing her in so they probably appeared like they were in an embrace, she looked up and met his laughing blue eyes.
“How about Friday?” she asked casually, enjoying the way his carefree face morphed into nearly comical shock.
“Are you fucking with me, Ivy?” A frown marred his handsome features.
She almost laughed. Oh, if he only knew.
“I don’t fuck with anybody.”Literally.That was the point of this entire escapade.
He watched her for another couple of seconds, most likely trying to use his shit-o-meter to gauge how serious she was. His shit-o-meter must have registered low, because a goofy grin split his face and his eyes resumed their flirtatious sparkle. Ivy wished those eyes could move her, that his smile could cause a tingle in her belly, but they didn’t. The most she could muster was an appreciation for his friendly nature.
It would have to do. He’d be as good a teacher as any.
Was it a foolproof plan? Absolutely not. Maybe it was the worst idea she’d had yet, but she’d reached the end of her rope and she needed to try something different. Anything to make this gnawing, aching feeling in her soul go away.
After three years of living like this, she’d finally hit her wall. She was emotionally drained. Tired of living with the memories of violent, alcohol induced brute strength and pain. Tired of feeling like that’s all she’d ever equate sex with.
Therapy had helped her overcome her initial fears and trauma—in finding a way to get out of bed in the morning without hating or blaming herself. After she’d moved to Portland and started her PT clinic, she realized that maybe she didn’t want her sex life to end. That maybe she wanted to replace the ugly memories with new ones. Ones that led to sexual satisfaction instead of sexual disgust.
She understood that healing was not a linear process. Her counselor had hammered that one home. There was no checklist to follow that would cure her trauma, no set date where she had to be ‘over it.’ But if she wanted to move forward, she would need to try. And Greg, well, he wasn’t her first choice, but he wasn’t a bad choice either.
Embracing her utopian fantasy where she had a shot at a normal sex life, Ivy let herself fall into the moment with Greg, appreciating the warm weight of his arm around her, the brilliant white of his teeth, and the fall of his golden hair across his brow. She tried to work up a sense of anticipation. Really, she tried, but she couldn’t ignore the incessant tugging sensation that distracted her heart and mind. It was like an invisible string connected her brain to her soul’s desire, pulling her attention to the man who’d built this gym from nothing, like he called to her without using words.
Sean stood in the corner of the ring closest to her, muscles tensed, fists clenched at his sides, eyes thin slits as he watched her. Powerful. Dangerous. And for some highly inexplicable reason, that filled her with satisfaction. He wasn’t totally unaffected, and it soothed the wound that his rejection had caused.
Greg seemed oblivious to the giant in the ring who looked ready to jump over the ropes and rip his throat out. He chuckled amiably, rubbing his hand up and down her arm, drawing her closer. Ivy could swear she heard a low, murderous growl come from the ring.
“Guess my patience paid off, huh?” Greg’s fingers played with the ends of her short ponytail.
She shrugged. “I’m going through a dry spell. Need to break the cycle before I shrivel up for good.” She didn’t want him thinking she desired anything more than a quick fix that might turn into something longer.
Greg laughed. “Trust me babe, with me, you’ll be anything but dry.”
“Ew.” Ivy curled her lip. “Don’t make me regret this decision, please.”
Greg shrugged. “I appreciate a woman who knows what she wants and says it, but I’ve got manners. I’ll wine and dine you first. What time shall I pick you up at your place?”
The invisible thread in her brain tugged violently. This time, she refused to look at Sean. “Seven.”
Greg nodded. “I’ll be there.” He flashed her another smile, one that had likely dropped many a panty, and moved toward the punching bags.
Ivy inhaled a deep breath. That wasn’t so bad. Except the thread in her brain was now yanking so hard it was starting to cause a headache.
“Um, Ivy,” Erica’s voice came near her ear.
