“Ivy Lee,” Dean said, grinning like a fool. “He calls her Ivy Lee.”
“Christ.” I scrubbed my hand over my face. “It’s not like that, okay? We’re reconnecting.”
“Yeah, but dude, you’ve never taken a girl out to dinner wearing that before.” Dean jutted his chin toward my outfit. “Luca, back me up here.”
Great. Cool. This was a weird house chat in my small-ass bedroom. Loved this for me. Luca’s loud footsteps grew closer to my room, and he grunted as a greeting.
“Lo, get off his bed.”
“Hi to you too.” She winked at him. “Have you seen Callum dress up like this before? He’s taking Ivy somewhere.”
Luca closed his eyes and shook his head. “No. He’s down bad for Ivy, we all know this. Now, Lo, get your ass in my room.”
“Say please.”
Luca snorted. “Please.”
“Such a good boy.”
“Fuck off with this.” Dean cringed and hit my doorframe. “I’m ready when you are, Mack, but feel free to torment Callum more before we go run.”
“Love your support.”
Lo patted my arm, her face warm. “Hey, have a nice time tonight. You know we love you, right? We’re enjoying seeing you care for someone like this.”
“Yeah, if you’re actually upset, we’ll stop. But this is sort of payback…” Mack gave me a half-hug before walking out with Lo.
That left me alone.
I wasn’t upset. Confused, yes. Anxious, also yes. They were wrong. I wasn’t fucking smitten. That was a feeling for crushes, like Mack secretly being in love with Dean for three years before finally doing something about it. To be fair, my quarterback got his head out of his ass and treated her as she deserved. But smitten?
No.
With one more look at myself in the mirror (because I liked looking good for me, not for Ivy, okay?) I nodded.
As I made the short drive to her place, I tried to recall the last time she and I were outto dinner. Graduation? Yeah. That must’ve been it. We’d walked across that stage together and celebrated with our families. That was the last huge party and happy times before my dad’s affair came to light. Ivy’s parents didn’t do anything big at all. They gave her a gift card to Nike and bought a cake.
That wouldn’t do for me, so I’d taken her to a steakhouse, and we splurged on everything. Bought four desserts, four appetizers, and a steak. We were there for three hours, and it was such a highlight of that summer.
I kinda blocked it out after our fight, but I smiled as I pulled outside her building. Putting on the hazards, I ran inside and up the stairs and knocked on her door.
Someone opened it, and it wasn’t Ivy.
Esme.
“You must be the best friend,” I said, grinning.
“You must be the former best friend,” she fired back, an unkind look on her face.
“I like you.” I gestured toward her living room. “Can I come in?”
“Ivy will be out in a minute.” She pursed her lips, her gaze moving up and down me. “You’re too pretty to play football.”
“Excuse me?” My lips quirked.
“You heard me. I don’t trust you.” She crossed her arms.
“Esmerelda, stop it.” Ivy walked out, her cheeks a little pink as she stood in front of both of us.
