“What’s the other part?” It was pushy of him, and he wouldn’t be surprised if she refused to answer.
“Most of my friends”—she put air quotes around the wordfriends—“are more acquaintances or business associates or employees. I work. I eat. I sleep. I go to church on Sunday. Repeat.” She fiddled with the hem of her sweater. “I’ll go with you to speak to the police, but you don’t have to stay. It’s late and it’s a Friday night. I’m sure you had plans for this evening and they’re already ruined. You’ve already done too much. I’ll Uber to a hotel when I’m done.”
Gil fought the urge to roll his eyes. Yep. Still his Ivy. Still stubborn as a mule.
“If you think I’m leaving you alone in a police station, you aren’t nearly as smart as everyone thinks you are, Dr. Collins. And when you’re done, I’m taking you home with me.”
HE WAS TAKINGher home with him? Had he lost his mind?
Gil wasn’t done talking. “I called Emily. She’ll be at the house by the time we’re done.”
Ivy closed her eyes and took in a slow breath. Images from their tangled past collided with their current status, and the resulting picture was murky and confusing.
Until she was sixteen years old, Gil had been her person. Her other half. Ivy had missed Gil most. His sister, Emily, had been such a girly-girl. Into Barbie dolls, nail polish, and clothes. And boys. Even in elementary school, Emily Dixon had been boy crazy. Ivy had hated Barbie dolls and nail polish, and she’d worn whatever her mom managed to find. And there was only one boy Ivy had ever had any interest in and that was Gil.
But that didn’t mean she hadn’t missed Emily. Gil and Emily were close as kids, and because Ivy spent a lot of time with Gil, she also spent a lot of time with Emily. When Ivy spent the nightwith the Dixons, which was often because her mom worked third shift a lot, it was Emily’s room she crashed in. Emily would give her the top bunk because she knew how much Ivy preferred it. After the lights were out, Emily would talk until Ivy fell asleep. And despite having almost nothing in common other than Gil, they, too, had become close.
Ivy’s insides melted a little at the knowledge that Gil and Emily were still tight as adults. Close enough for him to call Emily tonight, and for her to drop everything and come.
Gil’s offer felt more like a command than a request, but she couldn’t stay with him. But not because she didn’t trust him. Because despite the fact that she didn’t know this man standing in front of her, shedidknow him. And it wasn’t that she didn’t want to be with him, to hear him talk, to catch up on every detail of his life. She’d missed him with an ache that had been intense for years, and while it had dulled some, it had never gone away.
But staying at his house? No. She knew, even years later, that Gil would be a gentleman. He would give her a bed to sleep in. And even though she could see the questions burning behind his eyes, he would give her space. But she couldn’t accept his hospitality. Not after what happened, and how she reacted, and what she did. There was too much between them. She’d been a coward for far too long. Gil and Emily deserved an apology and as much of an explanation as she could give them about something she still didn’t fully understand herself. But she didn’t have it in her to face them. Not tonight.
Gil took a step in her direction. “I’m sorry. I promise I’m not usually so presumptuous. But ... it’s you.” His voice cracked on the last word. “I won’t lie or pretend that I don’t have a million questions. But tonight isn’t the time for them. Tonight you need to sleep. You need to feel safe. And if you insist on going to a hotel,I won’t stop you. But if you go to a hotel, I’ll spend the night in the hallway.”
What? No. “I can’t let you do that.”
“You can’t stop me.”
They stared at each other. “Why are you doing this?”
“I told you. It’s you.”
“That’s not an answer.”
Gil ran a hand through his hair. “Did you miss me?” The words sounded like they’d been ripped out of him, not like he’d chosen to say them.
In the face of his raw vulnerability, the truth spilled out before she could stop it. “Every day.”
Something that looked like pain mixed with relief flashed in his eyes. “I’ve missed you too. Now you’re here. That’s why.”
He’d missed her? He should have hated her. But before she could think through any more, he must have decided the discussion was over, because he changed the subject. “More about that later. Right now, tell me what you need. Food?”
In response, Ivy’s stomach grumbled. “Food would be good.” Maybe after she ate something her brain would stop short-circuiting every time Gil looked at her and she’d be able to formulate an argument he couldn’t work around. She scanned the room to be sure she wasn’t leaving anything behind.
Gil leaned against the wall. “Food first. Police second. Emily third.”
As Gil’s pronouncement settled, her entire body tensed. She tried to hide her reaction by turning to the small table where the nurse had left her paperwork.
While talking to Gil, she’d forgotten that her shoulder was burning, her fingers were throbbing, and pain was pulsing through her thumb approximately seventy times per minute.
For a few precious moments, she’d blocked out the specter of danger hovering over them. And she still didn’t know why Gil or, more specifically, the US Secret Service had paid her a visit. Not that she was complaining. She’d been doing her best to keep up a brave front, but she’d never, ever been as afraid as she’d been today.
And she still didn’t know why anyone would want to access her computers enough to attack her. She should ask Gil why he’d been the one coming through her door, but depending on his answer, she might fall apart, and she couldn’t do that. Not now.
She struggled to keep her voice light. “Okay.” One word. That’s all she said, and she thought she’d done a pretty good job of keeping her terror out of it. But as soon as the word left her mouth, Gil’s footsteps approached, and he squeezed her left elbow. She kept her back to him. She needed a few more seconds to pull it together.
“Buttercup?”
