Page 117 of The Devil of Downtown

“What, you mean as opposed to the rest of my family?”

I look up, and right on cue, Mitzy is watching us, eyes full of venom. I flash her my bestfuck-yousmile, turning my attention back to Ivy.

Her cheek grazes my jaw as she shifts closer, the faintest brush of skin that sends heat straight down my spine.

“You doing okay?” I murmur, my lips near her temple, close enough that I feel her breath catch.

“Surviving,” she says, voice soft but threaded with humor.

“Hope it’s not too bad tonight. My father and Mitzy have a talent for ruining a room,” I say quietly.

Her mouth curves in a sly grin. “Mitzy seemsnice.”

My gaze catches Mitzy’s again, and she is still watching us, expression murderous.

I let out a dry laugh, holding Ivy a fraction tighter. “She’s not,” I say, low. “At all.”

Mitzy’s stare still burns between my shoulder blades, but I don’t look her way again. I’ve wasted enough of tonight on people who don’t matter. Julian was right—bringing Ivy wasn’t a mistake. Pretending she didn’t matter would’ve been. Because fuck Dad, fuck Mitzy, fuck whatever was holding me back. The noose that was around my neck feels lifted.

Ivy’s blue eyes shine up at me, and the room fades around her. All I can feel is her body pressed to mine, her pulse matching my rhythm. My thumb draws lazy circles at the base of her spine.

She moves beautifully. Effortlessly.

And God, she feels good—too good—every shift of her hips brushing my thigh, every breath skating my throat. The slow tempo forces us closer until all I can think about is getting her home.

Her fingers graze the side of my neck, and just that one touch is almost too much.

We sway, slow and hungry, the space between us disappearing until her forehead rests briefly against my cheek. Her perfume, soft and warm, curls right around my nerves.

Her voice is barely a whisper. “You... okay?”

Not even close.

I dip my head, lips brushing the shell of her ear—light, not quite a kiss but close enough to feel her entire body react.

“Let’s leave soon,” I murmur.

I press a soft kiss to her forehead before guiding her back toward the table. We must take only two steps before Charlotte intercepts us, pressing a phone into Ivy’s hand.

“It keeps ringing,” she says. “Over and over. It must be important.”

Ivy looks at the screen and turns to me. “I’ll just take this call. It’s Jennie.”

“Sure.” My eyes follow her as she crosses to the far side of the room. She lifts the phone to her ear, shoulders tightening almost instantly. Her free hand rises to her mouth, thumb brushing her lower lip—her biggest tell.

And whatever’s in her eyes freezes my pulse cold.

The universe’s way of telling me I don’t deserve this.

Chapter twenty-six

Ivy

“Hey, Jennie. Everything okay?”

There’s a long, heavy silence on the other end, long enough that my stomach sinks before she even speaks.

“You need to leave. Now.”