“Hey, Ivy?” Abby was serious now, and she was rarely serious.
Ivy shut off the water and reached through the curtain for a towel. Wrapped it around herself, tucked it beneath her armpits.
“Yeah?”
“You know, he’s no longer your responsibility. It’s been three years since—”
“Almost three. And heismy responsibility,” Ivy said flatly, putting an abrupt end to the discussion.
Abs read the room, changed the subject.
“We’re going to have some fun tonight, Ivy—forget about all that stuff. Find you a man.”
Ivy rolled her eyes.
“That’s all I need. More trouble in my life.”
“Wow.”
Ivy pushed back on the fake eyelashes, ignoring Abby’s comment that it would help accentuate her bright blue eyes, but other than that, she let her do her thing.
Ivy knew her limits and, when it came to gussying up, they quickly approached zero.
Honestly? Not bad. Her curly hair typically tied up in a ponytail was straight now, flowing down just past her shoulders. She was wearing a mini dress. Black. Sheer. Low cut up top, came to about midthigh.
“You ready?” Abs asked, squeezing Ivy around the waist.
“Ready as I’ll ever be.”
Abs had free rein—almost—on Ivy’s outfit and makeup. She also had free rein on where they were going. But Abby knew Ivy.
No neon club for them tonight.
Instead, Abby chose a bar just outside the campus sphere. Classic Celtic decor, thick all wood bar, loud Irish music.
Ivy snagged a small standing table that two men had just abandoned while Abby fetched the drinks—martini glasses filled to the brim with a clear liquid. Lemon slices adorned the rims.
“Did you get some water?”
Abby rolled her eyes.
“You and your water.”
She signaled toward the bar, and a young man in a black t-shirt arrived with a pitcher of water. Ivy thanked him, then wet her lips with the martini only to immediately pull back as if she’d just gotten a whiff of ammonia.
“Whatisthis?”
“Martini with a twist.”
“What’s the twist? Kerosene?”
Abs laughed.
“Shut up and drink it.”
Ivy did, alternating with sips of water.
“Hey.” Abs gave her a nudge.
