She claims me with a certainty that should bother me, given my aversion to relationships.
But for some reason, I can’t make myself get rid of her.
I take another drink, convincing myself I’ll end it soon. Lock the doors. Set boundaries. Tell her she can’t climb onto my balcony, hide in the shrubs, or rearrange my kitchen.
Tomorrow, maybe.
Tonight, I stand in my kitchen, smelling her familiar vanilla-sugar scent, listening to her hum.
She reaches into my fridge like she owns it. “I’m making chicken tonight. Your brother loves dark meat.” She glances at Drew. “Are you okay with that?”
He nods, looking defeated. Like he has no choice but to accept the insanity.
Her sleeves ride up when she grabs a pan. I smile at the butterfly bracelet on her wrist. It’s so Ivy.
She smiles at me over her shoulder, green eyes sparkling with the knowledge that she knows I’m watching. That I can’t look away.
The beautiful ones are always crazy.
I call this acceptably crazy.
She’s harmless—mostly.
Just because she once told Marcus’s date that I was a man-whore with commitment issues who would never marry or have kids doesn’t make her unhinged.
I stare at the bottom of my cup, the memory washing over me.
When Marcus returned from my bathroom and threw his arm around the woman, Ivy blushed and murmured an apology to her.
Of course, she created more issues by showing up at my house, strolling through the patio door like she owned the place. Marcus was quite surprised to see a woman standing in my living room.
I told him she was my neighbor.
He looked doubtful.
Things got worse when Marcus’s date asked if Ivy and I were serious.
“No,” I said at the same time Ivy said, “Yes—he’s just in denial.”
Marcus chuckled. His date blinked, clearly unsure which of us to believe.
I was humiliated, heat crawling up my neck.
I walked them to the door, Ivy trailing behind us like she belonged there.
“Maybe next time we can double date,” Marcus’s date said brightly.
Ivy clapped her hands and fixed the collar of my shirt like it was already decided. “That would be wonderful.”
“I look forward to it,” the woman said, beaming.
Marcus patted my shoulder. “I look forward to the upcoming engagement.”
I froze. Every muscle locked.
“Oh, Sebastian doesn’t do serious,” Ivy said easily. “Ever.”
I didn’t argue.
