Ivy.
Neighbor just sounds... wrong.
I glance over at them in time to hear Aaron’s next words. “I should probably get back.” His voice is easy, regretful. “Lunch rush is about to start.”
Ivy nods, standing and slipping her bag over her shoulder. “Of course.”
They turn together—and walk straight toward us.
I straighten slowly, every muscle in my body going tight. Territorial. Which is absurd, because I don’t own her.
And yet—here we are.
Ivy’s gaze flicks to me as she approaches, unreadable now. Calm and composed. Like she hasn’t just spent the entire time deliberately positioning herself where I couldn’t ignore her.
Aaron stops beside the table. Ivy does too.
For a moment, none of us speaks.
Aaron looks at me openly. Curious. Assessing.
I return the look without blinking.
He’s younger. Leaner. No edge to him. No scars I can see. He hasn’t learned what it costs to hold someone’s attention too tightly—or what happens when you lose it.
Ivy feels it, too. I know she does. The air between us goes taut, stretched thin.
“This is Sebastian,” she says lightly, like she’s introducing a friend. “We live near each other.”
Near.A word I now hate.
He nods, offering a hand. “Aaron.”
I stare at it long enough that the moment turns awkward.
I don’t shake hands with men who look too comfortable standing next to her.
Marcus shifts beside me, tension clicking into place like a safety being switched off.
Aaron doesn’t pull his hand back right away. He just studies me, a slow smile curving at the corner of his mouth. “Nice to meet you,” he says anyway.
My gaze drops briefly to his hand. Then back to his eyes. “Is it?” I ask.
The smile fades just a fraction.
Ivy watches us both, utterly still.
And I realize, with sudden clarity, that this is exactly what she wanted.
And the worst part?
It worked.
19
IVY
The tension is palpable as Sebastian and Aaron stare at one another. The air feels thick, like the universe itself is holding its breath and waiting for someone to say something stupid. Or deeply embarrassing.
