Page 152 of What About Us

“He’s busy,” she replies. “And I’m busy too. I’ve been putting in long hours.”

“Ava—”

“Don’t start. Please. I hear it from everyone. I know it’s unconventional, and it’s not how anyone else would want to live, but I’m fine.”

She doesn’t look fine.

“Okay. If you ever want to talk, just call me.”

She pulls up in front of the drop-off doors and smiles at me.

“Thanks. Have a safe flight.”

CHAPTER FORTY

XANDER

It’s been a long fucking day, and Ivy never texted to give me an update on when she’ll be here. I kept my phone on me, even during the photoshoot, and pissed off the photographer because I kept checking it. I didn’t fucking care. Frankly, her time is up. I need to hold her, touch her, and if need be, I’ll fuck her into submission.

She’s mine.

She’s always going to be mine.

I’ve booked the flight and changed my clothes, and I’m getting ready to leave for the airport. I have my backpack ready to go and on the kitchen counter.

My car will be here in ten minutes.

I’ve just grabbed my jacket from the bedroom closet when I hear the front door open, and with a frown, I walk down the hall and feel my heart stop when I see Ivy standing in the foyer, a bag slung over her shoulder, holding Cally’s carrier.

“Meow.”

“Sorry, baby,” Ivy says and sets the bag and carrier down, opens it, and the cat comes running to me and winds through my legs, purring.

Ivy smiles at the feline, then her pretty blue eyes climb to mine again, and she sobers.

“I have a delivery of a litter pan and stuff coming in a few minutes,” she says. “I would have tried to carry litter with me, but it’s heavy.”

She’s here.

She’s fucking here.

“I know I didn’t text to give you a heads-up, but it was a last-minute decision to come tonight rather than tomorrow morning”—she swallows hard and frowns—“because I was eager to see you, and⁠—”

“Thank fuck.” I bend over to pet the cat and then eat up the space between Ivy and me with four long strides, frame her face, and kiss her like I’m a man starved.

Because I fucking am.

“Jesus, I missed you,” I murmur against her lips, and she sighs as if she’s relieved. “I’m sorry about before, baby.”

“We have a lot to talk about,” she says, but she’s not pushing me away. She’s pulling me closer, up on her tiptoes, so I grip her ass and lift her and grin against her lips when she wraps her gorgeous legs around my waist. “Can we snuggle while we talk?”

“Have you already forgotten that snuggling is our thing?” I brush my nose against hers and breathe her in. “How did you get more beautiful while you were gone?”

“You’re sweet,” she whispers, brushing her fingers through the hair at my nape.

My phone pings, and I wince. Ivy’s eyebrow lifts.

“That’s my car,” I tell her as I sit on the couch, keeping her in my lap as I pull my phone out of my pocket.