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“This was…different. They’re desperate to find out who Ivy is. I had to break the speed of sound to evade them.”
“You know how they get when they scent blood in the water,” he mutters. “They won’t quit until they find out who she is.”
“So what do I do?” It’s a rhetorical question. It’s inevitable that Ivy’s name will come out. I’m really just trying to slow time at this point.
He shrugs. “Perhaps she could pull that disappearing trick again?”
“What the fuck?” I snarl. I’d almost lost my damn mind because Ivy was too scared to come out of her shell and instead disappeared every time we got close. There’s no way I’d let her go now.
“I meant maybe she should dress up,” he says. “She can hide in plain sight. I’ve never seen anyone quite so adept at camouflage.”
“She shouldn’t need to hide.” I’ve been trying to prove that to her ever since we met. I’m not going to suggest that she should fade into the background even if it would make her life easier in this instance. I want my beautiful girlfriend to take up all the room she deserves in this world. “I just don’t want to put her in Hawthorne’s path if I can possibly help it.”
“You know it’s inevitable.” He crosses his arms as we join the others. Summer and Rebel and Ro and Marty. The four of them surround the kitchen island, ensconced in conversation. Summer and Marty both have their laptops out amongst the cups and a couple half empty carafes of coffee. The hammered metal bowl of fruit has been abandoned in favor of a platter of muffins.
“The media is going to keep coming after her,” Riot says. “At some point you are going to have to make a statement.”
“That’s what has me worried,” I admit. Not the statement. Summer will handle that beautifully the moment I give her the go ahead. I scratch the bottom of my jaw with two fingers. But the media can be painful to deal with. Single-minded. Immoral in their hunt of the perfect gossip.
I’m used to being chased around town. We all are. Rebel’s Impala, Emmy, is currently at the garage because one of the photographers got too close and rear ended him a couple of weeks ago while he was on his way home from the set of the movie he’s been working on. The guy was really apologetic though.
Most of the time they just want to get paid. They’re doing a job, not being complete assholes. It’s just Ivy is a big ticket photo at the moment. If they get her alone they’ll hound her, ask her a million questions, get in her face. She’s so shy it would probably be traumatic.
“If she’s with me, she’s safe. When she’s not…” I have a truck with a roll bar and safety features jammed in. She has a car that should have been left in another century, isn’t reliable, and still has my blood on the passenger seat. Plus, it’s the most stand out shade of orange ever. “For one thing, I’m going to upgrade her ride.”
He pulls his cheeks between his teeth and squints.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“You don’t make that face unless it’s something.”
“I don’t know her,” he says. “So it’s not my place to say anything. But I overheard you talking in the pool the night you introduced her. She doesn’t sound like the kind of person who will appreciate that.”
“I don’t fucking care.” I upset her by offering to pay her tuition. She was adamant she wouldn’t take any money from me, that she needed to confront her mom on her own terms. But this is different. It’s her safety we’re talking about. Her privacy. “She’s my girl, and I won’t take no for an answer. She’ll understand when I explain it to her.”
Ivy said she wanted to meet her friend for a coffee, so I’ll go to the dealership when I’m done here. Get the ball rolling on her new ride.
“Good luck,” he says before he stalks across the kitchen and scoops up a muffin. He breaks off a bite and tosses it between his teeth before smiling and clutching at his chest. “Blueberry and protein? Little, damn, I love you, girl.”
“If you really loved me, you’d stop calling me Little,” Summer replies, her voice dripping with sugar that does not hide her sarcasm.
It’s part of what I adore the most about our Summer Heart. She’s the sweetest girl, but she’s strong and loyal and she takes no shit. Maybe Hawthorne should come after her. I have a feeling she’d end him if he tried. Probably stab him in the eye with one of those stilettos she wears when she goes to the office. Heaven knows how she wears them; she has this habit of falling down far too often for it not to be risky.
“There you are,” Summer says as I slide into the room. She picks up a carafe and pours the bitter substance into a cup with a smile. “Muffin?”
“Yep.” I pat my belly.
“Bacon and maple? Blueberry? Or chocolate chip?”
“Bacon and maple.” I take the muffin she offers and drop onto one of the stools across the counter from Ro and Marty.
I sip my coffee as Riot joins me. Summer remains standing. Rebel joins her, wrapping his arms around the cute, little redhead.
His deep blue gaze stares into mine.Play nice. This is important.
Yeah, yeah, whatever.I break focus to tune into what’s happening opposite me. Marty taps away on her keyboard. Her phone sits beside it, set to record every word we say. I order myself not to accidentally slip up and mention Ivy.
