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Ivy lets out a soft breath. “I’m sorry. It’s none of my business. If you want to be a man-whore, go for it.”
My eyes narrow. “I think you’re confused, Miss Monroe. Just because I’m usually easygoing and have a charming streak a mile wide, doesn’t mean I sleep with every woman I flirt with.”
It suddenly occurs to me that Ivy is jealous. She must realize it, too, because she waves her hand dismissively through the air and says, “Whatever, Finn. You do you. I couldn’t care less.”
I sit back with a derisive snort, pretending to be insulted. “I think you’re making assumptions about my character and I don’t appreciate it,” I inform her and take a drink of my coffee.
Ivy’s eyes widen. “No, I’m not!” When I arch a brow, she frowns. “Okay, maybe a little. But are you denying it?”
“The only one in denial around here, sweetness, is you.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” she demands.
Okay, I’m about to go for broke. Riding on my confidence, I say, “I think you like me more than you admit.”
She snorts out a laugh. “You are so arrogant!”
“I’m confident. There’s a difference.”
Before Ivy can comment, Darcy returns with our breakfast. She sets the bowl of fruit and yogurt in front of Ivy then places my plate of waffles smothered in pecans, caramel and a dollop of homemade whipped cream down in front of me.
“Enjoy! If you need anything, just call,” Darcy says.
After she walks away, I lift my fork and dive into the gooey, sweet goodness. I notice Ivy’s eyes on my plate and try not to smirk as I make a production out of how good it tastes. “Mmm, these are the best damn waffles on the west coast.” As Ivy plucks a strawberry up, I glance over at her. “You’re really missing out.”
“That would send me straight into a sugar coma,” she states.
“One bite wouldn’t.” Cutting a corner of the waffle, I drag it through the cream and make sure it’s covered in caramel before lifting it. Then I tilt the fork in her direction. “C’mon, sweetness. One bite.”
Her face flushes and I’m not sure if it’s my words or the warm Cali sunshine that causes it. My money’s on me, though.
“Fine,” she relents and leans toward me, opening her mouth.
I straighten my arm, offering the bite of waffles, and she wraps her lips around my fork and pulls it off, chewing then moaning softly. I feel that moan all the way to my dick and try to ignore the throbbing ache down below.
“That’s…really good,” she says, licking her sticky lips.
I reach for my water and take a long drink. It doesn’t do anything to cool me off, though, and I swipe a hand over my brow. The sun is too damn hot, my jeans are too damn tight and the woman across from me is too damn beautiful. “Told you,” I force out.
“Finn…”
“Yeah?” My voice is gruff and I’m about one second from swiping everything off this table and laying Ivy’s long, slim body on top of it. I want to bury myself between her thighs.
“Sorry if I’m being difficult. I had no right to judge you, especially after you saved my ass back in New York. I’m just on edge and grumpy.”
“Maybe I deserve it. I know what I show to the world and the assumptions that are made. Normally, I don’t give a shit what anyone else thinks. But I do with you.” I’m not sure where this is coming from and I need to stop it immediately. That’s too much information for a casual breakfast and the last thing I want to do is show any vulnerability.
“More waffles?” I ask and she gives me a big, genuine smile.
“Yes, please.”
I push my plate toward the center of the table and we share the rest of it. After Darcy brings the check, I toss some money on the table to cover the bill, stand up and motion for Ivy to come with me. “C’mon,” I say. “There’s someone I want you to meet.”
Chapter Six: Ivy
Finn dodges my question about who he wants me to meet, playing coy and refusing to divulge any more information. We get back on his bike and I have no idea where we’re going as we head away from the beach. I’m still feeling a little on edge, wanting to trust him, but not yet fully there.
I suppose a little adventure with a friend never hurt anyone, right?
