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Ivy makes sure the girl’s voice is heard over hers as they end on a high note.
Cheers ring out, and the two hug, before the young girl, no more than eleven, walks offstage, joining a group standing off to the right. I scan each of their faces, looking for aggression, but all seem genuinely happy for their friend and greet her with a group hug.
Ivy says goodnight to everyone, and she makes her way offstage.
Those dark eyes cast me a mere glance, before she’s barreling back to her dressing room. As much as I want to follow her, guard her door personally, I’m on sweep duty. I stay off to the side of the stage and screen the faces of fans as they leave. When the room clears, I throw on my black Ivy Morgan hoodie and join the exiting crowd. Again, I scan faces, looking for changes in temper, and move on. Everyone’s having a great night, and I make my way through the crowd quickly.
After I find my way to the back, I slip into the security room. It’s empty as the other security is out helping everyone exit. I’m technically finished for the day and clock out, using the app on my phone, but I sit back and wait.
I send my brother a text to check in while I wait.
She’ll be another hour on the nose. Taking off her clothes, getting into comfy pants and an oversized sweater. I know her routine down to the minute. With how good she is at avoiding me, it’s become a necessary skill.
The hallway outside her room is busy with crew coming and going, so I watch and make sure no one bothers her. As I’m keeping watch, Luna, Ivy’s sister shows up on the second monitor. She’s gotten past the door and backstage security, which is unfortunate.
I would never say anything to Ivy because she loves her sister, but if you ask me, the famous Luna Morgan is no good. Not for Ivy. Not even for her own fans. During her last show, she was so drunk she stumbled offstage and threw up all over three girls in the front row. It made headlines, and Ivy hired a shit ton of PR reps to clean it up. I’ve noticed she does a lot for Luna and pays for anything she needs. I’ve only known them a year, and I can see it, but I wonder if anyone has had the balls to say anything about it.
My loyalty lies completely with Ivy, so I know I’ll have to be the one to say something to her about her troublesome sister taking clear advantage of her. I’m just worried about how she’ll take it. We aren’t exactly close pals, at the moment.
Not that my Ivy hates me. Just avoids me for some reason..
Glancing at Ivyon the screen, I jump up and haul ass down the hallway. Taking the first right, I slow my roll just in time for her to turn the corner, coming directly in front of me. What a coincidence. I note that she’s alone, which leaves Luna back in her dressing room.
I smile politely at her startled expression. It almost makes me laugh that she doesn’t expect me to pop up in her day-to-day life. I work very hard to make sure our paths cross at least once a day. With her busy schedule and her ninja skills at avoiding me, it’s sometimes as much as I can work in.
After I push the button on the elevator, we turn to face the doors while we wait. Just as I suspected, she’s slipped into a big pink sweater that covers her hands and ends just above her knees, her legs covered by black leggings. Her blonde hair is pulled up in a huge messy bun that sticks out of a pink tucker hat, and her face is beautifully cleared of makeup.
Once the doors open, we both step in, and her sweet floral perfume tickles my nose. Honeysuckle. Like an open field with circus tents and pink sunrises. Everything about her makes me think of home, down to the very real feeling accelerating my heartrate right now.
The tension in the small space grows, and sweat beads on my back. I want to tell her this silence is ridiculous. That she belongs to me. In my mind, I fall to my knees and throw her legs open. Kiss her, suck her, fuck her sweet pussy with my mouth.
Give her a vocal lesson like none she’s ever had.
Instead, I stand there, staring at her reflection, begging her to look at me. Speak to me. I would worship her at the smallest invitation. My hands itch to touch her, and they twitch by my side.
Ivy seems to feel the crackle of desire as her body sways closer to mine. I’m still as stone, yet her arm slides against mine. Even through her sweater, I still feel her heat as she presses to me. It’s like balm to my ache, my constant longing for her. Standing here, it feels as if she might be missing me, too.
Our bodies beg us for more. Her chest rises higher as she begins to pant. The air is thick with want from both of us.
It’s a storm of hot air and unfulfilled desire, mixed with undeniable chemistry, and just when I think it’s going to bust…
The elevator dings, coming to a stop, and the doors open, popping our moment like a cheap balloon.
Ivy takes off first, and I follow. Phillip and John, my fellow guards, nod as we pass. I open the back door of the SUV for her then close it when she’s safe inside. I take the front seat. Phillip drives us through the town of Salem. Even at this hour, a lot folks are out having a good time. A big part of me wants to take Ivy out, take her dancing, challenge her in karaoke, even though I’ll just lose. Her smile would be totally worth it. I don’t see it very much, and I don’t know if that’s because I don’t see her enough or that she’s not smiling.
The hotel is close, and Phillip drops us off at the doors.
I offer my hand, but she doesn’t take it when she gets out. She just starts for the front doors. Looking back in the seat, I see she’s left her bag and reach for it. A card falls out.
KNK.
It’s a simple black card. I put it back in her bag and head inside.
This is how it is with us, though I still feel as if it’s a cover, a show until we get inside and she’ll talk to me as openly as she did the night we met.
But that doesn’t happen.
Was that night all a dream?
