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“You know I don’t really like these,” she said as they jerked to a start and lifted into the air. “You’d better not rock it.”
“I promise I won’t rock it,” Blake said. “I just thought this would be one place those guys couldn’t follow you.”
“Thanks,” she said, her hands nervously clutching the lap bar. “I’m having a hard time adjusting to them being here. In California or New York they make sense. But here, at home? It feels . . . I don’t know . . . more intrusive, somehow.”
“Do you still think of Rosewood as home? It’s been so long since you left I was beginning to think you forgot all about this place.”
Ivy turned to him, her expression serious. Something about the way her dark green eyes focused on him made him aware of every muscle in his body. He tensed in response to her intense appraisal and wondered what she was thinking.
“You know what they say,” she said with a smile. “Home is where the heart is.” She sat back against the seat and looked away. “I know I left mine here with you.”
Ivy couldn’t stop the words from coming out. They were true, and she had difficulty not saying what was on her mind sometimes, but honesty wasn’t always the best policy. What good did it do, really? Their situation was already complicated enough.
At least Blake had the good sense not to respond. She probably scared the hell out of him. They both sat back and admired the view in awkward silence. She didn’t like heights, but it was pretty. They could see the whole town sprawled around them. Ivy could even make out Blake’s family home in the distance. The faint white of the massive building stood out against the dark trees.
Leaning back, Blake stretched his arm along the back of the cart. Ivy eyeballed him with a smile curling her lips. “Are you trying one of those sneaky ‘yawn and put my arm around your shoulder’ moves?”
“Me?” he said innocently. “No, but that’s not a bad idea.” He curved his arm around her and instinctively she snuggled against his side and rested her head on his shoulder.
Things between them had changed, and quickly. She hadn’t really had much time to process it, but she knew one thing— removing the anger left just one thing simmering between them: attraction. She and Blake had always had amazing chemistry.
“You know,” Blake said after a moment, “when you came home, I was expecting you to be this huge diva. I figured you would roll into town barking demands at people with an entourage in your wake and a tiny dog in your purse. So far, the only thing you’ve demanded is pink cotton candy.”
Ivy chuckled beside him. “I’ve met the people you’re talking about, and I told myself I would never be like that. In LA, I do have an entourage of sorts. My styling crew, my manager, and my bodyguard are usually with me wherever I go, but that’s just what I need to have to work. I have never,” she said, “owned a little dog. I did consider getting a bloodhound just to freak people out, but I travel too much.”
“I’m having a hard time trying to imagine you walking down Rodeo Drive with a bloodhound on a rhinestone-studded leash. But,” he continued, “I’m glad you’re not one of those spoiled, entitled little brats. I was really surprised to find you’re still very much the same girl I . . .” His voice trailed off before he finished the sentence. “Used to know,” he added at last.
“We’ve both changed. We’ve gotten older, had more experiences, good and bad. But I think you stay who you are at the core. My mama didn’t raise me to be a prima donna, so the money and the fame didn’t change that. Frankly, if I came home acting like that, she’d slap me back down and quick.”
“You’re great with your fans, too. Very gracious.”
Ivy made it a point never to be rude to a fan. Occasionally, some would cross into creepy territory and her bodyguard, Dominick, would step in, but with the average teenage girl, all they wanted was an autograph and a selfie. It didn’t cost her anything to comply with their wishes, and she probably made fans for life in the process.
“I try to be. If they don’t buy my albums and pay to come to my shows, I’m back to the coffeehouses, you know?”
Blake laughed. “I think you’ve outgrown open mic night.”
“You never know when you can end up back there. That thing with Sterling did damage.” More damage than she’d wanted to admit. She’d put out two albums without a problem, making her feel pretty bulletproof about the whole thing. She’d been so wrong. “I feel stupid for getting involved with a guy like that.”
Blake shifted slightly in the cart as they slowed near the very top. Ivy sat up as he turned to look at her. “What about getting involved with a guy like me?”
Ivy’s heart stuttered when their cart jerked to a stop. Her eyes widened as she searched his face for a sign that he was messing with her. “What?”
“Don’t overthink it, Ivy. It’s not a proposal of marriage.” His hand caressed her cheek, his thumb gently grazing her skin. “I just want to kiss you. Would that be all right?”
Ivy looked around nervously. She wasn’t sure whether it was the height, the paparazzi, or the thought of kissing Blake that was making her heart race and her palms sweat. She wanted him to kiss her. But what would that mean? What would it lead to?
He was right, she was overthinking it. With a surge of bravery or stupidity, she leaned forward and brought her mouth into hard contact with his. Too hard, actually. He was completely unprepared for her sudden assault and her face collided with his. Their foreheads clunked together with a hollow thud just as their mouths smacked into each other.
“Ow, Jesus,” Blake said, pulling back. “I think you split my lip open.” One hand shot to his forehead and the other to his mouth. His fingertips were dotted with tiny red spots as he pulled them back to examine the damage.
Ivy could feel the blood rushing to her face with embarrassment even as her own forehead throbbed. “Oh, Blake, I am so sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking.” She leaned in and brought her thumb to his lip, inspecting the damage she’d done. He’d already stopped bleeding, it wasn’t a serious injury, but she still felt bad about hurting him.
“I know what you were thinking.”
With a smile that made him momentarily wince, Blake captured her face in his hands and moved in slowly to avoid another collision. His lips were soft but firm as they pressed against hers. Ivy leaned into him, trying to be gentle after hurting him, but he didn’t seem concerned. His thumb stroked the line of her jaw as he deepened the kiss and coaxed her mouth open.
Ivy was all too happy to comply, relishing the soft glide of his tongue along hers. He drank her in, groaning softly against her mouth as though she tasted better than the finest wine. She lost herself in the kiss, wrapping her arms around his neck to get closer to him.
