Total pages in book: 27
Estimated words: 25339 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 127(@200wpm)___ 101(@250wpm)___ 84(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 25339 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 127(@200wpm)___ 101(@250wpm)___ 84(@300wpm)
Ivy’s lips twist into a smile. She doesn’t look shocked at all. In fact, she looks proud. Like she gets it.
I slip my hand around the nape of her neck, scratching gently. “When I ran into Saxon, things changed. The Heartless Bastards took me in, gave me a life, a purpose, a family.” I pause, taking in her absolute beauty. “And I walked away from all of that…for you.”
Ivy swallows hard. Her eyes falter. “Slate…”
“And I don’t regret it, baby,” I tell her, caressing her gently. “Not one bit.”
Her eyes flick away, like she’s looking inward. The room may be dark, shadows stretched across her soft white skin, but I see the vulnerability in her eyes. She takes a breath, like she’s searching for the strength to speak. I don’t interrupt her.
After a long moment, she whispers, “My mom cheated on my dad. She gambled, ran up an impossible debt, and when I was eleven, tried to sell me to this biker gang to pay it off.”
My entire body goes rigid. The thought of another man trying to take her has me raging. What kind of mother could do something like that?
“What gang?” I growl.
Ivy shakes her head and shrugs. “I never got the full name. Something about skulls, I think.”
I sit up as a fresh dose of adrenaline shoots through me. “Tell me your dad killed them.”
She shrugs again. “I don’t know. He saved me, though. And I never saw my mom again.”
I exhale slowly, trying to calm my pulse. It makes sense now–why her dad is so overprotective. I would be too. Shit, I already am.
“Nothing like that will ever happen again,” I tell her. “I’ll kill anyone who tries to lay a finger on you.”
A small, knowing smile twists across her lips. “I know.”
I can’t believe what happens next. I wasn’t planning it at all, but the words just fall from my lips.
“I love you, Ivy.”
Her lips part softly, and her eyes widen. She wasn’t expecting that.
Neither was I.
My words hang in the air, and for just a moment, I’m convinced she’s going to grab her stuff and leave. Tell me I’m moving too fast, despite all the mischief we’ve been up to.
But she wraps her arms around my neck and pulls me on top of her like she wants me to crush her. “I love you too,” she whispers.
I press my lips against hers and kiss her slow and deep. Ivy is the triumph of my life, and I’ll spend the rest of my years protecting her. Even if my past comes back to haunt me.
7
IVY
ONE WEEK LATER…
I want to wake to kisses on my neck. To Slate’s rough hands moving down my hips and grabbing my butt. To the scrape of his five o’clock-shadow on my cheek as he brings his lips to mine.
But despite my wishes, I wake up alone in my bed at home.
We’ve been sneaking around now, stealing touches in the shadows, sharing late-night rides and whispering dirty things into each other’s ears. But now it’s finally time to stop hiding. My dad deserves to know the truth.
And today we’re going to tell him.
It’s best he hears it from us, rather than from someone else, or God forbid, walking in on us somewhere and losing his shit. And besides, Slate deserves to live in the light and not be hidden away in the darkness.
I grab my phone from the nightstand and thumb through our messages from last night. His last text reads:
Pick you up in the morning. We’ll tell him together.
My heart skips a beat, and I bite my lower lip. Yep, it’s really happening today. No doubt, no hesitation in his words. He really means it. He’s ready.
So what is this whisper in the back of my mind? This hesitation? A voice telling me that something is wrong–something I can’t see.
Maybe I’m just nervous because this thing with Slate feels too good to be true.
He’s perfect for me. It’s like he came out of nowhere just to bless my heart with an almost unbearable love.
There’s also a missed call from Dad, but it’s probably just him telling me I’m late to work. So I quickly push myself out of bed and throw on some clothes. The last thing I need is for him to be already pissed when Slate and I lay our news on him.
When I step outside, Slate is already there, sitting on his bike in a thin T-shirt that shows off his broad shoulders and muscled arms. His eyes lock on to mine instantly. Some women might find them dark, but they soften quickly as I walk up to him.
“Good morning, gorgeous.” He smiles.
We kiss. I drape myself against him. “You sure about this?”
He tilts my chin up and gives me a firm, confident look. “We talked about this, Ivy. We can’t hide our relationship. I can’t go around pretending I am not in love with you.”