God, she exasperates me. “Of course I didn’t.”
“Seems like you did.”
“Are we really going to go round and round about this?” I wipe my hands with a napkin, wad it up and throw it on my plate. “You hardly ate.”
She shrugs. “I wasn’t that hungry.”
“So your growling stomach lied? I ordered all of your favorite foods.” She used to gorge herself on junk when she was a teen. We all did. Hell, I still do. I also work out like crazy, so I can afford the occasional indulgence.
A sigh escapes her. “I haven’t eaten this type of food in years.”
“You used to.”
“Back when I was a teenager and didn’t need to watch everything I eat,” she retorts, irritation flaring in her eyes.
I let my gaze slide over her. Damn, she’s hot. With a killer bod and curves in all the right places. Places I wish I could explore again with my hands. Or even better, explore with my mouth. “One night isn’t going to kill you, Ivy.” I’m trying to tempt her, since all she has to do is sit there. I’m beyond tempted to jump her and show her how much I need her.
But not yet. I have to be patient, even if it kills me.
“I’ll have to run extra hard if I bother eating one of those mozzarella sticks.” She eyes the plate I specifically ordered for her, her tongue darting out to lick her upper lip. They’d been a weakness in her past.
“You run?”
“On a treadmill. At the gym.” She shrugs.
“Come on, live a little.” I push the plate toward her.
“Are you going to taunt me like this the entire two weeks we’re together?” She arches a brow and I smile at her in answer.
I don’t want her scared of me. Or worse, angry.
She plucks the mozzarella stick from her plate, dunks it in ranch dressing and takes a huge bite. Watching her eat pleases me for some weird reason. Pleases me even more that she spoke about our being together in a positive light.
“You deserve to cut loose and have a little fun every once in a while, you know. All work and no play makes Ivy a dull girl.”
Ivy glares at me. Damn, she’s pretty when she’s angry. “Life isn’t all fun and games.” She takes another bite of the cheese stick, a little moan escaping her as she chews.
The sound sends a swift bolt of lust straight to my groin. “Isn’t that the damn truth,” I mutter.
“You certainly make it look that way though. Always out with two or three women hanging off your arm, drinking and having fun out at clubs all over town,” she points out.
Hell, she thinks I’m a complete jackass. Especially with the way I’ve ignored her since we were last together. If she only knew the truth. How difficult that had been, how much she scared me. How much she still scares me. “You really think all I’ve done is f**k around and spend my family’s money these last few years?”
“Of course not.” She pops the last of the mozzarella stick into her mouth, chews and then swallows. “Gage has told me how hard you work.”
“And maybe you need to learn how to let loose more and have a good time,” I return. Here we go, returning to our standard argumentative selves. I swear it’s like foreplay between us. It masks all that sexual tension that’s constantly brewing whenever we’re together.
“I know how to let loose.” Her voice is defensive.
“Then prove it.” I am practically daring her. She’s always worried over what everyone thought of her, ever since I’ve known her. Cultivating a certain image, not allowing anyone too close for fear they might see the real Ivy.
Not that there’s anything wrong with the real Ivy. In my eyes, she’s damn near the perfect woman.
“How can I prove it to you?”
I can’t answer her for fear I’ll say something so incredibly stupid, I’ll f**k it all up.
I can’t chance it. Too risky.
“Can I be honest?” she asks suddenly, shocking me from my thoughts.
“Please. By all means.”
She watches me, her gaze direct, her expression serious, and I want to squirm. “You scare me.”
Great. The feeling’s mutual. “I won’t do anything you don’t want me to.”
“That’s not what I’m scared of.” She exhales loudly. “Just being in your presence is like going on an exhilarating roller coaster ride, and I’m constantly terrified I might fall off and plunge to my death at any moment.”
“Well. That sounds . . .”
“Pretty scary, right?” She smiles, though it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “I want to help you, Archer. I really do.”
“Then quit waffling,” I say vehemently. Fuck, I swear I’m losing her. She’s slipping right out of my grasp like tiny granules of sand, and I can’t do anything to stop it from happening.
“I’ve already agreed to help you. I don’t have a choice but to agree, what with the way you handled this.” She pauses, her tongue sneaking out to wet her lips. My heart lurches at the sight of her pretty pink tongue. “I’ll help you, if you help me.”
Relief floods me, leaving me weak. “Anything. I’ll do anything you want. Name it and it’s yours.”
Ivy jerks her gaze from mine and bends her head, studying the table. “When we were . . . together last time. The night of Jeff and Cecily’s wedding. It was good between us. Right?”