When her gaze lands on me, her cheeks redden. I’m guessing she’s remembering what we did last night. “What time is it?”
“Almost eleven.”
“Eleven? That late?” Her voice, raspy and low, is so damn sexy.
Let’s see if I can make her blush again. “Must’ve been all the awesome sex we had last night.”
Yep. It worked. Two bright spots of color appear on her cheeks. She’s trying not to smile, but she’s not doing a very good job. “Do you see my T-shirt?”
I look around but don’t see it. I grab one of my old PSU football jerseys and hand it to her instead. “It’s clean.”
“Thanks.” She pulls it over her head and gets up. It hangs to mid-thigh as she walks across the hardwood floor toward the bathroom.
“Don’t be in there too long or the food will get cold.”
“I’ll be out in a sec.”
When she comes out a few minutes later, her hair is piled into a messy bun on top of her head. Even without a stitch of makeup, she’s beautiful.
She tugs the hem of my jersey as she crosses the room. “So you played football?”
“Yeah, my freshman year.”
She sits next to me on the bed, and I hand her a plate. “So why aren’t you still on the team?”
“I was a decent player in high school, but college turned out to be totally different. They wanted me to stay on the practice squad, but I decided it wasn’t worth sacrificing my grades for.”
“Is that when you started working for the campus radio station?”
“Yeah. I’ve always loved music, so it was a good fit.”
She nods thoughtfully, then takes a bite. “Um, these are even better than the Waffle Stop. You made them? They don’t look like they’re from the freezer.”
“Waffles of Insane Greatness.”
She laughs. “What?”
“That’s the name of the recipe. Got it from one of my mom’s old boyfriends, who found it online. That’s about the only thing he was good for, too.”
She takes another bite. “So, have you heard if they’ve caught the guy who attacked Maddy?”
“Not yet. When I was downstairs, I called the radio station to see if they had any news. So far, the police don’t have any leads.”
“I should probably let Cassidy know what’s going on before she hears it from someone else.” She sets down her plate, grabs her phone from the nightstand, and types out a text. “As soon as she sees this, she’ll probably—” The phone vibrates. “—call.”
Ivy answers and proceeds to tell her roommate what happened in the dorm. At something Cassidy says, Ivy’s gaze flickers to mine. She turns away slightly, but not before I see her cheeks redden again. “Um, Jon’s.” She pauses, bites the inside of her lip. “Yes.” Another pause. Then a little laugh. “Good.” She picks at a loose thread on my football jersey. “I know. Okay, I will.” And then finally, “Talk to you later. I’ll call you if I hear anything.”
“What did she say?” I ask after she hangs up.
“She’s freaked out, of course. But she’s happy I’m here with you.”
“She is?” Guilt gnaws at my stomach. I failed to return Ivy’s calls and texts until she stopped trying to get in touch with me. If that’s not the definition of an asshole, I don’t know what is. “I’ve acted pretty shitty these past few weeks. I just want you to know that it’s not you or anything you did, it’s—”
“Jon, please. I don’t want to hear it. What’s done is done. Can we just pretend it didn’t happen? At least for a few more hours? I’m liking the way things are right now.”
Maybe she’s willing to pretend it didn’t happen, but I can’t.
“I should’ve called or texted. It’s just that…I was scared things were moving too fast. And I’m not—you’d be—” I notice something gray and fuzzy sticking out of her pillowcase. “What’s that?”
She glances down and quickly shoves it back inside. “Nothing.”
“Looks like something to me. What is it?”
She’s chewing on her lip again. “I’d really rather not say.”
“Why not?”
“Because you’ll laugh. Or it’ll tick you off.”
That doesn’t make sense. Maybe it’s funny, but why would it make me angry? “I highly doubt it. Come on. Show me. I promise I won’t laugh. Well, I might laugh, but I won’t be mad.”
Sheepishly, she reaches into the pillowcase and pulls out a ratty stuffed animal that has clearly seen better days.
“Did that used to be a…bear?”
She shakes her head. “A lemur.”
“That’s a lemur?”
“Yes. Without any stuffing, it’s hard to tell what he is.”
“I can see that.” I study her face. “Why would you think it would piss me off? I mean, I think it’s cute that you still sleep with a stuffed animal.”
“You do?” Her eyes widen.
“Of course.” Moving the plates aside, I grab her around the waist and pull her close. She smells like soap, toothpaste, and maple syrup. “Why in the hell would that make me mad?”
She shrugs. “I just knew someone once who was irritated by it. Said it was stupid and childish. So I got into the habit of stuffing it inside my pillowcase whenever he was around.”
He? “And that’s why you stuffed it in there now, because you thought I’d react the same way.” The air around us suddenly grows quiet. Who in her life would care if she slept with a stuffed animal or not? And then it occurs to me that I know exactly who, even if I don’t know his name. “Is this the same person who hurt you?”
Her eyes flash up to mine. She looks wary. “Hurt? What do you mean?”
“I can tell something has happened to you. Sometimes you get panicky, like you’re expecting a certain reaction from me.”
“I do?”
“Yes. Especially when you feel trapped.”
She blinks rapidly, refusing to meet my gaze.
“Ivy, talk to me.”
Still no answer.
“Did someone abuse you? Threaten you? Make you feel unsafe?”
At first I think she’s still not going to answer, until…
“Yes,” she whispers.
My protective instincts kick into overdrive and I pull her closer. “Tell me what happened.”
She buries her face in my shoulder but says nothing.
“Ivy, please. I want to know why you’re so scared.”
She places her hand on my chest, right above my heart. It beats a few times before she says anything. “He was popular in high school. I guess you could say we both were. When we started going out our senior year, everyone said we were the perfect couple. Star football player and cheerleader. Homecoming king and queen.” She pauses. “It’s pathetic, I know, but that was my life.”
“It’s not pathetic, Ivy. I had a screwed-up high school experience, and that’s putting it mildly. I’m glad yours was normal.”
“Normal is deceiving, though. What looks perfect and normal on the outside can be very dysfunctional on the inside. In my home town, lots of people stick around and marry their high school sweethearts, have kids, and live happily ever after.”
“And he thought you were destined for the same thing?” I recall the conversation we had about fate and destiny. She seemed pissed off about it at the time.
She nods. “But when we got to college and I got a glimpse of a bigger, wider world, I began to see Chase for what he was. A selfish, cruel person. I decided I didn’t want to live the rest of my life with someone like that.”
“So you broke up with him?”
“I tried to. Several times.”
“What do you mean, you tried to? You either do or you don’t, right?”
Her laugh is bitter and harsh. “You didn’t know Chase. He was used to getting his way. And when he didn’t, things got ugly. Fast. The trouble was, no one else saw that side of him. Only me. He’d be charming and funny when we were out in public, but behind closed doors things were much different.”