“You better watch your fuckin’ mouth,” I grunt, tension coiling in my body, taking a step closer to her. She smiles like the Cheshire cat, apparently liking how she’s pissed me off.
Yeah, the hate-sex is gonna be real fuckin’ good for the both of us.
A familiar sound of keys sliding into the lock followed by the click of the deadbolt has us both turning toward the door. Laughter filters through the room, and my eyes bounce back over to Ivy. The smell of her clean scent washes over me; the way her throat bobs when she swallows ignites a fire within me.
“Mother?” Ivy says, sounding both surprised and lighter. Like happiness was wrapped around one simple word. That is until I realize it’s my father and his fiancée, Charlene, staring back at us.
For a second, I wonder if they heard us arguing from outside.
“Ivyana,” she replies, smiling, and it all clicks into place.
My mind filters through the several conversations we’ve had about her daughter, Ivyana. The daughter who graduated high school with honors and has a nearly perfect GPA at the University of North Carolina.
Ivy is Ivyana. What the hell is wrong with me? Why didn’t it click into place until now? I’ve never heard her called by her full name, not even when we were back in high school.
“Hi, Mother.” She grins, crossing the distance between them to wrap her in a hug. The snarky tone she threw at me a moment ago is completely gone, replaced with something else entirely.
Reaching my hand up behind my neck, I massage my fingers into my skin in hopes of easing the tension.
“I’m so happy to see you, honey. I’ve missed you.”
Already over this bullshit, I begin picking up the beer cans strewn over the coffee table along with the ones knocked over onto the floor.
“Brix, what the hell happened here?”
It wouldn’t be a typical day if my father wasn’t finding some reason to lay into me.
“What’s it look like? I had a few drinks last night after my show. I’ll fuckin’ clean it up, alright? Chill out.”
Holding the cans in my palm, I brush past my father, stalking into the kitchen.Like whiplash, the once happy moment between Ivy and her mom is gone.
“This can’t happen anymore. You hear me? Just because I let you live here doesn’t mean you can treat my place like a dumpster.”
“Yeah, I got it.”
“I’m serious, Brix,” he demands, raising his voice even louder, “turn around and look at me.”
Tossing the cans into the recycle bin, I turn the faucet on and wash my hands before grabbing the towel. Resting my hip on the edge of the counter, I stare at him with a look I hope saysget on with it already.
“This cannot happen anymore.”
“I heard you the first time. I said I got it.”
Charlene whispers something to him about waiting until later to have this talk. He nods, apparently ready to let it go.
We only agreed I’d stay here because I promised to help look after the place. His job has him traveling a lot. Even when he’s in town between trips, he usually stayed at the apartment near his office. It got to the point he was either going to sell the house or hire a groundskeeper.
“I’m glad to see you’ve met Ivyana. She’s Charlene’s daughter. You may remember us discussing her staying here for the summer. I didn’t want the two of you to meet this way.” He glances at Ivy, and she flashes him a warm smile as he says, “It’s good to see you again.”
Again?I thought.
“I didn’t want you to meet this way,” he repeats, “or for you two to find out under these circumstances.” His eyes bounce back over to Charlene. She steps closer to him, grabbing his hand.
Ivy’s eyes widen in bewilderment as if hanging on his every word waiting for what bomb he’s about to drop. I know what’s about to come before the words are even out of his mouth.
“Charlene and I… while we were away on vacation, we decided to get married.”
“What the—?” I stammer.