For the first time, Ivy didn’t direct.
But something in those hands—the controlled tremor of the torch, the way light caught the silver scar on his thumb—made her pause. hookuphotshot ivy aura
The door clicked shut.
She didn’t flinch. But her grip on the coffee cup tightened until her knuckles went white. For the first time, Ivy didn’t direct
Ivy handed him a glass of wine. He set it down without drinking. For the first time
“I know. Mine’s not Kai.” He pulled on his jeans. “It’s Marcus. But that doesn’t matter. What matters is you felt something last night. And you’re trying to kill it because feeling things is the one acquisition you’ve never learned to manage.”
Then she slid out of bed.