She wasn’t going to let it go. “Join me in the shower while we wait for the next task?”
“That’s a bad idea.” His sharp retort sent ice spilling down her spine. “We’re not making a habit of this.”
What? Was she missing something? No one could fake what they’d done. Could they? “I’m having fun. Aren’t you?”
“Yes.” He clenched his jaw.
“Then tell me why.”
He stepped back, putting a couple extra feet between them. “We promised this wouldn’t damage our friendship.”
Her gut twisted in on itself. Was she doing that by pushing the issue? From where she sat, he was the one poking holes in what they had. “It doesn’t have to. Did you know the best couples are also best friends?” She didn’t mean to say couple. That pushed things too far too fast. But it was also true.
“Next task is here.” Miles nodded at her computer.
Irritation joined the hurt growing inside. “Don’t do that. We’re talking.”
“Fine.” He looked at her again. His hard gaze sliced through her. “We aren’t a couple. We can’t be a couple. It won’t happen.”
How could he say that with so much conviction? Her heart shriveled in her chest. So she wasn’t like the girls he usually dated. But they had chemistry. History. They cared about each other. “Why not? I’m not pretty enough? I don’t have enough money? I won’t impress your family’s friends at country club dinners?”
His mask cracked, and his shoulders slumped. “You’re gorgeous. You’re more stunning that anyone else in the world. I don’t care about the rest.”
“Then what is it?” Her voice cracked. Why was he doing this to her? Why was she doing it to herself? She could have kept her mouth shut, but no. She had to push the issue.
“You deserve someone better than me.”
“Wrong.” She spat the word out. “You don’t get to determine that. You can say if you want me to stay. I can say if I want you. But you have no right to tell me what I want or need.”
“I do if it involves me.”
“Don’t twist this back on me.” She was getting angry. It was easier than feeling the hurt. He didn’t want her, and he was making excuses.
“You promised.”
And he was manipulating the conversation on top of it. “Fine. Subject is closed. Like you want. Like I promised.” She gritted her teeth and spun back to her laptop. “Next task. Share a secret you’ve never told anyone.”
“Maybe we should call it a day.” Was that a waver in Miles’ voice?
She faced him to find he’d paled. “Are you terrified to know my secret?”
He raised an eyebrow. “Do you have one?”
She hadn’t thought about that. She didn’t keep secrets. “I tell you everything.”
Not everything. She was close today. The confession was on the tip of her tongue, but he was being an ass.
“Everything except...?” He watched her expectantly.
Ivy needed an answer. She sure as fuck wasn’t going tell him the big thing. Not now. “My car is dead. I’m one bad sales month from bankruptcy and that means I can’t afford to deal with it.”
“You should have said something.” His voice and expression softened.
“No. I shouldn’t have.” She didn’t need his pity and she sure as fuck didn’t want it.
“That’s hardly a deep dark secret.”
“You’re judging the quality of what I keep to myself now?”
Miles shook his head. “Just... that’s so Ivy. You’re a bright spot in the world. Even your secrets are things that aren’t your fault. That show how defiant and independent you are.”
That’s so Ivy. He probably meant it as a compliment, but it seared through her, amplifying the hurt. “Do you have some sort of deep dark secret that you’d die if anyone knew?”
His mask slipped back into place.
No denial. No confirmation. His silence spoke volumes.
Fuck this. He didn’t get to say who she loved and what she did or didn’t keep to herself. She pointed the camera at him, snapped a photo, typed out a caption, and submitted it.
“What was that?” Miles asked suspiciously.
“My deep dark secret.” She showed him the phone. The caption read I’m in love with my best friend, and he doesn’t give a fuck. Unless he wants to fuck.
Did she really post that? Yeah, she did. And she didn’t care. The world could see how stupid she was for falling for Miles.
“You promi—”
“I swear to God if you say you promised this wouldn’t ruin our friendship one more time... Guess what? I loved you before today.” It hurt to say that aloud. It wasn’t supposed to send razors through her heart to admit how she felt. “What we did today didn’t magically make the feeling manifest. It’s been there for years. And you’ve either never noticed, or never cared.”
“You’re not hearing me. I do care. We just can’t happen.”
“Because I’m too good for you. Right. Do you have any idea how fucking lame that sounds?”
Miles shrugged. “You don’t have to believe it for it to be true.”
“Give me proof.”
He worked his jaw. “Life doesn’t work that way.”
“Fuck you.” She was screaming. It was a good thing the woman upstairs was mostly deaf. “Is this bullshit excuse easier than telling me you’re not attracted to me? Or that your parents wouldn’t approve?”
Miles sighed heavily enough she saw his chest rise and fall. He stared at the ceiling for a moment before focusing on her. “I want you more than anything.” The ache in the words were like a punch in her gut. “And even if my parents didn’t adore you...”
“Tell. Me. Tell me now why you think I’m too good for you”—her voice was snide—“or I swear to God I’ll never speak to you again.”
“You won’t anyway, when I tell you.”
He believed that. He wasn’t just being noble or asinine or looking for excuses to chase her away. Whatever this was, he thought it was big.
Did she want to know? Could they come back from whatever it was?
They’d already crossed a line that changed everything, and it wasn’t the sex. It was this conversation. “Miles.”
He scrubbed his face. “Do you remember in high school, when we had that huge fight?”
Her gut sank. She did remember, because she hated not talking to him after that. She’d been tutoring him, and accused him of letting her do all the work.
They moved past that. But something else happened while they weren’t speaking. She didn’t want to think about it, even though it always hovered at the back of her mind. It didn’t have anything to do with this. “I remember.”
“I started those rumors.”
Bile rose in her throat. Anger shifted to fury. The rumors were that she was the high school whore. That her tutoring clients were paying for sex, not lessons. That anyone with enough cash could fuck her.
She never escaped that gossip. It cost her so much. “You didn’t.”
“I’m so sorry, Ivy.” His voice wavered. “I was furious, and I let it get the best of me. I know it was wrong. I wish every day I could take it back. I never meant... I didn’t want to hurt you.”
Her retort lodged in her throat, and tears stung her eyes. He’d said those things about her? It didn’t matter that it was four years ago. The scars still ached. The fallout still haunted her. “Guess what? You fucking failed on that front.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
This was what Miles wanted to avoid. On the one hand, it made sense that Ivy deserved to know. But it was in the past. She’d moved on. Telling her now re-opened old wounds.
His guilt was immense regardless, so that wasn’t a consideration. Her hurt, though... He hated seeing that.
And he hated the loathing in her eyes when she looked at him.
“I didn’t mean it, even then,” he said. “It was stupid.”
“That doesn’t change the fallout. That
rumor made the last year of high school a living hell for me.” Red splotches dotted Ivy’s skin, and her face was contorted with rage.
“I know. I’m sorry.”
“I lost my scholarship because the wrong people believed those rumors.”
He winced. “I wish I could take it back.”
“You’ve covered that.”
He didn’t have anything else to add beyond repeating himself. “I don’t know what else to say. I’d do anything for you.”
“Except tell me the truth.”
He could counter that. Point out she’d hidden things too. His secret was bigger. It actually hurt her. And it made her reasons for keeping secrets even more valid. “I didn’t...”
“What? Whatever you’re fucking thinking, lay it out now, because we’ve moved past maybe it’s not a big deal.”
He inhaled through his nostrils. “I didn’t want to lose you.”
“But you didn’t trust me with reality. You’ve had four years to say something. You could have told me when it happened.”
No, he couldn’t have. “Would you have let me back into your life if I did?”
“That wasn’t your decision to make. You took that choice from me. You stole my agency by starting that rumor. By not telling me it was you. By spending the next four years letting me believe I was dirt compared to the women you were fucking.”
“I never said that. I’ve always told you how incredible you are.”
She narrowed her gaze, and stepped close enough their nose were inches apart. “Actions speak louder than words, Miles. Every time you ignored me, chose someone else over me, did things with me that you shrugged off as insignificant with other women, it hurt. And it was all because you didn’t have big enough balls to own up to your mistake.”
“Please understand why I didn’t tell you.” Please, please. “You have to understand.”
“I understand that sometimes people say stupid things they don’t mean. I don’t have to do anything though.”
“Ivy—”
“Shut up. Whatever you’re going to say, unless it’s that you magically know how to undo this, and you mean it, there’s nothing I want to hear. I don’t want to see you. I don’t want to hear your voice. You need to leave.”
“I love you, too.”
“Get out.” She screamed so loudly, her voice cracked.
He was out of arguments or apologies or anything. He nodded, and left.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Ivy raked her fingers through her hair until her scalp ached. Hurt and fury and betrayal spilled down her cheeks in hot, acidic tears. Her throat was raw. Her insides ached. She wanted to stop crying.
She couldn’t.
She sat in the middle of her living room until her sobs made her ill.
When her body refused to cry anymore, she extracted herself from the floor.
The shirt she wore smelled too much like Miles. She stripped it off, and shoved it in the trash. She tugged on a nearby sweater, and wandered out to her studio.
Inside, she locked the door, turned on her music full blast, and screamed at the top of her lungs until her vocal chords refused to work.
Looking around the studio was a mistake. Paint was splattered everywhere. The remnants of love making.
But it wasn’t. They’d fucked. Miles tried to warn her. She convinced herself she new better.
Was this all her fault? Being blind to who Miles was?
Fuck that.
He lied.
He kept the truth from her.
He had no right to dictate who she loved or why.
Ivy set the half-finished canvas aside, and grabbed a blank one. What was she going to draw?
It didn’t matter, as long as it gave her an outlet for the bubbling cauldron inside her.
She splashed the canvas with blacks and purples and blues. The colors danced in a vibrant mess that reflected her emotions.
It didn’t help her feel better though.
She was done with the scavenger hunt.
She was done with Miles.
She was just done.
Ivy settled into the corner of the garage, back to the wall. She pulled her knees to her chest, and let the tears flow again.
Not because of what Miles did back then. It had hurt, but she’d made the best of life since. But because of every decision he’d made on her behalf since. Without asking her. Without telling her.
All this time she’d pined over him, telling herself she wasn’t good enough, and he’d been turning her away because he cared.
What the hell?
And then he had the nerve—
She sobbed.
—the balls to tell her I love you, to try to make things better.
That wasn’t love. It was lies and arrogance.
She didn’t know how long she sat there. Until she was cried out, and a little longer.
When she finally moved from her spot, her phone flashed with new messages. More than a dozen texts and voicemails from Miles.
She deleted them all unread and unheard.
There was another in there, though. Buried among his betrayal, from a number she didn’t recognize.
Ivy used this phone for business, so she couldn’t afford to delete that one. She hit Play on the voice mail.
“Hi, Ivy. This is Jade from Single Status. I’m the marketing director here. I saw your scavenger hunt entries, with the artwork, and it led me to your website. Don’t worry, I didn’t share your information. Your privacy is still safe. The thing is, I’d love to talk to you about commissioning some work from you. Paid at your standard rate, of course.”
Ivy wanted to cheer at the message. She didn’t have the energy, though.
She wandered back inside to splash cold water on her face and drink enough to soothe her throat. Taking several calming breaths, she called Jade back.
Five minutes later, after a pleasant phone call that required minimal thought from Ivy, she had an appointment.
She should celebrate. They were interested in having her do custom work for them, and the project could be huge. Big enough to take care of her car huge.
If this were any other day, she’d call Miles and share the fantastic news. He’d insist on buying her dinner. They’d have an amazing night out.
That wasn’t an option now.
Was their friendship really over, just like that? So many years...
Ivy could have stayed friends with him forever. Pining over him from afar.
But if she’d kept doing that, she was guilty of one thing she’d accused him of—making decisions for him about their relationship.
And she would have been miserable, watching him go through life the way he had.
This was like ripping off the bandaid. It hurt like hell, but it kept her from dragging out a friendship that wasn’t, so she could mope of the guy she’d convinced herself she couldn’t have.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Miles didn’t know what to do. Ivy wasn’t answering any of his messages.
He was only partly surprised. The way she shouted... He’d never seen her so furious.
And he’d ruined another Valentine’s Day for her. Though, he was more worried with everything else he’d destroyed.
Their friendship had its bumps, but they always recovered.
They may not this time.
She was right about him taking choices from her. It made sense when he did it, but looking back, he’d been such an idiot.
He stalked the scavenger hunt forums for the rest of the night. She didn’t post anything else.
Her last entry mocked him. His own photo staring back, with the caption that she loved her best friend.
The video of her painting was there, within an easy click. He couldn’t watch it. It was attached to too one perfect moment before everything fell apart.
The paint didn’t wash off in the shower. Another thing Ivy had been right about. He’d seen the results of this before on her—the pigments that stained her skin for
days after an intense painting session. The splashes of red and blue and green in her pale hair.
Every memory that flashed in his thoughts clenched like a vise around his heart. He loved and hated it at the same time.
The next morning, the paint was faded, but not gone. And Ivy hadn’t replied to him.
Life had to go on. He had to go to work, as if his world was still spinning. It wasn’t.
He sent her another text.Please talk to me.
Should he keep reaching out every half hour, until she replied, or give her space?
She made her choice. She knows how to reach you. Maybe learn from your mistakes?
He’d give her space.
The day passed in a slog. He couldn’t help checking his phone every free chance he got, and it was impossible to ignore the stab of regret that Ivy hadn’t replied.
Updates went up on her social media accounts, for work. They were all scheduled posts. She didn’t interact with anyone.
If he took care of her car bill, would that help?
If you could buy her friendship, she would have asked for that a long time ago. And you would have lost interest.
He wasn’t liking this part of his brain that was logical.
A week passed with no word from Ivy. He needed to do something. He couldn’t take back the past. He had to prove he knew he’d fucked up, and wanted to move forward.
But have you actually learned?
Miles was trying. He had no idea what to do next, but he’d figure it out.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Ivy ran on autopilot for a week. The bare minimum got done. Enough to keep her in food and shelter, but not much else.
She needed to shake herself out of this. There was work go do and life had to go on.
Today was a good day to press Reset on everything, and start a new chapter of her life. She had her video conference with Single Status, and she was going to impress the fuck out of them.
Was it better or worse that she didn’t have to drive anywhere? In the hour leading up to the call, Ivy paced her apartment, and adjusted her hair and makeup five billion times.
And then she couldn’t put it off anymore. Anticipation churned in her gut. She watched the clock, waiting for her chat app to ring.
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