The Girl Next Door

by Emma Hart

  We all placed our orders within a few minutes. After a moment of arguing about whether Ivy cared about anyone drinking or not, of course. She finally won the argument, forcing everyone but me to order alcohol. I was driving after all, and while I knew she thought that argument was complete bullshit, she didn’t push the issue.

  Anna was the only one not to order—she said she had an early meeting in the morning and left after bidding everyone goodbye and telling me to be home by dark with a wink. Since her calendar was now pinned to the front of my fridge, I knew she was telling the truth.

  The conversation swiftly drifted to the news of the day—updates on everyone’s lives, a discussion about sports that ended in threats of more under the table kicking if we didn’t shut up, and an eventual peace was called when our food was brought over.

  We ate to the tune of local gossip, and neither me or Ivy were surprised to find out that we were it. The whole town was alight with the news that we were supposedly married and having a baby.

  “If one more person mentions it in the store, I’m going to gauge my eyeballs out with a pencil,” Holley said, dipping her fries in ketchup. “Honestly, I’m over it.”

  “Eyeballs won’t help,” Kinsley pointed out. “You’ll still be able to hear them.”

  “Fine. I’ll shove the pencils so far into my ears that the drums will burst.”

  “That’s not dramatic at all,” Ivy drawled.

  I chuckled into my glass. Given Ivy’s own propensity for the dramatic, I wasn’t entirely surprised that Holley had it, too. I would bet my life savings that that particular gene came directly from their grandmother.

  If only that were a thing, I’d be rich as hell.

  Or maybe not, knowing how those betting websites worked.

  “Don’t Stop Believin’,” Kinsley argued.

  Holley shook her head. “Oops I Did It Again.”

  “Really?” Tori said. “That’s what you’re going for? Britney? Over Journey? Dear God, what’s happening here?”

  “Ladies.” Josh held out his hands. “You’re all wrong.”

  “Really,” Kinsley drawled, her tone the audible embodiment of Holley and Tori’s raised eyebrows.

  It was freaky.

  Adam nodded. “Bohemian Rhapsody is obviously the best option for karaoke.”

  At some point when I’d been in my head, this conversation had taken one hell of a weird turn.

  “Who’s doing karaoke?” I asked.

  Ivy sighed. “Mom and Dad set up karaoke every now and then. There’s this weird little stage area over there.” She pointed to the other side of the bar. “We don’t use it often because we don’t have a need for it, but sometimes they get a bee in their bonnet and the next thing you know, there’s a huge screen set up and Mom is standing there with a clipboard coordinating sign-ups for drunk people to sing cheesy songs.”

  “Huh,” I said, tilting my head to one side. “Reminds me of Spain.”

  “Spain? How on Earth does that remind you of Spain?”

  “Move!” Kinsley flicked her hands in our direction for us to get out of the large, circular booth we were sitting in. “I’m not singing Bohemian-freakin’-Rhapsody!”

  We moved.

  “And thank God for that,” Ivy muttered. “She doesn’t know the words.”

  I chuckled and sat back down. “How does she not know the words?”

  “God knows. But get her drunk enough and she’ll rap you half of Kanye’s backlist.”

  “Can we do that when we get married for real?”

  Her glare was intense.

  “Kidding. Maybe.” I grinned.

  “Tell me about Spain.”

  “Ah, okay. So one of my cousins is British—he actually lives in the Florida Keys now. He mostly grew up in London, and so we spent a few summers in Europe. One year I remember we all went to this place in Spain where the hotel was all-inclusive, but the entertainment was pretty tacky.”

  “Karaoke?”

  “Karaoke,” I confirmed. “Not that it’s—”

  “No, it’s totally tacky,” Ivy interrupted. “That’s why those idiots like it.”

  I looked in the direction of our friends. It was a relatively newly formed group given our current circumstances, but it worked. Not that Adam was too thrilled about hanging out with his sister, but that was his problem.

  “You can’t sing?” I asked.

  Ivy shook her head. “I don’t sing,” she corrected. “I can sing, I just choose not to.”

  “Why not?”

  “It’s a bit of a spoiler alerpt for the next few hours.”

  “Are you going to last for a few more hours?”

  She tilted her phone and checked the time. “Doubtful. I’m tired.”

  “Then it’s not a spoiler alert, it’s a warning that I should ask your dad for the security tapes of this mess so I can see it for myself. I bet it’s a fucking shitshow.”

  “Fair enough.” She finished the last of her water and leaned forward so she could see around me. “Okay, here’s how this will go: Holley will win. They’ll start with Britney, move onto Journey, and probably throw some Christina Aguilera in there for good measure.”

  “Really?”

  “Oh, just hold on.” She tucked her hair behind her ear and held up one finger. “Dad will kick them off the stage at this point, where they’ll all head to the bar and Tori will order two rounds of shots.”

  “I like my odds here.”

  “Yeah, well, settle down because nobody bet against you.” She stole my water and sucked on the straw at the corner of her mouth. “Adam and Josh will take the stage not long after and sing their absolutely freaking gut-wrenching rendition of the rhapsody where Tori will ultimately join to sing the high bits, then they’ll take a break.”

  “What do they do then?”

  “Kinsley raps Gold Digger by Kanye, but only if she’s drunk out of her mind.”

  “Does she actually rap it? Like proper rap, not the talk-singing thing most rappers think they can do?”

  “Oh, she can rap. It’s one hell of a weird talent,” Ivy mused, playing with the straw. “I have no idea where she picked that up, but I think she’s able to do it because she can read Latin.”

  “On what world do Latin and rap go together?”

  “One where bookworms sit on thrones and demand their subjects be fluent in ancient poetry?”

  “That sounds… terrifying.”

  “I don’t know,” she said slowly. “If bookworms ruled the world, I might like people more.”

  “Why?”

  “Because everyone knows bookworms aren’t interested in talking to people.”

  “But in what world would bookworms take control?”

  “Have you ever been hit by a book? That shit hurts, and these bitches live in bookstores and libraries. They have an entire arsenal of weapons at their disposal and we take that for granted. If they could stop reading long enough to build supersonic catapults, we’d be in trouble.”

  “I guess it’s a good thing they always need to read the next chapter, then.”

  “Exactly.” She grinned. “Between that and drunk singing awful pop songs at karaoke, they just don’t have the time for technological advancements to launch books at people.”

  “Aren’t you a bookworm?”

  “Yes, and since I can’t drunk sing karaoke now, you’d better watch out.”

  “You just said you don’t drunk sing karaoke.”

  “Semantics.” She waved her hand, finishing my water.

  “It’s fine, I didn’t want that.”

  “I know.” She nudged me with her elbow and grinned. “How long do you want to stay? To see Britney or go all the way through to Kanye?”

  “Is Kanye a definite? Because that might sway me.”

  Ivy grimaced. “No. There’s probably a fifty-fifty chance of it, to be honest. Nothing that I’d say is certain.”

  “Hmm. Maybe we stay until Bohemian Rhapsody and then get ice cr
eam.”

  Her face lit up with her mouth forming an excited small. “Really?”

  “I’m starting to think ice cream is your weak spot.”

  She bit the corner of her lip, still smiling. “Little bit.”

  I wrapped my arm around her shoulders and touched my lips to her ear. “Then ice cream we’ll have.”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN – KAI

  Ivy moaned, dragging the spoon out of her mouth slowly.

  My eyes followed her tongue as it flicked out against the plastic spoon and darted back between her lips.

  This hadn’t been the best idea in the world.

  “Do you have to make that noise?”

  She glanced over at me coyly. “What noise?”

  “You know what I’m talking about.” I turned away from her and looked out at the trail.

  The Waffle Cone, our ice cream parlor, was nestled at the base of one of White Peak’s many trails. It was the perfect spot for Helena and Charlie Daniels to set up shop because of the heavy foot traffic from tourists during the warmer months, especially on evenings like this.

  Evenings when the sky was painted intricate shades of gold and blue and peppered with the light fluffiness of the clouds, when the sun had no intention of fully disappearing and merely toyed with the horizon. It kept it warm enough to stay out late without a chill, but cool enough that it wasn’t stiflingly hot.

  I had no idea how people survived in Florida.

  “What did you think of their singing?” she asked after a moment.

  “I think it’s the worst thing I’ve ever heard,” I admitted, shaking my head. “I’m almost glad we didn’t stay long enough to see if Kanye happened.”

  Ivy’s head bobbed in agreement. “Same. They were particularly bad tonight. Tori was getting ready to bust out some Aguilera, and that’s when I knew it was time to go.”

  “What does she sing?”

  “What do you think she sings? Dirrty.”

  “Oh, fucking hell.”

  “You said it. For an introvert, all she needs is a few shots of vodka and she’s insane.” She paused. “Mind you, I think that’s just her personality. She always tells me she’s an introvert in the streets and an extrovert in the sheets.”

  “That’s far more information than I ever needed to know about your best friend.”

  “Speak for yourself. That’s nothing.”

  I laughed and got up to put my empty bowl in the trashcan. It was only a few feet away, and when I got back, Ivy grinned and held out hers. Fighting a smile, I took it and threw it out for her, then joined her back on the bench.

  “Have you enjoyed your birthday?” She peered over at me, pushing hair from her eyes.

  I reached out and tucked it behind her ear, letting my fingertips linger on her soft skin. “It was fun. Thank you for this evening.”

  “Does that mean I can throw you a party next year?”

  “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”

  “I didn’t hear a no in there.”

  “Ivy.”

  She grinned. “What? You didn’t say no. I was merely pointing that out.”

  “Fine. No. No, you cannot throw me a party next year.”

  “Okay, the baby will.”

  “Babies can’t throw parties, Ivy.”

  “Try me.”

  I shook my head at her. At least she’d given me a years’ warning—I would have to be inexplicably out of the country this time next year. Probably with the baby, since they wouldn’t be able to pull off such a feat without her help.

  “I’m not kidding,” she continued. “You’ll be thirty. I’m going to make you sick with how I’ll decorate the bar. Streamers everywhere, balloons on all the tables, party hats for everyone, massive balloon arches at the doorway—”

  “Ivy, be quiet.”

  “No, I can see it now.” She waved her hands in front of her in a ta-da motion. “Fairy cakes with your face on them, cookies in the shape of a K, confetti absolutely everywhere—”

  I tugged her into me and clapped my hand over her mouth. “Stop it. You’re caring me.”

  She laughed into my palm. “A four-tier birthday cake!”

  “Shhh.”

  “With sparklers,” she said, muffled by my hand.

  “No.”

  “And thirty candles for you to make a wish on.”

  “I wish you’d be quiet.”

  She collapsed into peals of laughter, falling right into me. I fell back onto the grass, and the movement dislodged my hand from her mouth so that her laughter rang out through the small clearing we were sitting in. She collapsed on top on me, pressing her face into my chest as her entire body shook with laughter.

  I let my arm settle around her body and peered down at her. She was so fucking beautiful anyway, but when she laughed, it was a whole other story. Her eyes lit up like magic, and the flush of her cheeks was too adorable, but it was the smile that came with the laugh that punched me in the gut and made my heart squeeze.

  She had the kind of smile you couldn’t help but smile back at. It was infectious, and the more I saw it, the more I wanted to see it.

  The more I wanted to be the reason for it.

  I wanted to be the reason Ivy smiled.

  Every single day.

  She tilted her head back and looked up at me. “What?”

  “I was just thinking that there’s nowhere I’d rather be right now than right here with you.”

  Something flashed in her gaze. “Really?”

  “Really.” I brushed her hair out of her eyes and let my hand rest against the side of her face.

  Hesitantly, she said, “That night. At Vincent’s party. When you were talking about us going out.”

  “Mm.”

  “Were you being serious?”

  “Do you need me to answer that question? Really?”

  Her throat bobbed as she swallowed. “Can I tell you something?”

  “Always.”

  “I’m really glad I brushed you off.” She rolled onto her stomach and looked at me earnestly. “Like, really glad I thought it was all a big joke.”

  My eyebrows raised. “That’s a weird thing to tell a guy you’re cuddling on the grass.”

  Her lips twitched. “Well, if I’d said yes, none of this would be happening, would it?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “If I’d agreed to go out with you on a date, that’s where the night would have ended. You wouldn’t have kept pursuing me, we never would have slept together—”

  “Which would have been a shame because that was fucking great sex.”

  “—And I wouldn’t be pregnant. Which means we wouldn’t be here right now.”

  “I guess that makes sense.” I traced little circles on her back with my finger. “Although I’m an optimist and I like to think we would have made it here eventually.”

  “You really think that?”

  “Why wouldn’t I? We’re having a baby and I’m trying to date you for real, Ivy. It would say a lot about me if, when faced with an alternative scenario, I didn’t think this would happen.”

  “I suppose,” she said softly. “I’ve just been thinking a lot today, that’s all.”

  “Thinking? Oh, Jesus, no. Nothing good comes of a woman thinking a lot.”

  She swatted my chest. “Oh, shut up.”

  “What were you thinking about?”

  “Everything.”

  “That’s not very reassuring.”

  Her lips twitched. “Stop it. I’m trying to be serious here and you keep making me laugh.”

  “I’m not great at serious.”

  “You’re better than I am. I’m not good with feelings. Unless I’m hungry or tired, then I have no issues vocalizing those.”

  “Yes, I have to admit that I have noticed that.”

  “Oh, go away.” She tried to get up, but I wrapped my arms around her and locked her against me, even hooking my leg over both of hers to make sure she couldn’t move.

&nbs
p; If anyone walked past, they’d probably report us to the police.

  “Kai, let me go.”

  “No. Never.” I met her gaze. “Tell me what you thought about.”

  Her blue eyes shone, and a myriad of emotions flashed through them. Apprehension, hope, hesitance—one by one they zipped past, each one barely lasting a second before it was replaced with something else.

  “Tell me,” I encouraged her softly. “Tell me what you thought about, Ivy.”

  “You.”

  The spark that single word sent through me had the hair on the back of my neck standing on end. “Me?”

  “You,” she confirmed quietly. “Me. Us. This whole situation. What if it is all because of the baby? You said you had feelings for me before, okay, fine, but what if mine are just because this is happening? Because I’m scared and vulnerable and lost and confused and you’re the one person who’s there through it all? What if I just think I have all these grand, amazing feelings for you but I really don’t?”

  “Do you really believe that?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t trust myself to eat before nine a.m., never mind make any decisions like this.”

  My lips twitched at that. “Sorry. I shouldn’t laugh at that.”

  “No, you shouldn’t, or I’ll start vomiting in your bathroom instead. It’s a bitch to get rid of the smell.”

  I carefully untangled myself from her. She rolled onto her back and looked up at the sky where the stars were just beginning to peek through, and I propped my head on my hand so I could look down at her.

  At the way her eyelashes cast shadows over her skin, and the little mole that hid itself at the crease of her nose, and the tiny scar that was reminiscent of a pimple at the corner of the lip.

  At the little things you only saw when you really, truly looked at someone.

  The little things that made them even more perfect to you.

  “Tell me what you’re really afraid of, Ivy.”

  “That all my doubts come true.” Her voice was barely a whisper, and her gaze stayed fixated on the stars. “That in a year I’ll realize this was all situational, that I only feel this way because of the baby. That I’ll have to hurt you, and you’ll have wasted your time on waiting for me.”

  I waited for her to continue, and when she didn’t, I spoke. “If that’s how you feel, that’s how you feel. I’ll never begrudge you for your feelings, all right? Besides, I already told you that none of that matters. You and the baby are my priority.”