Chasing Ivy (Oak Hill, #1)

by S. J. Sylvis

  Once we had all the boxes in the house (which took us a lot longer than I would like to admit, considering there weren’t very many) we scattered them around my bare living room and both collapsed onto the ground.

  “I wish you and Eric hadn’t broken up. He could have carried all these in here while we stood mindlessly by the door, pointing in which direction they needed to go.” Mia huffed, causing her golden-brown hair to fly up past her forehead.

  I let out a sad sigh, thinking about Eric.

  Eric was my boyfriend of the last year and a half. We’d met one day at a coffee shop while I was trying to work through my statistic homework. I ended up breaking my pencil in half from the sudden burst of anger I’d felt when I kept getting an equation wrong. The snapping of the wood wasn’t all that loud but apparently, he’d heard it.

  He turned around from the table in front of me and very slyly asked, “What did that pencil ever do to you?”

  I was taken aback at how strikingly handsome he was. He wasn’t the type of guy that I was used to…which would be none. Of course, my mind first wandered to Dawson. He was the last guy I’d even given a second thought to in a romantic way. Which was pathetic because all we’d ever shared was a kiss; he shouldn’t even be in the boyfriend category, more just like a long-lost best friend.

  Eric had jet black hair that was combed over just slightly to the right. His face was clean-shaven but even with his smooth face, I could tell he was older than me. He had sharp, dangerous features. His cheekbones were high and straight-edged, just like his jaw. The dark color of his eyebrows illuminated his baby-blues and I swore for a second, I could see the actual sky in them.

  He was also dripping with money. His navy blue suit was pressed and starched so perfectly, as if he’d just pulled it off the dry-cleaning rack. He had on a checkered, red tie and when he smiled at me, my stomach flip-flopped. He was too attractive for his own good, and he knew it.

  I didn’t answer him when he’d asked about my pencil. Instead I only stared at him because my mouth had forgotten to form words.

  “Ah, statistics,” he clucked, looking down at my paper. “In other words, a big pain in the ass.”

  A small laugh escaped my mouth and it caused him to smile so widely, I could see all his dentist-approved white teeth glimmering behind his peach-colored lips.

  “That sounds about right,” I answered, looking back from my laptop and then down to my notebook paper, scribbled with all sorts of equations.

  “Do you want some help?” he asked, hope gleaming in his eyes.

  I thought for a moment, trying to keep my expression even. Why would he want to help me? Surely, dressed like that he needed to get to some overly important business meeting.

  “I’m okay, I think. You look like you’re headed somewhere important.” I glanced down at his attire and then back up to his chiseled face.

  He bit back a smile. “I think there is nowhere more important than being right here, right now.”

  My heart jumped at his words. It’d been so long since I’d even given a guy a second look, let alone felt all swoony at a few words from his mouth. I couldn’t hold back my smile, but what I did try to hold back were the thoughts of the last boy who had made my heart strum a little faster in my chest.

  Dawson always crept into my head, even now, six years later, but I hadn’t seen or heard from him since I’d ridden in that fateful bus for six hours only to find him standing on his front stoop with my one and only enemy. The only two people I’d kept in touch with since moving away was my neighbor, Judy, and that’s because she helped me figure out some financial stuff over the years, and then Becca.

  Becca was the only person who knew I had gone to see Dawson after I’d moved away. I’d thought she was going to blow a gasket when I told her about Dawson and Breanna. I was pretty certain that steam was going to come pouring through the phone from her ears. In the midst of her flipping out, which made me feel worse about the situation, I made her swear not to tell him where I was or that I’d ever come to see him. I didn’t want him to know. I was angry. I was too angry for words and I hung onto that anger for as long as I could.

  Becca kept her promise, even to this day.

  Apparently, shortly after she’d gotten back from vacation that summer and after she’d called me back, he’d shown up at her house and asked if she’d heard from me. She slapped him in the face and told him to never, ever talk about me again. They got into a massive fight, one that they still haven’t worked through.

  She’d called the second he left her house and filled me in. It literally caused an ache inside my chest to know he was inquiring about me, and it swayed my inner turmoil slightly. But not enough to break down and have Becca give him my number. I just... couldn't do it. Too much hurt was still there, lying right below the anger, and although at one point in time Dawson had been one of the most important things in my life, it wasn’t like that anymore.

  Things had changed.

  Too much had changed.

  Becca’s sealed her mouth shut, not giving up any bit of information on me (not that he still cared now) but Dawson hasn’t spoken to her since. It had been six long years, and he hadn’t spoken to her once. Not even when they were both in the same bar (the only bar in Oak Hill), hanging with the same friends, or when they were sitting near one another at Wildcats football games.

  He was still holding a grudge over it.

  And I really couldn’t figure out why that meant something to me, but it did.

  A singsong voice grabbed my attention. “Earth to Ivyyyyy.”

  I blinked. “What?” I looked over at my sister who was eyeing me with such suspicion that I felt like I was in a room full of FBI agents.

  “Where were you just then? I was asking if you wanted to unpack. I have to head back to school in a few days, so chop chop!”

  “Oh yeah, let’s get started. I’ll order some pizza from Frankie’s.”

  Mia stood up and came over to where I was. She bent down with her big, round eyes and droned, “I’m gonna bet my left arm… that you were thinking of a certain somebody with blue eyes.” She grinned and then coughed the name Dawson under her breath.

  “What? No I wasn’t!” I acted like I was appalled, which only fed her more ammunition to use against me.

  “Oh, whatever! You always look a certain way when you’re thinking about him.”

  I turned away from her and shot to my feet, brushing off her accusation.

  She didn’t let my walking away stop her. “You’re afraid to see him.” Mia crossed her arms across her chest and quipped her eyebrow.

  If she keeps prodding me, I’m going to eat all the pizza and give her none.

  I rolled my eyes, snatching my phone to call in the pizza. “Pssh. No I’m not.”

  She smirked. “Whatever. You cannot lie to me. I know you better than anyone.”

  Yeah, so did he at one point.

  I blew out a long breath, preparing myself to stay neutral. But even through my attempt to act nonchalant, my words came out all wobbly. “Fine. I’m terrified.”

  Mia’s eyebrow lowered and her face softened. “It’ll be fine, Ivy. You two were besties, and then you had to move away. He can’t be upset with you over that. I mean, he has to understand that things were, like… crazy for us. It’s hard to keep in touch when your entire life is spiraling out of control.”

  I breathed in and out, nodding my head up and down. I was nervous as shit. It had been a long, long time since I’d seen Dawson. It had been a long, long time since I’d even thought about seeing Dawson. I stopped with the “what ifs” awhile ago, too busy and smothered by life to really sit down and allow myself to wonder how things would pan out whenever we did eventually come face-to-face again. Would he hate me for moving away and never reaching out (minus the time I came to him and he was with Breanna) or would he act as if we were long-lost friends and envelope me into a huge, breath-stealing hug? I wonder what the chances are of it being the latter�
�?

  Mia didn’t know that I had come back here, to Oak Hill, to see Dawson after everything went down. It was the only thing that I had ever kept from her, which made me feel a little guilty, but it was something that I couldn’t admit out loud for quite some time. It was hard enough telling Becca and having her freak out about it back then. I basically just wanted to hide under a rock, and never come out. It’s a memory I’d been burying deeper and deeper, each time it tried to resurface.

  Thankfully, Eric helped keep those thoughts of Dawson and our friendship – our short-lived kissing episode – buried. I probably wouldn’t admit it to him, but I would consider Eric to be a sort of rebound, if that could even be a thing since Dawson was never actually my boyfriend. But Eric did help me. He kind of helped me feel alive again, and to be honest, he was a good boyfriend and I truly did care about him…until I learned his true colors. I was still trying to wrap my head around that issue.

  I knew that I couldn’t really be angry with Dawson just because I’d seen him with Breanna after my parents died. It didn’t give me the right to hold a grudge against him, even if at the time, it destroyed me. It hurt me so deeply that I couldn’t even grasp the idea of it.

  And I hated admitting it, but every time I was brought back to that memory, it cut me all over again.

  I sighed, finally coming up with a response to my sister. “Yeah. I just wish I knew a little more of what I was walking into.”

  “I know,” she huffed, re-crossing her arms. “It’s so annoying that he doesn’t have a Facebook. Emmett does, but there’s nothing really about his family on there.” She tipped her head thoughtfully, staring at the ceiling. “Weird.”

  I knew that Dawson didn’t have a Facebook and I also knew that Emmett didn’t have any pictures of him on there. I looked, quite frequently.

  Sounding hopeful, I said, “Well, maybe I won’t run into him. Maybe he doesn’t even live here anymore.”

  Mia snickered, walking over to the kitchen to start unpacking the few boxes of plates and utensils that I’d obtained before moving here. “You know damn well he does. He took over his dad’s business… or is about to… or something like that.”

  My stomach churned realizing that it was inevitable that I would run into him. His father’s company was the only contractor in town, and I needed a lot of work done to my house. More than I could do, and I couldn’t afford to hire someone outside of Oak Hill. I needed the work done and I needed to stay within budget.

  I looked up at the popcorn ceiling, biting my lower lip.

  Maybe Dawson won’t be surprised to see me… maybe he’ll wrap me up in his strong arms and welcome me back like I was still his best friend. Maybe he won’t even recognize me and we can both pretend we weren’t totally consumed by the other at one point and time.

  That’s what I’ll keep telling myself.

  Chapter Ten

  Dawson

  I fucking loathed my computerized schedule every time the stupid red circle appeared. The red circle meant I had a business meeting to attend, usually to discuss blueprints and costs with a client, which was fine, except it meant that I had to change out of my normal attire and layer on slacks and a dress shirt. I despised it. I was having to take these meetings more and more lately, due to my father’s impending retirement. My days of working alongside the construction crew were numbered and my days attending business meetings increased by the week.

  Like I said, I didn’t mind meeting with clients; what I minded was having to dress up like I was some business schmuck who didn’t know a fucking wrench from a hammer. Which I did. If I was being honest, I would work alongside the crew for the rest of my life rather than take over the “business” side of the company.

  My mother insisted that I get a few good shirts and slacks to wear to these meetings. She had said the same thing to my father when they’d gotten married. If it were up to him and me, we’d both wear jeans and a construction t-shirt, maybe even paired with a dirty hard hat.

  Voilà. Perfect.

  I almost snickered at the thought of what my mother would say if I told her I was going to a meeting dressed in jeans and a t-shirt. She would probably fall over. Then I actually did snicker at the thought of what Breanna would say if I told her the same thing. She would gasp dramatically and cover her mouth with her dainty, manicured hand.

  Appearances meant a lot to the both of them.

  Looking back in the dirty mirror of the office bathroom, I adjusted my light blue collar so it was no longer suffocating me. I could hear my father talking to some woman out in the lobby but I wasn’t paying much attention, not until his voice boomed with happiness.

  “I almost didn’t recognize you! Of course I remember who you are. How are you?”

  I pulled back, still staring at myself in the mirror. I should have shaved this morning. My five o’clock shadow from yesterday made me look like I definitely should be wearing a hard hat instead of nice, pressed clothes.

  Fuck it. No time to shave now.

  My hand twisted on the cool doorknob and when I opened the door to walk through the lobby for my meeting, my ears instantly started burning.

  I heard a low, feminine voice that caused my heart to thump. It sounded just like…

  No. I’ve been through this shit before. It isn’t her.

  I knew it wasn’t.

  “Yes. Uh, I bought the house on Burbank,” the woman’s voice said. Although muffled, I could still understand her.

  My father’s voice was much louder than hers, so I could hear him clear as day. “Burbank?”

  I walked a few more feet towards the lobby and as soon as I rounded the corner, I stopped dead in my tracks. Holy. Fucking. Shit.

  Ivy’s head snapped up to mine and those vivid green eyes, that I still very much remembered, shot right through my body. I’d felt like I’d just touched an electric fence. Even my legs were tingling.

  “Hi, Dawson.” If I thought her eyes shot right through me, what did her voice just do? Am I fucking dead?

  I said nothing in response, too shell-shocked to get myself to conjure up even a grunt.

  After a few long, painful seconds had passed, I regained the ability to think again. At first, I felt like I’d just been given my life back. Like it had been stolen from me the moment she left, and she was so kindly handing it back over to me, saying, “Here ya go, Dawson, I’m back. Things can now resume to normal.”

  But, then… I felt angry. For so many fucking reasons I couldn’t even pinpoint them.

  Before I could say anything (which was probably a good thing), my father looked back at me, delight covering his tanned face.

  “Dawson, you remember Ivy Collins, right?”

  My head bounced up and down but what I wanted to say to my father was, “How the hell could I forget her? She was only my best friend for most of high school and she’s the only girl who has ever broken my heart.”

  “Yep,” I answered.

  The voice inside my head was on repeat; What is she doing here, what is she doing here, what is she doing here? And my God, why is she so perfect?

  I grunted, clearing my throat. I wouldn’t look her in the face. There was no way that I could. If I looked her in the eye, I would wind up doing one of two things: crush my arms around her frame and never let her go, or, grab her by her shoulders and shake her, asking why she’d just up and left me and never looked back.

  Both were extremely poor choices.

  “I have a meeting,” I said, casually walking toward the desk my father was sitting behind. Blueprints were spread across the top, along with pencils and pens, measurements on bright yellow sticky notes, and of course, his sunflower seeds.

  “Dawson, Ivy bought Missy Holloway’s house, over there on Burbank.”

  Jesus Christ. She’s moving back? Why did that make my heart skip a beat?

  Once again, I kept my mouth shut and I was hoping my father would get the fucking hint that I didn’t want to discuss anything at the moment. He lo
oked over at her, ignoring me while I searched around for the keys, and then rubbed the cleft in his chin, “So, that’s close to your old house then…”

  His words caused me to snap my head up in an instant. My pulse hammered in my wrist, blood rushing through my veins. Did she know?

  She didn’t meet my eye, thankfully. Instead, she brought her head down, her brown hair swaying in front of her shoulders. I hated that I could see the subtle way she flinched and I hated even more that it made my anger disappear.

  Her voice was just as soft as ever. “Um. Yeah. It’s a few streets over.”

  “So… you haven’t been over to—”

  “I gotta go,” I said, stopping my dad from asking what I knew he was going to bring up. I snatched the keys from underneath his blueprints and walked past the two of them, keeping my gaze straight on the door.

  My hand paused on the door handle when I heard my father tell her that I’d get back with her in a few days to talk about what she wanted done to her house.

  There was no fucking way that was happening.

  As I parked the company truck in the parking lot, I felt myself getting pissed all over again. I was pissed for several reasons, the main one being the fact that Ivy had just showed up like nothing was wrong. Like she hadn’t abandoned me six years ago.

  What was she thinking? That I’d welcome her back with open arms and pretend like she hadn’t fucking destroyed my heart so badly that I went an entire year without sex?

  Me, Dawson Lanning, an entire year without sex.

  Yeah, that’s how you know I was literally fucked up.

  Her voice sang in my head, “Hi, Dawson.” Like, oh, hey, long time no see there, ol’ friend. How ya been? There wasn’t even a flicker of remorse or concern in her green eyes. She just seemed casual.

  The gravel crunched beneath my leather shoes as I made my way up to the office door. The sun was setting behind the town’s high buildings in the distance which meant I was late for dinner…meaning that when I got back to my place, Breanna was going to be annoyed.