Chapter 4

Ivy- Present

"Are you listening to me, babe?"

I turn from my vanity to my boyfriend, Gray, stretched out on my bed. He's been watching me for the past few minutes and babbling on about something. And no, I'm not listening. I'm too busy painting on a bright red mouth to get ready for my shift at The Barn Door.

"Sorry, babe," I say, checking myself out and then flashing him a smile. "I was distracted. Getting my lips to look this good takes concentration. What were you saying?"

Gray's brows dip into a frown. "Why does a bartender need to look so fucking gorgeous?" he growls.

I laugh and toss my dark hair back as if his comment doesn't bite. "First of all, I'm not just any bartender. I'm the lead bartender, thank you very much." I blow him a playful kiss that I really don't feel right now.

I love Gray. He's wonderful. Handsome and protective, sweet and funny. It's just that lately, I'm restless. Is it the stress at my job? My life in general. Or am I having an existential crisis? Truth be told, I can't really tell.

Gray's face lights up in a smile, his chocolate brown eyes glow with laughter, and he sits up and leans in, pressing his lips to mine. "I stand corrected, lead bartender. I still don't see why you have to look so fucking hot to whip up cocktails for threesomes and orgies, babe."

I roll my eyes playfully, smile, and then wipe away my lipstick from his lips. I'm being silly, I tell myself. I'm not restless. Gray is great, and things with us are great. It's just what I need in my crazy life.

"It's called tips, Gray. And the better I look, the friendlier I am, the bigger my tips are. Tips are how I pay the bills."

"I get it. I just don't like it," he grumbles under his breath.

"Well, until we hit the lottery, this," I stand up and motion to my face, and then my body, clad in a tiny black skirt and a slinky red tank top, "is the money-maker. You could get a job there as well, you know."

"I'd rather ride my bike, beautiful." Then his brown eyes study me with a fair bit of heat, and my nipples go hard instantly, proving that I'm being ridiculous. He scoffs. "Are you upset that I'm patched into the Reckless Bastards now?"

I frown and check my face one more time in the mirror. "What? No!" Then I turn back to Gray and soften my tone. "I know this is what you've wanted since you were a kid. I'm proud of you. Happy for you."

"Then what's wrong? And don't say it's nothing."

I open my mouth to tell him he's being paranoid, but I can't. I refuse to lie to Gray. "I don't know. I think I need a new dream. A bigger one."

"You're not happy?" His confusion hits me like a punch to the chest.

I drop down beside him on my bed and squeeze his strong thigh. "It's not unhappy, Gray. For so long, I've been in survival mode, working hard to pay the bills, making sure Sage stays out of trouble, and everything else. Now that I'm more than just surviving, I feel…fuck babe, I don't know. God, I sound stupid and entitled."

"Not at all." Gray settles his hand on top of mine. "I get it. You're head bartender now, and that's what you've worked for since you started at The Barn Door. Sage is grown up and helping pay the bills. What else do you want?"

"Not sure. But I guess I have to figure it out, right?" I turn to him and smile, running my fingers through his thick, sable hair. "It's not you, Gray. You know that, right?"

He nods. "Of course I do. I'm great, remember?"

I grip his hair tighter and press a slower, hotter kiss to his lips, and we fall against the mattress. His hands go to my ass, sliding under my skirt. He growls when he realizes I'm wearing a thong under the skirt.

"You are pretty great," I murmur, "and I'm sorry I wasn't listening earlier."

"That kiss more than makes up for it," he says, breathless and sexy. "I was talking about my bike anyway. Your favorite topic." He laughs when I roll my eyes because he can't understand how I grew up around bikers but have no interest in motorcycles.

"You're lucky you're hot," I say, grinning. "Really fucking hot in that bad boy next door kind of way." He's tall with broad shoulders and fit as fuck with a six-pack, rock-hard pecs, and an ass that just won't quit. "Who knew you'd grow up to be so fine?"

He laughs. "Had to in order to get you to notice me."

I laugh. "It's not about noticing you, Gray. It's about you being too young until you weren't." I wiggle my brows.

"Thank fuck for that." His voice pitches low like it does when he's turned on. He pulls me closer so I can feel how hard he is everywhere. Slowly, the space between us closes, and I can smell the mint on his breath. I know he's about to lay one of those panty-melting kisses on me.

Just as my bedroom door flies open, we jump apart. Not because we're doing something we shouldn't, but just out of habit. My younger sister Sage pops her head in. A wide smile on her face that gets even bigger when she sees Gray.

"Hey, sis. My shift starts in an hour, so I won't see you until breakfast."

"You need anything?" I ask out of habit. It's been just me and Sage, for three years now since we lost our parents to a drunk driver. Once that happened, it was a series of hits that kept me moving on autopilot.

Dead parents. Lost our family home. Hell, I almost lost Sage to CPS and would have if Gray's mom, Ella Mae, and Peaches hadn't helped me every step of the way. Peaches especially has been like a mother to me since even before my own mom died.

"Nope, I'm good," Sage says with her gushy laugh. "But I won't say no to pancakes and bacon in the morning. Later!" She flashes a wide smile before disappearing as quickly as she came.

"I can give you a ride to work," Gray offers when I slip off the bed to touch up my lipstick.

"Thanks, but that's not necessary. I'll have to wake you up when my shift ends, and you need your beauty rest."

He looks disappointed but covers it quickly. "I'm young and hot. That's my beauty rest." He kisses my neck and the back of my spine. "Have a good night, Ivy."

"Thanks. Stay out of trouble," I say as he heads to the door.

"I make no promises. Call me if you need me."

"I promise," I answer and finish getting ready for my shift.

Later, much, much later, my red smile is still in place as I lock the door behind the last stragglers to leave the sex club, and I start to close up.

I tend the big bar on the main level. The customers at The Barn Door are great. They're just nice folks from all over Texas who like their orgasms with a heavy side of kink, but to me, they're just drink orders. And tips. Lots and lots of tips. They smile and make small talk while I do my thing and listen.

It works for everyone, especially me, as I count out my tips and my smile grows bigger and bigger. In the past, it's the one thing in my life that's never gone well: my finances. Now, though, things are better than ever.

I vow then and there to stop being ungrateful. I will find something else to focus on when I feel restless. Sage is older now and doesn't need me as much, and I can't make my job and my man my entire identity. I have more than enough to pay the bills and save for a rainy day, so I have no problems to speak of.

So why am I so restless?