Chapter Six

Ivy

My mom used to say when something is becoming too much for you, Ivy, don't chalk it up as paranoia. Instead, step back and see if you need a break or to run away.

I miss her.

And in moments like this, when Rafael has spent all morning making me feel nothing but special, I can't help but feel out of place. Everything is moving so fast, and it's getting to me.

"Are you okay?" Rafael asks me.

He's beside me on the bed, still naked after he carried me here and made me go down on him. He went down on me right after, too, and then collapsed, laughing like a teenage boy. I won't say his happiness over our situation isn't contagious. But it's also all too much.

He squeezes my arm, glancing at me in concern the longer I don't say anything to him.

"Yeah, I think I just need to get home."

He nods and sits up. "Come here," he says, offering his arms to me.

"Rafael," I start to protest.

"Please, Ivy."

I give in to his request and crawl into his open arms. He draws me close, inhaling my scent as he hugs me. "You can take the day off," he says, kissing my forehead.

It's at the tip of my tongue to turn him down and tell him that I don't want to slack off at my job because we're now involved, but he cuts me off.

"I'm not taking no for an answer, now get your sweet ass out of here if you don't want me pinning you down and filling you in the next minute." He grinds his already hard dick into me for emphasis.

I playfully squeal, tap his chest, and jump off the bed. When I'm at the door, I turn to face him, a sincere smile on my face as I call his name. "Thank you," I say.

"For what?" he asks.

I shrug. He's been beyond perfect, but I'm not going to tell him that. "Bye." I wave.

"See you tomorrow."

I close the door behind me and change back into the clothes I wore last night. As I walk out of the house, I understand what it means to be doing the walk of shame. I feel as though all eyes are on me when, in reality, no one's paying me any attention.

I let out a huge breath of relief when I finally get in front of my apartment and push the door open. The first thing I'm doing is running a bath. I'm going to soak myself for at least two hours and put all my worries aside until I call Roxanne later in the day and give her the latest update.

I received more than ten messages from her this morning already. I only responded to one, assuring her that I'm still alive.

Forgetting that my sister is around, I start to remove my clothes at the entrance.

"Someone's had a busy night," her voice comes from the couch in the middle of the room.

I freeze, trying to think of what to tell her. She doesn't come home that frequently. I was at dinner with Rafael when her message came in last night, informing me she was around. I had to tell her I was out and would be back soon. I didn't remember to inform her I wouldn't be making it home after all.

Shit.

"Where were you?" she asks in a tone that would easily make anyone think she's older than me. But she's not. She's five years younger than I am. She rarely acts her age, though. At nineteen, Tara's ambitious. Her lifelong dream has always been to be a nurse, and even though it puts big holes in my account, I'm funding that dream.

"I was out," I say.

She doesn't so much as blink at my words.

"Yeah, I figured. With who?" She gets on her feet, looking at me sternly as she puts her hands on her hips.

I scoff.

"Don't give me that look or attitude, young lady, sit your ass back down."

Fine. "Look, I was out with a friend, okay? I lost track of time and couldn't make it home. Sorry, I didn't tell you."

"That doesn't sound like you, Ivy. I remember the last time you partied; it was at my high school graduation, and you spent most of the evening trying to get me home early by lecturing me about the importance of a good night's sleep."

"So?"

"So you were out all night without telling me, and I was here, worried out of my mind! That's unlike you. You wouldn't have spent the night if you weren't comfortable with the person; at least, that's what I had to tell myself to remain calm."

Sighing, I move close and get her to sit with me. Taking her hand in mine, I decided to give her half the truth. "I started seeing someone recently."

"I knew it!" She squeals, her arms wrapping around my neck in excitement. "Oh my God, Ivy, I'm so happy for you. Finally, you're living again."

Her words have me getting defensive. "Are you saying I haven't been living all this time because I didn't have a man in my life?"

She pulls back away from me and sits, her smile still broad. "Tell me everything," she says, ignoring my questions.

Fine.

Instead of soaking myself in a bath like I'd planned, I spend the rest of the day visiting with my sister. I can't tell her the details of my relationship with Rafael or that he's my boss. I tell her everything else—the sex, the dinner, the breakfast, the oral sex afterward.

She's excited. And I'm happy too, we have something to discuss after a long time.

Our relationship isn't bad, but it's not at its best either. I'd let the weight of my responsibilities wane out my high spirit. However, with the new assurance that comes with my relationship with Rafael, I feel better.

Maybe there's nothing to worry about after all.

***

When I get to work the next morning, I'm surprised to find Rafael still in. The moment I open the door, he catches me by the waist and lifts me into the air for a twirl. I giggle, slapping at his shoulder to let me down after a while.

"Good morning, beautiful."

"Hello to you, too."

He kisses me, and I let myself savor the beautiful feeling he's invoking. Soon, the kiss is over as fast as it started. "I have to go," he murmurs against my lips.

I sigh, wanting more than anything to lock the door behind us and never to leave again. Being with him gives me a new sense of peace I've never had before. "Okay," I mumble.

"You don't want me to go?" he asks.

"No," I say, not bothering to hide my feelings.

"I don't want to go either, baby. But I've got work. We can see each other tonight, though. I have an event I'm attending tonight, and I'd be beyond happy if you'd honor me as my plus one."

More than anything, I want to say no. I've never been to any charity event in my life. I don't even have an idea of what to wear. But the eager look on his face makes me say yes. "All right. See you tonight." He kisses me quickly, then rushes out of the house.

He hasn't been gone for an hour when the doorbell rings. I go to answer it, wondering who it could be. The house is invaded by strings of people the moment I open the door. It turns out that Rafael hired a personal stylist and makeup artist to help me get ready for the gala.

I tell them I'm not due to get dressed for another few hours. They just smile and whisk me into Rafael's room, where they have me spend the better part of the day changing into different clothes.

By the time the day rolls into the evening, I have more clothes that I may never get to wear. I've been put through a full body makeover, and the woman I'm looking at in the mirror looks nothing like me.

"Wow," Rafael says from behind me.

He returned from work early but wasn't allowed to enter his room until I was ready. I had to tell him what I'd like to wear to the overzealous stylist.

"You're too beautiful to remain in my arms for one night. Stay with me forever."

I giggle at his words, knowing he's just messing with me. Somehow, his words pull at the strings in my heart. What would life be like forever with him?

Through the drive to the event, Rafael keeps me talking about my day, something I know he's doing to help me not lose my shit. I'm nervous as hell.

We finally arrive at the event. Rafael told me the gala is hosted by one of the big donors funding a project for his company. As we walk in, camera lights left and right flash at us. I try not to focus on it and instead focus on his voice.

He's now telling me about his day. His hand is on my waist, gently holding me. He's soon ripped away from me, though. Immediately after he gets us a seat, he's bombarded by strings of questions from other people at our table.

No one asks any questions about me. No one acknowledges me. It makes me feel invisible and unwanted. I've always known him and I aren't on the same social level. But it still hurts to be ignored by the people in his circle.

At some point, I start thinking of how to escape, which comes as an excuse to get another drink. But Rafael, a gentleman to the core, offers to get me the drink, leaving me to the vultures. The eyes I thought found me invisible all turn to me the moment he walks away.

Gulping, I try to not cower under their gaze. If I'm ever going to make a place for myself among them, now's the chance. So I smile at all of them, and say hi to a few. Some respond, many don't. I don't let any of the ill attitudes get to me.

"Who do you think you are flaunting yourself in his arms like that?"

The words come from behind me. Glancing, I turn to see a beautiful blonde with perfect skin standing over me. I stand up to meet her.

"I'm not sure I know you. I'm Ivy Rogers. And you are?" I offer her my hand, plastering a smile on my face.

"No one that'll ever take your hand. What is Raf doing with someone like you," she sneers.

I pause at her words. Raf. Someone like me? There's more to this girl. "Who are you to him?" I ask.

"The woman he was stupid enough to let go. But he's going to come crawling back to me soon enough. I don't care if it takes him twenty years to realize it. I'll wait. He's mine. So run along and stop trying to fit where you don't belong."

All I can do is gape at her, unable to form words. Her audacity is out of this world.

Rafael's arms come behind me, his height feeling like a shield over me. "Everything okay here? Tamara, I didn't think you'd be here," he states.

Tamara doesn't speak, but from the smile on her face, I have a feeling she soon will. I need to stake my claim.

Turning to face him, I grab the drinks in his hands and drop them on the table. He watches me in surprise, his eyes lightening up in understanding when I return to him and wrap my hand around his neck just before I pull his head down so our mouths can meet.

Take that, Tamara. Shove your opinion of me where the sun doesn't shine. He's never going to be yours!