Chasing Ivy (Oak Hill 1)

“Why she hated me after you left. I knew that she knew where you were, but she was so fucking angry at me. Did she tell you she slapped me?”

I choked out a laugh and then threw my hand over my mouth to silence it. Then I mumbled, through my fingers, “Yes. I’m sorry.”

Suddenly he paused, his face actually twisting like he was in pain. He roughly ran a hand through his chocolate waves and locked his blue eyes onto mine. “I’m sorry I hurt you, Ivy.”

My heart stuttered in my chest as I stood and stared into them. How could six words affect me so deeply? Like they had some magic healing power.

Maybe it wasn’t exactly the words that affected me so much; maybe it was just the person speaking them. I faked a smile although I knew he could see right through it.

“It’s fine. It was just a big mess. All under the rug now.”

“Yeah…” he said, and then he quickly turned around and started to dig into the bag he had been carrying.

After he’d dug out some plates and I’d found what was inside the mystery bag (chili fries from our all-time favorite restaurant, Ronnie’s), Dawson got to work on measuring some of the projects in my house. They were fixing the wall, starting tomorrow, to open up the living room and dining room, and then they’d work on the master bath and put in new floors everywhere. It wasn’t all of the work I wanted done, but in order to stay in my budget I needed to take baby steps.

“Hey, I’ve been meaning to ask…” I piped up from sitting Indian style on my hardwood floor, watching his jaw tick back and forth as he jotted down different notes and dimensions.

“Yeah?”

“How are your parents? I know I saw your dad, but how is your mom?”

Dawson’s eyes flew up to mine, a pencil tucked behind his ear and a tape measure in one hand. “I keep forgetting that you’ve been so shut off from this town that you know, like, nothing.” His eyes swayed from mine a bit, showing he was conflicted about something. “My parents got divorced a few years back.”

Oh shit. Way to go, Ivy. Should have just stayed with the easy topics like last week.

“Oh, gosh. I’m so sorry, Dawson. I didn’t know.”

He waved his hand. “It’s fine. It actually worked out. They’re better apart than they are together…”

I scrunched my eyebrows. “How so?”

I studied Dawson as he scribbled something down on his notepad and then as he tucked the pencil back behind his ear. The muscles in his forearm taunted me, as they moved swiftly with each motion he made. In my head I wiped the drool off my chin.

“Hey, come here for a sec. I need you to hold something while I measure.”

I jumped up from my feet, eager to be closer to him… I mean, eager to help. Help. He just needs some help, Ivy.

“And to answer your question,” he stated, “my mom and dad are just more present now. Like, when they were married, they were so focused on their jobs and beating one another at being successful that they forgot they had kids.” His soft chuckle filled the room. “Once they got divorced, they seemed to have more of an interest in Emmett and I than fighting with one another.”

I nodded my head understandingly. “That’s great, Dawson. I can remember that they weren’t home a whole lot when we were younger.”

“Yeah. Here, hold this up there.”

Dawson laid a yellow tape measure at one end of the wall that was still standing (even after I’d tried to take it down, adding that to my DYI fail list later) and then had me hold it up while he ran it across to the other side. I watched him the entire antagonizing time.

The way his tongue darted out to lick his lips while he was concentrating. The way his brow furrowed as he scribbled a number down on the paper. Then the way he sauntered over to me, stopping only inches away from my body. I turned my attention forward, looking past the single piece of wood that was still left, and stared into the darkened dining room.

I could feel the heat radiating off his body, bouncing right onto mine. I could also feel the racing of my heart from our close quarters. I tried not to smell him, but I did. I smelled that familiar scent of Axe deodorant and it made a tiny smile spread along my cheeks. It was so familiar, and it was so nice to not have to push away an unwelcome memory of him.

Still standing beside me, Dawson reached his hand up and touched my two fingers, holding up the tape measure. It was barely a nudge, but the feel of his fingers on mine set my entire hand on fire. I jolted my head to where he stood and met his intense stare.

His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down and then he opened that beautiful mouth. “I just need to see the two numbers that your fingers are covering.” Dawson’s normal tone was long gone and in its place was something along the lines of raspy and husky, all wrapped up into one hypnotic sound.

That’s what I was. Hypnotized. Like I couldn’t even understand what he was telling me to do because his voice had my nerve endings standing straight up, razor sharp.

Dawson licked his lips and a source of eagerness crawled down over my shoulders, all the way to the heels of my feet.

My eyes fell to his lips, and my mouth opened in response. Wow. It’d been six years and just the mere sight of him licking his lips, standing this close, instantly had me reliving my best fifteen-year-old memory all over again.