Chasing Ivy (Oak Hill 1)

I snapped my head over to my brother. “Don’t let her go home with him, because if she’s going to be with someone… it shouldn’t be a fucking, doped-up walking STD.”

My brother gave me a knowing grin and tipped his head down, as if complying with my demand.

I watched him walk away and then I took the beer I’d ordered and chugged it, all while Max and Becca drilled their stares into the side of my head. I didn’t speak another word to either of them. Instead, I stood up and walked out of the bar, not even looking back in Ivy’s direction. I knew if I did, it would only end badly.

Chapter Nineteen

Ivy

I hated getting flowers. I knew I was an enigma. Bright, iridescent roses were delivered to me today by a young delivery boy, and while all the older women awed and oohed at the flowers gracing my desk at work, I was rolling my eyes.

Eric was like a little gnat. He wouldn’t leave me alone. He had called me several times since I’d moved back to town and I had ignored every single call.

The truth was, I was still overly pissed (and a little hurt) that he broke up with me on such a whim and now, I was even more pissed that he was filling my inbox with unnecessary text messages and leaving me voicemails out the ass.

Like, hellllooo. I don’t have time for your stupid “I miss you” texts and “Call me back, baby” voicemails. I was too wrapped up in my depression regarding Dawson.

Even the thought of Dawson made me bitter.

I hadn’t seen him since the bar the other night, and that was torturous enough. He took one look at me and then left. Like he couldn’t even stand the sight of me.

That went really well with my barely-there confidence.

The only good thing was that Breanna wasn’t with him and I really did end up having an okay night with Emmett and his friend, Kip. Although Kip was a bit handsy, we still had a good time. I danced with both of them and they bought my dinner and all my drinks, so that made up a little bit for the hurt I’d felt when I locked eyes onto Dawson.

He looked angry.

I wasn’t sure if he was angry because of what happened the other night or if he was angry because I was sitting with his brother and Kip. I doubted it was the latter, because how could he possibly be angry when he had a girlfriend?

Beats me.

I was huffing and puffing, carrying my enormous bouquet of nausea-inducing roses up my front stoop. I put them down on the porch and reached inside my purse for my keys.

No one would be working on my house tonight. Mr. Lanning had called and said they were waiting on a part for my bathroom, which was finally getting some TLC. The part wasn’t scheduled to get in until the following week.

The night after Dawson told me we couldn’t be friends was the last night he’d worked on my house. He sent back the other men the following day, and the disappointment made me eat an entire pint of Ben and Jerry’s. This is how the night went:

Me: I need ice cream because I’m depressed over a boy I used to be best friends with, who no longer wants to be my friend at all.

Also me: You’re borderline lactose intolerant, don’t do it.

Me: I’m depressed.

*eats pint*

Me one hour later: Why the fuck did I do that? Now I’m depressed and harboring a fatality-inducing stomachache.

Yeah, so I was basically pathetic. Whatever.

Just as I was putting the key into the lock on my front door, I heard footsteps behind me. I quickly spun around and my sister appeared out of thin air, her usually bright and happy face pale and drawn.

“Mia? What’s wrong? I didn’t think you were coming until later?”

I looked around for her 1999 Honda and saw it across the street. My brows furrowed as I met her solemn-looking face again.

“Mia, you’re scaring me.”

Mia didn’t even make a peep. She walked up my broken steps and took my wrist in her sweaty hand and started to drag me down the steps. I tripped, but her grip on my arm held me upright enough that I didn’t completely fall.