Authors: Amber Garza
“Oh
, my god,” a familiar voice breaks through the moment. “Ivy.”
My heart stops.
“Don’t lay another hand on her!” His voice is hard now, commanding.
My mom freezes
, her fingers releasing their hold. I allow my chest to expand.
It’s over. I’m okay
. With tears in my eyes, I scurry around Mom and run right into Asher’s arms. His muscles tighten around my trembling body, and I bury my face in his shirt. Gripping the fabric, I hold on for dear life, hoping I never have to let go. No one’s ever stopped it before. No one’s ever saved me from her. Not since my dad was alive. Asher may end up hating me at some point, but right now I need him to hold me. Right now I need to believe it will all be okay.
“You will never lay a hand on her again, do you understand?” Asher’s voice is harsher than I’ve ever heard.
My mom laughs bitterly. “Mind your own business, son. This is a family issue.”
“Ivy is my business. You will not touch her again or you’ll have to deal with me.”
“You have no idea what I’ve had to put up with. You have no idea what kind of person she is. Sure, you’re under her spell now. That’s what she does. She ropes guys in. But believe me, she’s not worth it. She brought this on herself.”
I shove away from Asher. I can’t listen anymore. Not with Asher
here. Clutching my middle, I fear that I’ll throw up. Without looking at Asher or my mom, I race out of the house. By the time I get to my car tears are streaming down my cheeks and my whole face hurts.
“Ivy, wait.” Asher jogs after me.
“Just go, Asher,” I choke out. “I appreciate you helping me, but I just can’t do this.”
“Ives.” He tucks his finger under my chin and lifts my head to look at him. When I try to step backward, he wraps his hand around my wrist. “Don’t run from me. Please.”
“I can’t look at you now that you know.” I stare at the ground, shame filling me.
“Your mom has no right to treat you like that, Ives.” He pulls me to him and I fall against his chest. His fingers swirl in my hair.
“She’s right.” My voice is muffled against his chest. “I deserve it.”
“No, you don’t. None of this is your fault.
” He lets go of me, and reaches for my hand. I allow him to thread his fingers through mine, if for no other reason than to steady myself. “C’mon, let’s go get you cleaned up.”
I hesitate. “It’s okay. I can get myself home.”
Asher shakes his head. “I’m not leaving you tonight, Ives, so stop trying to push me away.”
“Ivy!” Billie shrieks the minute Asher and I enter the apartment. I’m still clinging to his arm as if my life depends on it. The horror on my friend’s face causes my chest to tighten. “
What happened to you?”
Asher shakes his head. “She needs some space right now, Billie. Let me get her cleaned up
, and then she can explain everything.”
Billie nods, concern cloaking her face. “Okay.” Her hand lights on my arm. “I’m just glad you’re alright.”
I try to grin, but my face feels tight. Asher guides me back to my room, keeping a steadying hand on my back. It feels good to lean on his strength. For a minute I wonder why I didn’t just tell him sooner, but then Mom’s words ring through my mind. I destroy people, it’s what I do. I’m poisonous, just like poison ivy.
When I go into the bathroom to wash my face, I assess the damage. It’s really not that bad, just some bruising. No skin was broken
, and for that I’m grateful. When I go back into my room, Asher hands me an ice pack, and then sits on my bed. I hold the ice pack against my face, and sit next to him.
“Weren’t you the one using this ice pack last time?” I joke, and he smiles back.
“I hate seeing you like this,” Asher says, and it makes me feel bad that he’s involved.
“I gu
ess you’ve been right all along,” I say, picking at a thread on my bedspread with one hand while holding the ice pack with the other. “I really am poison.”
“Ivy.” Asher reaches out his hand and gently touches my arm. Chills skitter up my flesh. “That’s not how
I meant it.”
I shake my head. “It doesn’t matter how you meant it. It’s the truth.”
Asher smiles, his fingers closing around mine. “When I was little I went on a camping trip with my parents. My dad and I were out hiking when he pointed out this plant and told me it was poison ivy and that I shouldn’t touch it. So, of course what was the first thing I did?” He searches my face, and I let out a light laugh. If there’s anything I know about Asher it’s that he never does what he’s told. “I touched the plant. Later I got a horrible rash. It spread all over my body and itched for days.”
I cock an eyebrow
, lowering the ice pack. “So, you call me poison ivy because I’m like, what? A horrible rash?” This is getting worse by the minute.
One side of Asher’s mouth lifts
, and my heart melts the way it always does when he flashes one of his half smiles at me.
“No. I
call you poison ivy because I’ve been fascinated by you since the moment I first saw you. And after the first time I touched you it was like I couldn’t get enough. Like you were under my skin.” He moves closer, grazing my cheek with the back of his hand. “It’s like you’ve infected me.”
This stops me cold. “Infected? That sounds awful.”
His eyes darken. His face is so close to mine I can feel his breath on my face. My heart picks up speed. I drop the ice pack on the bed. He tucks a strand of my hair behind my ear. “Ives, you know I’m no good at this. I suck at trying to explain my feelings.”
I swallow hard as his face nears mine.
“But what I’m trying to say is that I’ve never felt like this about anyone before.” He tilts his face, and I hold my breath. His lips brush over mine, gently at first, like the sweep of a feather. I close my eyes, my palms clamming up, my heart beating wildly. He pulls back just long enough to look into my eyes. “You okay with this, Ives?”
I barely have time to nod
before his lips press against mine again. Only this time they close over mine with a firmness that is so unlike before. I part my lips, drinking in the feel of him, the taste of him. His arms rake up my back, his fingers tangling in my hair. Dizzy, I reach for him, wrapping my arms around his waist. I don’t want him to stop. I don’t want this moment to end.
20
Asher
Kissing Ivy is even better than I had dreamed. Her lips are the softest I’ve ever felt, and the way her mouth molds to mine is so comfortable it’s like we were made to do this together. It’s unlike anything I’ve felt, and it makes me wish I’d never kissed anyone before her. All previous kisses pale in comparison to this moment. She melts beneath me, parting her lips and allowing me to explore her mouth. It’s more than I had hoped for and I breathe her in, determined to savor every minute of this.
This entire night has thrown me for a loop.
I was not prepared for what I saw when I got to Ivy’s house. When I heard the struggle inside, I fully expected to walk in on Frank attacking Ivy. Nothing could’ve prepared me for seeing her mom hurting her. She’s never said anything bad about her mom before. Then again, she never really said anything good about her either. She pretty much never talked about her mom at all. I didn’t think it was odd because none of us really talk about our moms. However, now thinking back over our friendship, I guess the signs were there. She did always seem overly worried about getting in trouble, and she got grounded more than most kids I know, even though she rarely did anything wrong.
When our lips part, I run my fingers along the bruises forming on her cheek. “Ives, I wish you had told me sooner.”
Her eyes fall to her lap. “I just couldn’t. I’ve never told anyone. It’s too humiliating.”
“There’s nothing for you to be ashamed of. Your mom’s the one who should feel bad, not you.”
“Please don’t tell anyone, okay?” She drops back on her bed, her hair splaying across her pillow.
I rest on my side, propping
myself up on my elbow. “I won’t, but I also won’t ever let you go over there by yourself again.”
“What are you going to do? Drop out of school and become my own personal bodyguard?”
“If it comes to that.”
Her face grows serious. “No. This is exactly what I didn’t want to happen. I can’t let you give up everything for me again.”
“This isn’t your choice.” I lean down, my fingers trailing up her arm until they touch her neck. She shivers, and licks her lips. I cradle the back of her head catching her mouth in mine, and she arches her back to meet me. Curling one hand around her waist, I pull her against me, darting my tongue inside her mouth and tasting how sweet she is. Her fingers dance along my back, igniting desire deep inside me. “If I’m with you, Ives, I’m not giving up anything. You’re all I want,” I speak against her mouth, our breath mingling together.
“Asher,” she protests, but it lacks her usual fire.
I brush her hair away from her face. “Listen, we don’t have to figure everything out tonight. Let’s just be in the moment, okay?”
Ivy locks eyes with me, and she slowly nods.
“What do you want?” I ask her.
“I want you to kiss me.”
This elicits a smile from me. “You don’t have to ask me twice. I’ve wanted to do this since the moment we met.”
“Me too.” H
er breath is hot against mine, and her words cause my heart to soar. I stroke her face and lean in for another kiss. After several more minutes of kissing, Ivy pulls away from me and yawns behind her hand. I press my lips to her forehead, inhaling her floral scent.
“You’re tired. You should get some sleep,” I say, my lips feathering against her skin.
She reaches for me, grabbing fistfuls of my shirt. “You’re not leaving, are you?”
“Not if you want me to stay.” I’ve never seen Ivy need me like this. To be honest, I’m surprised she hasn’t
pushed me away yet.
“Stay,” she says quietly. Then she nestles into me, closing her eyes. I wrap my arms
around her body, holding her flush against my chest. I curve myself around her until we fit together perfectly. Then I rest my head against the pillow and watch Ivy’s beautiful face as she sleeps.
I awake to Ivy stirring. Her eyelids flutter and then she rolls over to face me. For a moment I see shock in h
er expression, but then her features smooth out as if she just remembers the previous night.
I touch her face.
We’re both fully clothed and lying on the top of her bed. It’s not exactly how I hoped our first night together would be, but I’ll take it. “Good morning.”
She smiles
, and it lights up her whole face. “I think that’s the best night’s sleep I’ve ever had.”
I drop a kiss on her head
, and her hair sticks to my dry lips. “Well, I can make this a permanent thing if you want.”
She pushes herself up to a sitting position. “Don’t tempt me.”
“You can tempt me anytime.” I wink.
“And there’s the Asher I know so well.” She runs her fingers through her hair. “I was wondering when he’d make his reappearance.”
“Missed him, huh?”
She looks at me a minute, her hand resting on my arm. “Thank you for last night, Asher.”
My stomach tightens. I know what’s going to happen next. She’s going to close up again. I run my finger along her jaw line. “You don’t have to thank me, Ives. I would do anything for you, you know that.”
“I know.” Her voice sounds sad, resigned.
I lift her chin and cover my mouth with hers. When I pull back, something sharp sticks me in the back. Reaching behind me, I yank it out and hold it in my hand. “Is this your notebook? The one you used to write in all the time in high school?”
Ivy’s face reddens
, and she reaches for the tattered notebook. “Here. Give it back.”
I grin, moving it out of her reach. “Why? What’s in it? Is it like a diary? Do you have juicy things about me in there?”
“No, Asher, just give it to me.” Her face looks desperate, and she lunges for the notebook.
I fear upsetting her to the point where she’ll
close up on me again, so I release the notebook. She snatches it between her fingers and crushes it to her chest, hugging it tightly to her body.
“Wow, now I’m really curious to know what’s in it,” I joke to lighten the mood.
Ivy swallows hard, sliding off the bed. “It’s nothing. Just some stories.”
“Like short stories?” I turn to watch her as she drops the notebook on the top of her dresser.
“Not really,” her voice falters. “They’re sort of articles. Like about things that happen around town and stuff.” She fidgets with the bottom of her shirt. “It’s totally lame, but I just figure it's good practice and if I ever decide to apply for a freelance position I should have some writing samples.”
“It doesn’t sound lame at all. It’s smart. I’m sure you’ll make an amazing journalist one day.”