Unwrapped (Sugar & Spice #1)

9. Ivy

Chapter 9

Ivy

T he excitement bubbling in my chest makes it hard to focus on anything else. My stomach is doing somersaults, and my heart feels like it’s trying to race out of my chest as I move around my apartment. I’m going to see Asher again tonight. It’s silly how giddy I feel, like a teenager getting ready for a date, but I can’t help it. I’ve replayed last night in my head so many times, it’s become almost like a movie reel.

I close my eyes for a moment, leaning against the counter. His hands, the warmth of his touch, the way he looked at me like I was the only person in the world. I smile to myself, feeling the heat rise to my cheeks just thinking about how everything between us felt so easy, so right. Tonight, I’ll be back at his place, and the anticipation makes me feel like I’m floating on air.

But the excitement is threaded with a touch of anxiety, the nagging voice in the back of my head that wonders if maybe last time was just a fluke, something magical that won’t last in the harsh light of day.

What if tonight feels different? What if I’m overthinking all of this?

I glance at the clock. I still have a couple of hours before I’m supposed to head over, so I grab my apron and decide to bake. It’s one of the few things that calms my nerves and helps me focus when my thoughts start to spiral. Plus, Asher said he loves gingerbread, so maybe I can surprise him with a batch.

I pull out the ingredients, and before long, the sweet, spicy scent of gingerbread fills the kitchen. Mixing the dough, cutting out the shapes, and carefully placing them on the baking sheet helps to settle my jittery energy. But no matter how much I try to distract myself, my mind keeps wandering back to him. To us.

This morning, when I left his place, we didn’t make any promises or declarations. There was no awkwardness, just a quiet understanding that whatever this was between us, it wasn’t over. And tonight, I’d be stepping back into his world—his sleek, polished world that feels so different from mine, but that somehow made me feel like I belonged, at least for those moments with him.

I peek into the oven, the golden edges of the cookies just starting to crisp. They’re turning out perfectly. My phone buzzes on the counter, and my heart skips a beat when I see his name.

Asher

Can’t wait to see you tonight. Miss you already.

I sit at my kitchen counter, staring at Asher's latest text when a memory hits me so hard I nearly drop my phone. It was when we were studying Macbeth, after Asher’s dagger scene.

Senior year. Advanced English. The Shakespeare project that never was.

My hands shake slightly as I remember that day, how I'd spent hours getting ready. I'd even borrowed Tessa's lucky sweater - the soft blue one she swore made everyone fall in love with her. The project guidelines still float through my mind with perfect clarity: "Explore the theme of appearance versus reality in Macbeth."

God, I'd been so excited. Three hours of uninterrupted time with Asher Mercer in the library after school. I'd practically memorized the play, desperate to impress him with my analysis.

I'd arrived early, claiming our favorite table by the window. The autumn sunlight had streamed in, warming the wooden surface as I spread out my color-coded notes. My heart had been racing, palms sweaty as I watched the clock tick closer to 3:30.

But he never showed.

Jessica Martin had bounced over around 4:00, twirling her cheerleader skirt as she informed me, "Oh, Asher's out sick today. Didn't you hear?"

I remember packing up my notes with trembling fingers, trying to hide my disappointment. I'd worked through the project alone that weekend, pushing aside the ache in my chest. When Monday came, I'd stood in front of the class solo, presenting our - my - analysis while Asher sat in the back row, still looking a bit pale.

He'd caught me after class, apologizing profusely. "I'm so sorry, Ivy. I had this awful stomach bug..."

I'd waved it off, maintaining my dignity. "No worries. These things happen."

But I'd kept those notes, tucked away in a folder marked "Shakespeare Project." They're probably still in my parents' attic, filled with all the observations I'd wanted to share with him, all the questions I'd planned to ask.

Sixteen-year-old me had been crushed. But now, sitting here with his text lighting up my phone, I can't help but smile at the irony. Maybe some things are worth waiting for.

My cheeks flush, and I bite my lip, feeling that giddy warmth spread through me again. It’s hard to believe that this is the same man who always seemed so untouchable—this larger-than-life figure who somehow made me feel like I was the only one who mattered when we were together.

Ivy

I’m bringing a surprise, so I hope you’re ready.

I add a little winking emoji, feeling playful. It’s strange how easily I’ve fallen into this rhythm with him, teasing, flirting—it feels like a game, one I’m more than happy to play.

I finish up the baking and pack the gingerbread cookies into a small tin, wrapping it with a festive bow. It’s not much, but I know Asher will appreciate the effort. My excitement builds again as I get ready, slipping into something casual but nice—a sweater dress and some black thigh boots. It’s nothing too fancy, but it’s comfortable and feels like me. A step up from my usual jeans, plus it hugs my hips and paired with the boots, it gives me a confidence boost.

Before long, I’m out the door, the tin of cookies tucked under my arm as I make my way to Asher’s place. The snow has started to fall again, big, soft flakes that drift down slowly, coating the city in a pristine layer of white. The air is cold, but my heart feels warm, filled with the anticipation of seeing him again.

As I approach his building, my nerves return, but in the best way—the kind of fluttering excitement that comes when you’re about to step into something you’ve been waiting for. I buzz up, and almost immediately, Asher’s deep, familiar voice comes through the intercom.

“Hey, Ivy. Come on up.”

The door buzzes open, and I step inside, my pulse quickening. The elevator ride feels like it takes forever, and I take a deep breath, reminding myself to just be me.

When the doors slide open and I step out, Asher is already waiting for me. He leans casually against the doorway of his apartment, looking effortlessly handsome in a black sweater and jeans. His face breaks into a slow, warm smile the moment he sees me, and my heart stumbles over itself.

“You’re a sight for sore eyes,” he says, his voice low and full of that teasing charm that makes my stomach do flips.

“I could say the same about you,” I reply, trying to keep my cool, though my insides are practically vibrating with excitement.

He steps forward, reaching for the tin in my hands. “Is this my surprise?”

“Maybe,” I say with a grin. “You’ll have to open it and see.”

He takes the tin from me, his fingers brushing against mine as he does, sending a warm shiver through me. His eyes linger on mine for just a moment longer than necessary before he opens the tin and inhales deeply. “Gingerbread. I love gingerbread.”

“I remember,” I say, feeling pleased with myself.

He reaches out and takes my hand, pulling me gently into the apartment. “You didn’t have to do this, you know,” he says, setting the tin down on the counter, “but I’m glad you did.”

There’s a softness in his voice that makes my heart swell, and before I can stop myself, I step closer, wrapping my arms around his waist. He doesn’t hesitate—his arms slide around me, pulling me tight against him, and for a moment, we just stand there, holding each other.

“I missed you,” I whisper against his chest, the words slipping out before I can think twice.

“I missed you too,” he replies, his lips brushing the top of my head. He pulls back slightly, his hand coming up to tilt my chin so that I’m looking up at him. His gaze is intense, but there’s something vulnerable in it, something that makes my heart beat faster. “I’ve been thinking about you… about us.”

I nod, feeling that same vulnerability rising up in me, but I don’t want to run from it. Not tonight. “Me too.”

Asher’s eyes flick down to my lips, and before I can say anything else, he leans in, capturing my mouth in a slow, deliberate kiss. It’s gentle at first, almost hesitant, but when I respond, when I press into him, it deepens. His arms tighten around me, and I feel the tension between us start to melt away, replaced by that electric connection we’ve had since the beginning.

When we finally pull back, breathless, Asher rests his forehead against mine, his fingers lightly tracing the line of my jaw. “Ivy… I don’t want this to just be a fling.”

His words hang in the air between us, heavy and full of meaning. My heart skips a beat, and I realize that I don’t want that either. This, whatever this is, feels real. It feels right.

“Neither do I,” I say softly, my voice steady, even though my heart is racing. “I’m not sure where this is going, but I want to find out.”

He smiles, that genuine, heart-melting smile that makes me feel like maybe, just maybe, I’ve found something real.

“Good,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to my forehead, “because I’m not ready to let you go.”

And just like that, the excitement and nervous energy I felt earlier fades, replaced by a quiet sense of certainty. This is the start of something new, something I didn’t expect, but something I’m more than ready to dive into—cookies, nerves, and all.

The tension between us settles into something comfortable as Asher holds me close. His words—I’m not ready to let you go—echo in my mind, and I feel a flutter of hope in my chest. It feels surreal, like maybe the lines of reality and some perfect fantasy are blurring, but in the best way possible.

He releases me, but not entirely, his hand sliding down my arm until his fingers lightly hold mine. “Come on, let’s sit down,” he says softly, guiding me over to the couch. The room is lit softly, the glow of the fireplace giving everything a cozy, intimate feel. It’s as if the rest of the world has disappeared, leaving just the two of us in this quiet, perfect bubble.

I settle onto the couch, my nerves easing the moment Asher sits next to me. He turns slightly, his knee brushing against mine, and I can feel the warmth of his presence radiating through the small space between us. It’s like a magnetic pull, drawing us closer, even when we’re already so close.

“So,” he says, leaning back, a playful smile tugging at his lips, “tell me more about this surprise. Should I be flattered that you baked for me?”

I laugh, feeling a bit more at ease now, the anxiety that had been bubbling under the surface slowly fading. “You should be very flattered,” I tease, nudging his knee with mine. “Not everyone gets special gingerbread cookies from me. Consider yourself lucky.”

His eyes gleam with amusement. “Oh, I definitely do. Lucky and maybe a little spoiled.” He leans in slightly, his voice dropping to a lower, more intimate tone. “I could get used to this.”

The way he says it, with that flirtatious edge, sends a shiver down my spine. “Don’t get too used to it,” I reply, though my voice comes out softer, breathier than I expected. “I might have to keep you on your toes.”

His grin widens, and he reaches out, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear. The touch is so simple, but it feels so intimate. “I like that idea,” he murmurs, “but for the record, I’m happy to be spoiled by you.”

The air between us shifts again, the playful flirting giving way to something deeper. His hand lingers near my face, his thumb brushing against my cheek, and I can feel my heart start to race. It’s as if everything we’ve been skirting around—the attraction, the connection, the uncertainty—is crystallizing in this moment.

I don’t want to break the spell, but I can’t help the question that rises to my lips. “What are we doing, Asher?”

He doesn’t pull away. If anything, he seems to lean in closer, his gaze steady and sincere as he searches my face. “I’ve been asking myself that same question,” he admits softly, his fingers still gently tracing my skin. “I don’t have all the answers. But I know that I don’t want this to be casual. I don’t want you to be just another part of my life that I drift away from.”

His words sink in, making my heart swell with something that feels dangerously close to hope. “I don’t want that either,” I confess, my voice barely a whisper.

He exhales, like he’s relieved to hear me say it, and then he cups my face with both hands, his expression more serious than I’ve ever seen it. “I know I can’t promise everything will be easy. My life’s… complicated. But I want to try. I want to figure this out with you, Ivy.”

There’s a sincerity in his voice that melts the last of my defenses. For so long, I’ve kept myself guarded, afraid of being hurt, afraid of letting someone in. But here he is, laying it all out there, offering me the very thing I’ve been too scared to admit I want.

“I want that too,” I say, and the moment the words leave my mouth, I feel lighter, like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders. “I don’t need everything figured out right now. I just want… this. You and me. Whatever this turns into.”

He smiles then, the kind of smile that reaches his eyes, making them crinkle at the corners. “That sounds perfect to me.”

Before I can say anything else, he pulls me closer, his lips finding mine in a slow, deliberate kiss. It’s soft and sweet, needy and possessive all at once. I respond instantly, sinking into him, feeling the warmth of his body as his hands slip around my waist, holding me close.

We kiss like that for a while, unhurried and deep, each touch filled with a tenderness that makes my chest tighten. When we finally pull back, both of us breathless, I can’t help the smile that tugs at my lips.

“What?” he asks, his own grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“Nothing,” I murmur, shaking my head slightly, “it’s just… I feel really happy right now. And I didn’t think I’d be saying that.”

His thumb brushes lightly over my lower lip, his gaze soft but intense. “I’m glad,” he says quietly, leaning in to kiss me again, slower this time, like he’s savoring the moment.

When we break apart, he pulls me against his chest, and I rest my head against him, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath my cheek. For a while, we sit like that, wrapped in each other, the soft glow of the fireplace casting shadows across the room.

I close my eyes, letting myself relax fully for the first time in what feels like forever. I don’t know what tomorrow holds, but right now, in this moment, I’m content. I’m with him, and that’s all that matters.

After a few minutes of comfortable silence, Asher’s fingers start to play with my hair, his voice soft and playful as he says, “You know, if this gingerbread is as good as I think it’ll be, you might have to come over and bake for me more often.”

I laugh, rolling my eyes as I tilt my head up to look at him. “Oh, I see. This is all about getting more cookies out of me, isn’t it?”

He grins, his hand still tangled in my hair as he leans down to kiss the tip of my nose. “Hey, I didn’t say that. But if that’s the perk of seeing you more, then I’m not complaining.”

I shake my head, laughing softly as I snuggle back into him, feeling that familiar warmth spread through me again. “Well, I guess I can’t deny a man his gingerbread cookies.”

“Good,” he says, his voice full of that playful charm again, “because I plan on keeping you around for a while. But right now…” He nips my lip. “I’m in the mood for a totally different kind of cookie.”

The words are lighthearted, but there’s something deeper behind them, something that makes my heart skip a beat. I squeeze his hand, feeling the weight of his promise, and for once, I let myself believe it. Believe that this—whatever it is—might be exactly what I’ve been waiting for.

“Yeah?” It’s barely an audible word, his lips and tongue already doing things to me that have me feeling like I’m floating over my body in pure ecstasy.

I stretch, my body sore from another night of Asher leaving me completely spent and exhausted. The tinges of pain are delicious. I unbutton my shirt a little, pulling my bra down to see the purple outline of his teeth against my pale skin.

My body shivers and I glance at my phone again, half expecting another message from him, but nothing has come through yet. He dropped me off at home a couple of hours ago, giving me a sweet, lingering kiss at the door before heading out to deal with some work emergency. I could still feel the heat of his lips on mine and his lingering promise, “ I’ll see you soon ,” echoing in my head.

The knock at the door pulls me from my thoughts, and I sit up, heart fluttering a little until I realize it’s probably Tessa. She had texted earlier, saying she wanted to stop by after work to talk about the plans.

I pad over to the door and open it, finding Tessa grinning at me with two paper cups of coffee in hand. “Thought you might need a pick-me-up after the day you’ve had,” she says, stepping inside and handing me a cup.

“You have no idea,” I reply, accepting the cup gratefully. I close the door behind her and follow her back to the couch, where she promptly plops down and kicks off her shoes. I know she’s been dying to ask me since I first told her Asher and I went to the Christmas market together.

“So,” Tessa says, wiggling her eyebrows as she takes a sip of her coffee, “spill. How was it with Mr. CEO last night? Did he like the cookies?”

I laugh, shaking my head. “I knew you were going to start with that.”

“Of course I am!” she says, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. “Don’t leave me hanging! You’ve been all dreamy-eyed for days now.”

I roll my eyes but can’t stop the smile that creeps across my face. “Okay, fine. It was… really good. We talked about a lot of things, and, well… he wants to help with the bakery.”

Tessa blinks, surprised. “Wait, what? Help how?”

I bite my lip, feeling a mix of excitement and hesitation. “He wants to be an investor. Like, a serious one. He said he believes in what we’re doing, and he wants to put money into it, help us grow.”

Tessa’s mouth falls open slightly, and for a moment, she’s quiet, processing. Then she sets her coffee down and leans in, her eyes wide. “Whoa. That’s… huge, Ivy. But are we really going to let Asher Mercer be our investor? What if things get weird? What if this thing with you two doesn’t work out?”

I nod, understanding her hesitation because I’ve had the same thoughts myself. “I know. That’s what I keep thinking too. But… I also know that the bakery could really use the help. We’ve been putting everything we have into it, and having someone like Asher backing us could make a huge difference.”

Tessa leans back, chewing on her bottom lip, clearly thinking it over. “It’s definitely tempting. Obviously he’s smart, connected, and it’s not like he’s going to micromanage us. But are you sure it won’t complicate things between you two?”

I shrug, sipping my coffee to stall for time, and then decide to come clean. “Well… it might already be a little complicated.”

Tessa narrows her eyes at me, clearly sensing something more. “What do you mean, ‘already complicated’? Ivy, what aren’t you telling me?”

A blush creeps up my neck, and I fidget with the coffee cup in my hands. “We, uh… we slept together… twice.” I hold up my fingers. “Actually, waaaay more than twice but we’ve spent two nights together.”

Tessa’s eyes widen, and for a second, she’s speechless. Then she bursts into giggles, setting her coffee aside as she turns to face me fully. “Oh my God, Ivy! You didn’t tell me that part! And here I thought you were just baking gingerbread and exchanging shy looks.”

I laugh, hiding my face in my hands for a moment. “It just… it happened. It wasn’t planned or anything. But, Tessa, it was… amazing. Like, beyond anything I could have imagined. And it wasn’t just physical, you know? It felt… real.”

Tessa’s laughter fades into a warm smile, and she nudges me with her shoulder. “I’m happy for you, Ivy. I really am. I’ve never seen you this… glowy about someone.”

I roll my eyes at the word glowy, but I can’t deny that I’ve been feeling exactly that. “It’s still new, though. I don’t want to get ahead of myself. But about the bakery—do we take his offer?”

Tessa taps her chin thoughtfully. “I say we weigh the pros and cons. Pro: we’d have some serious financial backing. Con: we’d be tied to Asher’s involvement, and if things with you two went sideways, it could get awkward. Pro: his connections could open doors for us we wouldn’t have otherwise. Con: it might feel like we’re giving up control.”

We talk it through for a few more hours, going back and forth until the pros start to outweigh the cons. Tessa leans back, sighing. “You know, as long as we stay clear on our vision and Asher respects that, it could work.”

I nod in agreement, feeling more confident. “I think you’re right. He’s not the type to take over. He trusts us to know what we’re doing. I don’t think he has any interest in that. He just sees what we have and wants us to truly succeed, and if we sink all of our cash into a down payment, it really handcuffs us.”

Tessa grins. “Okay, then. Let’s do it.”

“Yeah?” I ask, excitement bubbling up. “We’re really doing this?”

“We’re doing it,” she says, holding out her hand for a high five. I laugh and slap her hand, feeling the weight of the decision lift off my shoulders.

Just as we’re about to settle back into discussing the next steps, I narrow my eyes at her. “By the way, what was up with you at the holiday party? You were so evasive, pushing me toward Asher all night.”

Tessa flushes, her cheeks turning a shade of pink that’s impossible to miss. “I wasn’t… evasive,” she mumbles, looking everywhere but at me.

“Oh, really?” I press, raising an eyebrow. “Come on, Tessa. I know you. What were you up to?”

She hesitates for a moment, clearly debating whether to spill. But then she sighs, giving in. “Fine. It’s… Zane.”

I blink, caught off guard. “Zane? Asher’s brother, Zane?”

Tessa rolls her eyes dramatically. “Yes. He’s so… ugh. Annoying. Rude. But also—” She stops herself, her cheeks flushing even more.

I stifle a grin. “But also what?”

“He’s… infuriatingly attractive,” she admits, exasperated. “And I don’t know, there’s just something about him that drives me crazy. In both the good and bad ways.”

I burst out laughing, leaning over and nudging her playfully. “Oh my God, Tessa! You have a crush on Zane?”

She groans, covering her face. “I wouldn’t call it a crush. It’s more like… I don’t know, he gets under my skin. But in a way that makes me want to… punch him and then kiss him. Maybe have some really hot, bed-breaking hate sex.”

I can’t stop laughing, and she swats at me. “It’s not funny! He’s impossible, and yet…”

“And yet you like him,” I finish for her, grinning.

She throws her hands up in defeat. “Fine. Yes. Maybe I like him. A little. But he’s so infuriating!” she says again, as if that’s the only word that can truly capture her feelings. “Why does it have to be him?”

I pat her knee sympathetically. “Well, I think you should go for it. Who knows? Maybe there’s more to him than you think.”

Tessa groans again, but I can see the tiny smile she’s trying to hide. “He’s not my type at all.”

“No, what you mean is he isn’t falling over himself to be with you and you’re not used to that,” I tease her.

“Or maybe that’s precisely the draw. My brain just wants him because I know it can’t ever be anything. He’s too much trouble for me,” she says emphatically, as if she’s decided she wants nothing to do with him now. Then she giggles again. “Okay fine, I’ll think about it.”

After a few more minutes of playful teasing, we get back to business, agreeing to let Asher be part of the bakery plans. With our decision made, we make the calls—first to our lender, then to Suzette, the real estate agent. Each conversation feels like another step forward, and by the time we hang up, I feel a sense of relief.

Tessa grins at me, holding up her coffee cup in a toast. “Here’s to new beginnings.”

I clink my cup against hers, smiling as I think about everything that’s unfolding. “To new beginnings. And maybe a little Christmas magic for you too.”