Writing On The Wall (The King Brothers Duology #2)

Chapter 28

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

ETHAN

Dr. McFeely continues groping Ivy’s bare skin, making her giggle when he cracks a corny joke and flourishes it with another stupid wink. Isn’t he breaking some ancient medical oath by flirting with a patient?

I know I’ve been a jerk tonight. Watching Ivy fall, knowing I couldn’t catch her—it nearly gave me a heart attack. And to top it off, I was out getting a stupid pizza instead of being there for her in the first place. Then I went and kissed her. It was the hottest damn kiss I’ve ever experienced, and we hadn’t even gotten past a PG-rating.

I don’t regret kissing Ivy. I regret letting her run away again earlier this afternoon instead of coming clean about my feelings though. If I’d told her the truth, that I have absolutely no desire to go out with anyone else but her, she wouldn’t be here now, getting stitched up.

Ivy suppresses a wince as Dr. Smooth numbs her skin. I’m like a lion, jumping to her side and grabbing her hand. Her eyes pop open, meeting mine in question. I squeeze her hand, reassuring her I’m here for her. I’ve never wanted to shove a man out the door more than I do now. In my fantasy, Ivy doesn’t need her creamy skin stitched up, so hoisting this prissy intruder out the room isn’t inconsiderate.

“We’ll wait a few minutes for the skin to numb up,” he says, reminding me that for now, he’s needed.

Yeah, I’m a giant Neanderthal. I want to scoop Ivy up and growl out mine .

“Any inside info you can give me on Stef? I think there’s a coworker she’s into but she’s refusing to give me anything.”

Ivy looks puzzled as she pauses to think. “The only male teacher remotely her age is… Oh my gosh!” Her hand slaps over her mouth as she bugs her eyes at me. “Um…nope. I don’t know anything about that.” She adds, her eyes roaming over every wall in the tiny room we’re in.

“Well, we’ll just pretend you didn’t just answer my question,” He winks again as he sterilizes Ivy’s skin, and I clear my throat, though it probably comes out sounding more like a snarl.

“Sorry, man. I didn’t catch your name. Are you Ivy’s brother?” Dr. Bryan asks, pivoting toward me on his wheely chair.

“Boyfriend.” I smile flatly, giving Ivy’s hand a tighter clasp and shooting her a raised eyebrow when it looks like she’s about to protest. I don’t bother giving my name, because all this guy needs to know is that Ivy is unavailable.

“Right.” He clears his throat uncomfortably. A few minutes of awkward silence go by before dear old doc begins stitching Ivy up. She clenches my hand a little harder, sending small jolts to my stomach. I hate that she’s hurt because of me. If I’d called her phone or waited for her to come down the ladder, she might not have fallen. She was asking for trouble with those freaking wedge heels she wears, but I should have known better. The woman is a walking accident waiting to happen. I purse my lips, scowling at the doctor.

“Easy tiger,” he chuckles. “We’re all done. ”

Dr. Bryan smiles once more at Ivy before leaving. I shift closer, cradling her hand more gently within mine, sending a message and secretly celebrating being close without her pulling away.

I curl an arm around her, helping her sit while the nurse relays aftercare instructions and orders Ivy to fill a prescription for antibiotics. My last few moments of pretending to be her boyfriend are waning by the second. As soon as the nurse leaves, I’m back to being a single man, brought to his knees by a woman who drives him crazy in every sense of the word.

“What the heck are you doing?” Ivy whisper shouts once we’re alone. Wide, mossy-green eyes impale me while her hand whacks my arm for emphasis.

“I’m thinking you should go out with me.”

“What?”

“Ivy June, can I take you out to dinner? On a date?”

“I have a boyfriend,” she squeaks.

I tilt my head. “False.”

“Listen here, Dwight Schrute.” She points a finger while sliding off the hospital bed. “I can’t date you. My life is already a mess, and Gran thinks I’m dating Toby. If she finds out that’s not true, she’ll be devastated. She only gave me the house because of it.”

I open the door, laying a hand on her back while we slowly make our way to the exit. I’m not that easily deterred, though. There’s magic between us, and I’m going to chase it. It’s the first time I’ve ever considered changing my plans for a woman, and that’s a pretty big green flag. Plus, I’m almost positive she’s overthinking this thing with her Gran.

“Counteroffer,” I propose, cupping her elbows as she cringes and hoists herself into my truck. “Continue fake dating Toby and have dinner with me. Just dinner. ”

I shut her door, leaving her with my offer as I round the truck to the driver’s side.

When I climb in, she’s leaning back against the headrest, her eyes closed while she talks on the phone. I gather from her side of the conversation that there’s some sort of drama with Opal and Gail pulling a prank on her Gran. I slide out my phone to order a pizza delivery, because I could literally eat a horse at this point.

Ivy only hangs up once we reach her house, and she eases herself onto the sofa in the living room. I kneel in front of her, sliding her Crocs off her dainty feet. She lifts her head, eyes tracking my movements.

“This day feels like ten years,” she breathes out. “And I’m starving.”

“I ordered pizza,” I say, taking a seat beside her and pulling her feet over my lap.

“I could kiss you,” she mumbles and sighs, then her head pops up. “I mean that as a figure of speech.”

“I’m game,” I tell her with a shrug and a smirk.

“Ethan…” Her eyes sober as she plays with a thread of a pillow. “I’m serious about my life being a giant mess. My head feels like it’s going to spin off with all the drama and white lies and withheld information. Adding this,” she pauses to gesture between us, “as nice and confusing as it is, wouldn’t be fair to either of us. I don’t know if I could handle it once you’re ready to move on. Because you will leave. You’re meant for big things, and this town is too small for Ethan King.” She smiles softly.

There’s so much that I want to shoulder for her. I want to be the barrier when she feels ambushed by her struggles. I want to be the one who helps her learn the strategies that will make her life easier and to teach her that letting people in is a sign of strength. I want to know about the trouble her brother dumped in her lap and figure out how to lighten her load. I want to be someone she can rely on.

But this isn’t about what I want. It’s about what she needs. And I think she needs me to prove that I won’t add more stress to her life, that I’m not always a giant butthead, and that she can depend on me.

A knock sounds at the door, and I gently move Ivy’s feet from my lap to get the pizza. My stomach growls as the smell of cheese and pepperoni wafts into the air. I plate our food, telling Ivy to stay put. I can see how hard it is for her not to play host. She could be bleeding and on crutches and still insist on making sure everyone else is comfortable.

I hand her a plate then rummage through her medicine cabinet for some pain pills, giving her a couple with a glass of water.

“Thank you,” she whispers, looking like she could pass out any minute. She gulps down the water before she speaks again. “You’re not going to fight me on my refusal?”

“Nope,” I answer after finishing a bite of pizza. “But I’m not that easily scared off. I’ll show you that I’m here for you. And I promise not to kiss you again until you ask me.”

She rolls her eyes, her mouth forming a flat line. “Unlikely.”

“But not impossible.”

“Thank you for dinner, Mr. King, but it’s time that I retire,” she adds with a perfect British accent.

“Ah, see? You’ve already had dinner with me. Our first date is out of the way. How about we cut to the chase and you ask me for that kiss goodnight?”

“Asking me to ask for it doesn’t count,” she points out, but all I do is grin at her, because she’s not denying that she wants a kiss, either.

I help her stand and walk her to her bedroom, her arm tucked in the crook of mine. When we reach her door, I turn a cheek, tapping it while I lean down.

“That counts as asking for it.”

I flutter my eyes, smiling while I wait. “I said I wouldn’t kiss you unless you asked me to. This is you kissing me. It’s different.”

“Whatever,” she grumbles before laying her palms on my shoulders and planting a soft kiss on my cheek. I could get used to this. Our playful banter minus the part when her eyes threaten to dismember me is my new favorite high. Although this feels just as dangerous, because when she’s not plotting to murder me, her smiles are free and lethal, wielding sharp arrows that never miss their target.

My heart is in trouble.