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“It’s nice.” His eyes scan the room. “Kind of reminds me of Drew’s place. But, you know, more professionally done.”
“I’d give you a tour,” I tell him. “But I want to scrub down the area first.”
Gray sets my bags to the side. “Yeah, I’m not going to stress your sister any more than I’ve already done. I’ll just leave you here.”
For a moment, we stare at each other. I don’t want him to leave. Maybe he doesn’t want to go. It’s a strange feeling, as though I’ll lose him if he walks out the door. Which is ridiculous. Perhaps that’s why I launch myself at him and wrap my arms around his neck in a fierce hug.
“Sorry,” I tell his shoulder, because I don’t want to let go. “I’m just so happy to finally be with you.”
And then I realize that he’s hugging me back. His arms are tight bands around my waist, his body pressed to mine.
He kisses the top of my head. “Me too, Ivy Mac.”
I make a production out of smoothing his rumpled shirt before stepping back entirely. “I better go and see to Fi.”
The corners of his eyes crinkle as he brushes my chin with his knuckle. “Call you later, okay?”
He hesitates for just a moment more. And then he’s gone, leaving the house in utter silence.
That is, until Fi lets out a pitiful moan. “Can I come out now?”
I laugh. “No. Stay put. I’ll come find you.”
“I’m in your room. Puking on your bed because you didn’t warn me that you were bringing a hot guy home, you fuckface.”
Our rooms flank each side of the living space, mine closer to the kitchen. I head that way with a grin. “I’m sorry! Really, I am.”
“Sure, sure.” Fi’s voice grows clearer as I enter my room.
I stop and take it in with shocked awe. Because she’s redecorated in here too. “Fi... Wow.”
“Surprise,” she says feebly from her sprawl on my bed.
The entire room is done in shades of cream—the walls, the simple-lined but elegant furniture, the plush carpet over pine floorboards. I never would have thought of it, but it’s so restful and serene that I’m in instant love.
The bed is the showstopper, with an enormous white canopy. Because Fi knows my style, she didn’t go for girly but chose a classic, wood frame so that the bed resembles a structured cube. White linens and a mass of plump pillows make it soft and inviting.
“It’s beautiful,” I tell her.
“Well, I figured we could add some splashes of color here and there, if you like.”
I kick off my shoes and plop down on the bed beside her. The cool feather duvet swallows me up with a sigh. “It’s perfect. I feel like I’ve walked into a cloud.”
Fi gives a weak laugh and closes her eyes. “Good. Cloud is what I was going for.”
“How are you doing?” I touch her forehead and find it clammy.
“I feel like shit on a shoe. Not the welcome home I was planning.”
“We’ll make up for it when you’re better.” Because she’s sick, I kiss her shoulder instead of her cheek. “Missed you, Fi-Fi.”
At this, she turns and grins. “Missed you too, Ivy Weed.”
Her grin fades and her pale brows knit. “And what the fuck? Why didn’t you tell me that Grayson was gorgeous? Hell, I might have to reconsider my ban on football players.”
Fi has channeled her resentment of my dad’s job into a dislike of all things Sports.
“Honestly? I didn’t know. We hadn’t exchanged pictures or anything.”
