My hearts: I’m posting chapters of my new novel When Ivy Met Adam: A second chance, forced proximity, sexy, queer love-triangle romance. Your feedback is everything. Please post comments here or email me. I’ll be so excited to hear what you think.

Read earlier chapters here:
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2

Chapter 3 - Ivy

last summer

Beep, beep, beep. What is that incessant sound? What the actual— Oh, gosh. It’s just my phone alarm. I reach over and turn it off. 

Beep, beep, beep. What is that incessant sound? What the actual— Oh, gosh. It’s just my phone alarm. I reach over and turn it off. Wait. I guess I was dreaming the first alarm? Weird. 

Beep, beep, beep. What is that incessant sound? What the actual— Oh, gosh. It’s just my alarm. I reach over and turn it off. For real, this time. Gah, I hate that dream. 

I get up, stretching. I head to the bathroom, ready to start my day. 

I’ve been having this dream every few days since my birthday. Am I so cliché that turning twenty-nine makes me start dreaming about alarm clocks? So annoying. 

“Want to see the new Spider-man?” The sound of Maeve’s text must be what triggered that dream. That and the blistering LA heat my high-rise apartment building’s air conditioner cannot keep up with making me cranky before I even woke up.

Maeve is my movie buddy. We are the only two in our friend group who consistently want to see every new Marvel movie when it first comes out. 

“Air conditioning, web slinging, AND your company? Heck yes!” I reply.

Before noon, we are tucked into our cushy recliners with icy bottles of water and movie candy. The gentleman seated next to me is quiet and nondescript—thank goodness. But the man seated next to him… Oh, my. 

The first thing I notice is his smile. So open and bright. The smile of someone genuinely happy to be where he is. A nicely trimmed, dark beard. And great teeth, a gorgeous smile. 

Telling Maeve I’ll be back, I get up to go to the bathroom—really, so I can sneak a better peek at the guy. I am too nervous to make eye contact, but I get enough of a look to know I like what I see. Tall, fit, with thick dark hair—and that gorgeous smile. I immediately shrink into myself (too nervous by half) and slip away to the restrooms. 

In the restroom, I check myself out in the mirror as I wash my hands. I still can’t come to the movies without a face mask, but I look pretty cute for a germaphobe. Black jeans, white tee, olive green double-breasted blazer with contrast plaid cuffs. I like my new black-framed glasses—I cannot fathom what took me so long to admit I needed them. 

I imagine myself being bold enough to say “hi” to the stranger. I picture his handsome smile aimed at me. I try to imagine his hi back—would he just say hello? Or would he start a conversation? Oh, gah. How can I try to meet someone in the middle of a movie? What a nerd. What if he’s a pre-previews kind of guy and really wants to watch The Twenty? What if he doesn’t like me? What if he’s not single? What if he’s with-with the guy next to him? Enough. Dry your hands. Go watch Tom Holland save the world one more time, Ivy. Sheesh. 

Deciding I am far too anxious to meet anyone (probably ever), I slip back into my cushy seat and watch the movie. Thinking about dating (forget dating, I’m too awkward to even say hello to this man!) has me lamenting my single-since-Ali-broke-my-heart status. I spent law school and my postdoc focused on my studies and little else. Occasional hookups with guys or girls met in bars or on dating apps always ended as one-night stands. Never, ever a second date. 

Here's the thing. I got exceptionally lucky when I met Ali. I wasn't looking to meet anyone. But there she was, all gorgeous and glowing and perfect. And she liked me back, just as instantly. 

What happens, I've found, when you are handed all the best things in life, is it’s sometimes difficult to know how to work for something. I really have been blessed. I am not only very lucky, but I’m also immensely grateful for all the gifts I’ve been given. My parents are financially very comfortable and are exceptionally generous to my sister Iris and me. (We’re not spoiled so much as we are very well cared for.) So, no, I haven’t had to work for much in my life. My dream university recruited me while I was still in high school. My top choice firm recruited me while I was completing my Masters. Even my perfect girlfriend fell into my lap. 

So, because I was handed the best thing in life (and in this case, I had the best thing in life ripped from my heart and my hands), it has been difficult to try to find another love all on my own. I don’t have the skills. More than a decade after she broke my heart, I can close my eyes and still see Ali's face. The face of the person who gave me everything, and then stole it suddenly and completely away. So, yeah, I’m a little wary of dating.  

What sucks is that it is now up to me to go out and search for love again. Okay, maybe I am just a little spoiled. But I don't want to be that girl who has to sift through a lot of people to find The One.

Make no mistake, I want to be in a relationship. It’s not a fear of commitment; it’s fear of rejection, to be sure. But I definitely want to find someone. Ideally, just as instantly as I found her the first time. Not that I want Ali back. My dating self-esteem may be low, but it ain’t that low, friends. It’s been a long time, and I have grown up and changed far too much to slink back to my ex. Maybe this guy sitting one seat over has the potential to be my soulmate. Unfortunately, I am ill-equipped to find that out. 

When the movie is over, Maeve and I stay for the credits—we always do—and the two men seated next to me go about their day. Missed connection. What a shame.