Chapter 5

Thank you for tuning in for 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’m so excited to hear what you think.

Read earlier chapters here:
Prologue Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4

Chapter 5 - Adam

I never thought I’d see her again. I mean, I hoped—fuck, I have often dreamed about seeing her again. It’s Ivy Gardiner herself. Matched with me on Bumble? What are the chances? Oh, Bumble app designers, thank you for the match. How exhilarating is the interrupting animation. A wake-up call breaking up the monotony of the mindless swiping. It’s a match! 

And there she is. My dream girl. 

The first time I saw this woman, I fell for her. I fell hard. But she never knew me. 

Just now, seeing her on Bumble—hell yes, I swiped right. I swiped right because she’s still the most beautiful woman in the world to me. Because she wrote in her profile that she identifies as bisexual—which means I might stand a fighting chance with her. Most of all, I swiped right because I have hope. Call me a romantic, but hope is my drug of choice. I mainline that shit. And here, Dear Universe, you have brought me the greatest hit of it in a long, long time.

How serendipitous that we both ended up in LA. It suits her, obviously. Her stunning profile photo—a grown-up version of the Ivy I adored for four years in college—smiles out of my phone at me with the city skyline in the background. How is a woman this beautiful, this intelligent, this heavenly not only single, but on a dating app?

And there it is, her first contact. Nice. She thinks I have a great smile? Has she seen her? 

We exchange a few brief messages while I stare at the rest of her photos in the app. She’s older, more mature, but I can see the girl in her—the teenager I watched grow into a woman.

No longer as awkward as I was back then, I bring my A-game. I walk the fine line between charming flirtation and serious interest in her.

“Wow, look at those big, brown eyes…” I type. God, I hope her sense of humor is still as good as I remember.

“My eyes aren’t brown,” she responds. Careful, Adam, play this carefully.

“And that blonde hair. How long have you two been together? Does he get jealous easily?” Of course, I’m referring to the photo of her with a gorgeous Golden Retriever. 

“Oh, haha! Unfortunately, she and I are not together,” she replies.

“That’s heartbreaking. I was hoping to meet her. Did she dump you? (Wait. Should I not use dump in this context? She *is* a dog.)” I’m cracking myself up over here. 

“Worse than that. She was just a girl I met in the park. We never even stood a chance. Unless I’d resorted to dog-napping. Haha.”

“Dog-napping happens to be my favorite pastime. What’s your favorite 101 Dalmatians movie? Animated? Glenn Close? Emma Stone?” I know the 1961 animated version is a childhood favorite of hers. But she also used to be obsessed with Emma Stone. 

“Tough call. The original animated movie was a gem. But Emma Stone is my hall pass.”

“Does this mean we’re boyfriend and girlfriend? If you get a hall pass, that means we’re already a thing, right?”

“Obviously. *wink*” God, she’s so cute. I love this banter. 

Too soon there’s her inevitable, “I’ve got to head to work.” 

“I’d be thrilled to keep this conversation going, Ivy. What time will you be available this evening to chat on the app or by phone?” We set an in-app date for the next evening. I’ll take it. 

I can be patient. Patient is my middle name. I spent four years wishing I could tell her everything. After we graduated—yes, of course, I creeped on her at graduation; she even made a mortarboard and gown look good—everything changed for me. 

Of course, everything changed for both of us. It had to. Her big change was law school—it was always her dream and I’m sure it occupied her completely.

I was busy, too. In fact, after a gap year to focus on my health, I had to work my ass off to catch up with my medical school peers. Well, I didn’t take a true gap—I completed the scholarly year of my Masters in Public Health. Focused solely on me and my studies, I gave up on the dream of Ivy Gardiner. I put her in the back of my mind. And there she simmered all these years.

Now? Now, I’d know her anywhere. Her perfect lips, her expressive brows, her not-quite dimples, her flawless skin. She had dark blond hair nine years ago, now her long wavy hair is lighter and brighter. She’s cute—it’s the first thing you notice about her—bubbly and charming. She lights up a room. But I know she’s also deeply insecure—maybe it’s twisted, but that has its own charm.

To me, she is stunningly beautiful—others might miss it, but when she relaxes, the eager-to-please, cute Ivy fades and the stunningly gorgeous Ivy comes to light.

Plus, she’s sexy as fuck. Those curves? In the blink of an eye, I’ve seen this woman go from playfully adorable to wickedly sexy. It drove me wild back in school. 

The best part of this online dating thing is there’s absolutely no way she recognizes me. I’ve changed so much since South Bend. 

This is it, Adam. This is how your story truly begins.