Thanks for tuning in as I post 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 love hearing what you think.

Prologue (old) Prologue (new) Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapters 8&9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 (old) Chapter 15 (new) Chapter 16 Chapter 17

Chapter 18 - Adam

Keeping Ivy safe—not just physically free from harm, but truly secure—has always mattered to me. Nothing feels better than holding her in my arms like this. I want her to trust me, that’s first and foremost. But I also want her to feel herself around me. If I know anything, it’s how damaging it can be to deny your true nature. 

I'm very aware of her self-doubt, especially when I can see on her face that she hears her mother's critical voice in her head. So, I make a conscious effort to say things that are the opposite of what her mother would say. I take a silent but deep breath of her hair, she smells like my past and my future. 

In moments of crisis, like last night, bringing that tiny little boy into the world, I try to assure her that she's handling things well. She was a most capable assistant last night—for someone who went to law school and not nursing school, she was everywhere I needed her to be during that delivery. And she looked beautiful doing it. I tried to telegraph my confidence in her and desire for her, even as we were both busy being an emergency obstetrics team!

Even though she might not feel it, I value her opinion. Last night, I tried to make a point of making decisions together, nothing critical or medical, of course. But I wanted her to feel involved, and I want to help her build up her confidence and find her own self-worth.

My greatest wish—well, wait. My actual greatest wish is for the woman lying chastely next to me in my bed to fall deeply in love with me, commit, adopt a dozen babies, a couple of dogs, a white picket fence. In lieu of that, or maybe on the way to that, I wish Ivy could love herself. The things I like most about her are the same things she dislikes about herself, her vulnerabilities, and her little quirky habits. She berates herself for being disorganized, but I envy her free-spirited nature. My own OCD tendencies make me crave control, and I find it freeing to be around her. And her chaos. In fact, I crave her chaos like I crave to feel her skin. 

As I’m just about to drift off to sleep again, holding her in my arms, I am tempted to say to her: I know that it's natural to want to erase your imperfections, but those are the things I love most about you. I want to tell her how much I appreciate her for who she is and help her see her own worth. But instead, I decide we’ll both be much better off if I just show her that. For the rest of our lives.