Chapter 22 & 23

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 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21

Chapter 22 - Adam

Ivy pulls away from me, and I can feel the rejection coursing through me. My heart sinks as she looks at me with tears in her eyes.

“Wait. What are you talking about, Ivy? I thought we had something here," I say, trying to keep my voice steady. We’re at the airport and she’s brushing me off. It sucks. 

“This was a fun diversion, Adam, but we need to go back to being friends,” she says. She looks as lost as I feel. She cannot possibly want this. 

I am trying to understand, to be patient. But inside, I feel myself seething with frustration. I want us to be together forever, to be an instant couple with strings attached and a contract in hand. But Ivy will not be rushed. She knows what she deserves, and she won’t settle for anything less. I get it. I really do. 

“I’ll see you in LA. We can start over, start slow,” she says.

“Yeah. Okay. I’ll be back there in two weeks.” I grit my teeth. “Text me when you land, though.”

“Not a good idea. I think we should go radio silent until you’re back. I really want us to take time to get to know each other.” 

And we can’t do that long distance—by text and FaceTime and email? Hell, I’ll write her letters if that’s what she wants. But it’s not what she wants. Listen, Adam, I scold myself. Listen to her. “Whatever you think is best. But please let me know you’ve landed safely.”

“Sure.” She looks at her watch. “I have to go now. Thank you for rescuing me. Twice.”

“May I—” I was about to ask her if I could kiss her, but the look on her face makes me change my question midway— “hug you goodbye?”

She nods and puts her arms around my waist. I wrap mine around her shoulders and hug her tight. 

As she walks away from me, I know that I've messed up. I should have been more understanding, more patient. I should have listened to her and respected her feelings.

But it’s not too late. I can show her I’m willing to change, to be the man she needs. I can give her the time and space she needs to heal, to come to terms with everything that has happened between us.

We’ll start over again when she;s ready. I’ll get a gig in LA so she doesn’t have distance as an excuse. And one day, I know that we'll be able to move forward. Together. Stronger than ever.

Chapter 23 - Ivy

So the plan was to take a break from Adam. To try again when he was back from Hawaii. Take things slow, be friends, build a foundation. But before Adam can even get back to LA, I have accepted a job in Florida. 

“I hate Florida,” he sounds like he’s either a sulking child or a Democrat. Maybe both. 

“No one hates Florida, Adam. And besides, you’re not moving there. I am moving there.” 

We're sitting in a quiet coffee shop, holding hands across the table. More accurately, he’s holding my hands. I still don’t think Adam understands what he does to me. He's the reason I have trust issues. Well, maybe not all of them, but a big chunk. It’s something we need to talk about openly at some point.

“I feel like we’re breaking up all over again,” he says. “I hate this.”

“We can’t break up. We’re not dating.” I pull my hands away and fill both of them with my coffee cup. Wait, does he mean when we broke up all those years ago? That thought makes my head hurt. My heart is numb, thank goodness. “Do you mean when you broke up with me senior year? Is that what you mean? Wait. Don’t answer that.” I nearly drop my coffee and throw up my stop-sign hands. This man knows how to make me spin. “Look. Despite what have explained to me, despite your fairly valid reasons for breaking up, you have never fully explained why you didn't trust me to be by your side. I deserve the truth.” 

“I’m not trying to be an asshole, here, Ivy. But you’re the one stopping us from having that conversation. You won’t let me tell you. You relegated me to radio silence for the last two weeks. And now you’re moving nearly three thousand miles away.” He’s exasperated. “Look. I love you.” He pauses. 

I blink slowly. Try to let that sink in. How the fuck does he know that? 

“I know you’re wondering how I could possibly know this is love.” 

Shut the fuck up. You don’t know what I’m thinking. I seethe silently. 

“I know because you are everything I have ever wanted in a partner. You are fun and funny. Quirky and kind. You are so smart it scares me sometimes.” He reaches for my hand again and I flinch. He stops. “You are the sexiest woman I have ever known. You in a baggy sweatshirt are hotter to me than a supermodel in panties and angel wings.” 

“Don’t be gross, Adam.”

“I mean it. You are it for me, Ivy. It’s like you were created for me.” 

I wish I had no idea what he is talking about. Unfortunately, I do. I feel it too. The chemistry. The attraction. It’s out of this world. But it cannot unbreak my heart. 

"I hear your words," I say, using my standby, cop-out phrase. It’s what I always say when I want to move a stilted conversation forward. It’s not “I hear you” as in, we’re on the same page. It’s more like a bitchy “mmm-hm” pushback. “But it’s not that simple. The past is always there between us, a constant reminder of what could have been. I think I could love you, Adam, but I can't get past the…” What, Ivy? The gaping chasm of distrust you have, not just for him, but for anyone? “I can't get past it.”

Adam looks pissed now. But that’s not what he says. “I understand, Ivy. I know I messed up, and I'm sorry for that. I have changed.” His eyes are dead and flat when he says this. His words are benevolent, but I can feel the impatience bubbling just beneath the surface. Like he is running on empty after talking about (or really, talking around) his transition and my heartache ad nauseam. Because we are not really talking about the important stuff at all. 

“Look, I want to make things right between us. I want us to be a couple,” he says. He wants us to be together, now and forever, with no questions asked. But I can't ignore the doubts and fears that still linger in my heart. 

I say, “I need more time to figure things out.” But we both know that isn’t it at all. I’m running away. And I’m absolutely okay with that. 

He sighs. “Tell me about your new job.” 

And so we talk about nothing important some more. No two people have ever shared as many words with as little meaning as we have since Bumble.