Red Hot Rebel - Olivia Hayle Page 0,97

as much, either.”

His thumb slides along my jaw. “You’ve confused me too. Every box I wanted to put you in, you’ve defied.”

“Rhys, I know you consider life an adventure and people something to savor, but I can’t handle it if we are like that. It’s not in me to be casual.”

“I don’t want anything casual with you,” he replies. “And for the record, you made it difficult to stay cool and casual.”

“So did you. Impossible, even.”

His hand closes over my wrist, fitting with my palm flat to his chest. Right over his heart, where I can feel the pounding beneath his skin. “You’re trusting and earnest and innocent. Sarcastic and smart. An optimist to your core, Ivy. You take your coffee with too much sugar and your tea with too much milk, but I couldn’t care less.” He rests his forehead against mine, the inky blackness of his hair spilling over mine. “And I always care about that.”

My hands creep up to his neck, to the warm skin waiting for me. “I liked you even when I didn’t like you very much.”

He’s so close that I can’t see his smile, but I can feel it, as if it’s an extension of me. “I know,” he says. “The feeling was mutual. Seeing that Italian model kiss your neck in Rome damn near killed me.”

“I hoped you’d be jealous of that.”

A wicked spark in his eyes. “You surprise me, too, at every turn. I hope you never stop doing that.”

I wet my lips. “Are we really going to try this?”

“Being something, you and me?”

“Yes.”

“I think we should. We’ll probably argue half the time, about what movie to watch, what book to read, about whether or not peanuts should be salted… but I’m okay with that.”

“I’m okay with that too.” My hand slides into his hair, it’s silky thickness caressing my skin. “I don’t think you’d want it any other way.”

His lips close over mine, and I respond in kind, the two of us reuniting like we’re closing a deal—agreeing on our future, on us, on this.

What he is and what I am fits together so well, in so many ways, that even the areas where we don’t match up feel right. I surrender to the delicious simplicity of his touch and wonder if love will always feel like this, like falling, scary and exhilarating in equal measure.

Because love means you have to trust. You have to open up. And you have to allow someone else in, with the power to hurt you, and have faith they don’t.

Rhys’s eyes are open when he lifts his head. “Why are we still at this party?”

I laugh, feeling light, like a balloon ready to float up to the ceiling. “Because we earned it. We won.”

“Co-won.”

“No,” I say, lacing my fingers through his. “We won.”

He’s wearing that slanted smile that’s so uniquely his. “This is how it starts, isn’t it? I’m forced to change my attitude, one peppy comment at a time.”

“I’m not going to stop challenging you.”

“Good.” He reaches into his pocket, withdrawing a USB stick. “And to think I had an entire speech prepared. I’ve never begged in my life, Ivy, but I was prepared to beg for your forgiveness.”

“What’s this?”

“The pictures you deleted from my computer? The ones from Bali?”

The nude pictures. “I remember.”

“Well, they’d already been backed up to my hard drive. Automatic save and all that. I transferred them all to this USB. I didn’t peek, and there are no other copies.” He puts the memory stick in my hand, closing my fingers around them. “Yours to do exactly what you want with.”

My hand tightens around the memory stick, a flood of emotions threatening to drown me. Perhaps Rhys sees that, because he presses a kiss to my temple, his hand curving around my waist. “I’m on your side, Ives. No one else’s.”

“Okay.”

“And I’ll never lie to you again. I want to be so honest it tears me apart.”

I can’t help but laugh at that, looking up at him. “We’re back to violent metaphors?”

“Seems like it,” he murmurs, bending his lips to my ear. “As much as I want to get out of here, I think we’ve misplaced our siblings somewhere.”

Grinning, I slide the memory stick into my handbag and take his hand in mine. He grips mine back firmly, pushing the door open with his free hand. “After you.”

27

Rhys

“Did you grab this from my apartment?” I ask, holding up the old paperback.

Ivy untangles her legs from the blanket, reaching for the

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