a painkiller all morning. Even after jumping into the water and crashing into its icy depths at top speed, I haven’t needed to dull anything.
I pop a painkiller into my mouth out of habit more than anything, knowing that the reason I haven’t needed any was because I was with Ivy.
When Beckett and I make it to the pier for the yacht party, I can already see some paparazzi sneaking around the marina. I don’t know why they bother hiding. It’s obvious they were called here on purpose. This is a photo op. It’s all arranged.
Our bodyguards whisk Beckett and me toward the massive yacht. When we get near the boat, I hear excited shouts behind me.
A limousine pulls up, and Margot emerges. Her hair is gleaming in the sun, and her thin sundress leaves nothing to the imagination. She’s wearing oversized sunglasses, but she still manages to smile and wave at the cameras. I resist the urge to roll my eyes.
Does she actually enjoy this? The cameras, the attention, the lack of privacy?
Beckett lets out a sigh behind me. “Damn…”
I glance at my brother, and he clamps his mouth shut, turning his eyes away from my supposed girlfriend. I look back at her as she struts down the pier.
The way the paparazzi clamor for her makes me want to retch. When I see her wave for the cameras, I understand why Ivy was so hesitant to be seen with me. She knows that anything she does could be blown completely out of proportion.
I know that already. That’s the reality I’ve been living, too. I’m the prodigal son who learned to walk again, returning to spread my message of hope to the masses. I’m the miracle boy, healed from his cliff dive. The man who would never walk again, walking.
If I act like anything less than a hero, I get torn apart by the media.
But I’m used to it. Ivy’s not. She still lives her life in the semi-unknown. She’s adjacent to fame, but she’s doesn’t feel the direct heat of the spotlight.
A small part of me wants to respect that. I want to shield Ivy from it all, and let her keep that pure, innocent spirit that she has. Would she have jumped off that cliff if she was worried about cameramen hiding in the bushes?
Maybe not.
Behind Margot, Ivy emerges from the limo. No one snaps a photo of her. No one even seems to notice her.
But I do.
Ripped jeans. White t-shirt. Baseball cap. Sexy, angry scowl. She looks exactly how I feel.
My heart thumps, and all the blood rushes between my legs. The two sisters walk up toward us. Margot hands her purse to her sister before slipping her hand in mine. She reaches her head up to kiss my cheek, and I glance over her shoulder at Ivy.
The dark-haired girl glowers. Her eyes shoot flames at me, and I grin.
Is she jealous that I’m holding Margot’s hand, or is she just scared that I’ll say something about our kiss?
“You look great,” I say to Margot, leading her up the gangway to the yacht’s exterior deck. I can hear the paparazzi shuffling behind us, rushing to get into boats that will follow us out onto Farcliff Lake. Beckett hovers, saying an awkward hello to my date.
Ivy follows. I can feel her movements behind me without even having to turn around. There’s an invisible connection between us, and it takes all my self-control to play the part of a doting boyfriend for a woman I care nothing about.
A few more celebrities and socialites have been invited, and they’re all waiting for us on board. Staff buzz around to everyone, refilling cocktails and passing around appetizers that no one eats.
How my brother Theo thinks this will elevate Argyle’s reputation, I have no idea. But it does allow me to spend the afternoon in close proximity to Ivy, so I’m not complaining.
Ivy slinks behind us, forgotten by everyone except me. I can sense her presence everywhere. When I inhale the scent of seaweed and boat fuel, I can just detect the faint notes of cinnamon and sweetness hovering underneath. Glancing over my shoulder, I see her slip inside the interior of the luxury yacht.
Margot drags me to the bow of the boat, where large sunbeds have been set up. Beckett plants himself on one of them, slipping his dark sunglasses over his eyes. He’s never too far away from Margot. Margot shimmies out of her sundress, revealing a barely-there black bikini.