Mended

CHAPTER 20 You

Ivy, Three Months Later

The day has arrived. All the hard work and energy and it’s finally ready to share. And it’s all because of him. He shifts to his feet before me and the mere sight of him makes my eyelashes flutter, my throat burn, and my heart pound. He hasn’t shaved and his hair falls forward as he moves, making him look impossibly sexy. The hint of stubble I’m staring at has just rubbed against the sensitive skin of my face, my stomach, and everywhere else, but the yearning I feel for him is raging—I still want more.

He pulls up his pants and zips them, standing before me bare-chested—he looks hotter than sin. He catches my stare and before he buttons them he says, “I’ve just got a few things to pick up while you get ready. I’ll shower when I get back. Do you need anything?”

I lick my lips at the sight of the way his pants hang low on his hips, and I take in the perfection of his chest, the muscles in his arms, the line of his collarbone up to his neck. The jaw I’m desperate to kiss, to taste. I can almost feel my hands sliding inside those jeans and I suck in a deep breath as I imagine the feel of his warm, thick cock—the one I just felt. My heart skips a beat at the thought and when I look at him to answer, I’m not smiling. I don’t want him to leave and I can do something about it. A low purr escapes my throat and his mouth quirks up at the corners in response.

I rip the T-shirt off that I just slipped on and sashay across the room. I feel like a lion after her prey. His eyes search mine, and the tone of that hissing noise he makes that just sounds like sex as he watches me makes my pussy clench. I approach him without an ounce of hesitation. “Stay. Take a shower with me. And I promise I’ll make it worth your while.” I feel a slow blush creep up my throat but ignore it and concentrate instead on tracing each letter of his tattoo. The one he had inked on his skin to keep me close to him. His body reacts to my tender touch and I grin. When I finish, I skim my fingers up his body and then bury my hands in his hair. His fingers grip my hips, but he stands still. I kiss his jaw, then his mouth. My tongue seeks what my body just had and we lose each other in our kiss.

Minutes later he cups my face and says, “Ivy, I have things to do before we leave. What are you doing?” He drops his head back as I do what I imagined doing just a few seconds ago. I push my hands into the front of his pants and feel the pulsing and throbbing of his already thick penis.

“I want you to fuck me again. I want to suck on your cock. Please.” My animalistic approach, the fierceness I felt before his body was touching mine, is ruined by the shakiness of my voice and my use of the word please. But he doesn’t seem to care.

“Fuck, Ivy,” he growls. Then he unzips his jeans and in one quick motion shoves them down, freeing his erection. Knowing he has just come inside me not more than fifteen minutes ago and he is already this turned on makes my clit throb. He shakes his head and just grins at me, then leads me to the bathroom. Without a word he turns the shower on and pulls me in.

The warm water hits us both and I push up against him, licking a few drops off his chest as they make their way down to the same place my hands are headed.

“You want me to wash you?” he asks, burying his face into my neck so I can feel his stubble.

I nod. He pours the body wash into his palm and I let my arms fall to my sides as his fingers work lather all over me. His hands move lower and I melt against the cold tile of the shower wall when his fingertips graze my clit. His hands circle and I push my hips forward, moaning in delight.

“You want my fingers in your pussy?” he asks, tracing his tongue around his lips, the lips I want on my body. He uses it to draw a line down my throat to my breasts, where he licks away the drops of water that fall on them.

I nod my head again and the water pelts down against my skin.

“Tell me, Ivy. Use words. I can’t see your response,” he says as his mouth sucks on my nipple.

I drop my head back and my hair, having grown longer, touches the space between my shoulder blades. “Yes. I always want your mouth on my pussy, your tongue over my clit,” I tell him and gasp when his lips descend farther down my body.

He stops and I peek down at him with a look of urgency. “What?” he asks.

I shake my head. “Nothing.” I’m panting now.

He climbs up my body and his hard muscles touch my skin, sending shivers down my spine.

“What?” He says the word with such tenderness I feel silly mentioning it.

“Tell me,” he says more forcefully and pushes the wet hair from my face.

I close my eyes and just say it. “I want you in my mouth.”

He laughs, and it’s not a laugh that upsets me at all . . . it’s a laugh that makes me laugh too, but our laughter is laced with desire. Our breathing picks up before we stop and I can see the rapid rise and fall of his chest. His fingers twist in my hair and he leans down to kiss me. As he kisses my neck, the water splashes between us like rain. His lips find mine as his fingers release my hair and clutch my head. He turns us around so his back is against the sleek tile, and I smile. Making my way down his lean body, I take my time. I trace the lines of each muscle with my tongue. My mouth eases onto his length and my hand grips his base. He moans at first contact and it’s the sexiest sound I’ve ever heard. He pushes his hips up and I take him all in. I love this side of him—the way he lets go and just feels the pleasure. As I glide my tongue up his length and over his head, my hold loosens as my lips slide farther down. I repeat this movement over and over at a steady pace, but when he makes that same noise again, I move faster and suck harder. Xander takes a long, slow breath and then pulls me up to him.

He turns us back around . . . he’s taking control again and I love it. The shower door has turned steamy and the water mists all around us. His hands slide up my shoulders and then down my arms until he reaches my hands. “You’re so gorgeous,” he says breathlessly into my ear. Water slices down his chest and when he presses his hard cock against me, excitement runs through my body. He lets go of my hands and positions himself at my center. Looking at him, the water on his skin, the way just a few wisps of his dark hair curl onto his forehead, I can’t wait another minute to have him. I lean in and my nipples brush against his chest as I thrust my tongue into his mouth, kissing him hard for a long time. Sliding my lips to his ear, I whisper, “I want you,” and then I kiss his mouth, his jaw, his shoulder. “So much.” I see him quiver. I love how affected he is by my touch. He finally strokes his finger inside me.

“I’m going to take you now,” he growls.

I close my eyes and the water sprays against my face. Resting my forehead on his shoulder as he strokes inside me, I lose all thoughts. “Don’t come yet,” he whispers and I open my eyes. He quickly presses me back against the tile and pushes my feet apart. He kisses my neck, sucks on my nipple, and I have to clutch his muscular back to hold on. “Don’t come,” he growls again. “I want to be inside you when you come.”

Goose bumps cover my body as I try to hold on—the water, him, it’s all too much. I’m still wrapped up in the pleasure of him when he slides into me without warning. I suck in a breath and enjoy his hard cock as he thrusts into me. He moves at a slow pace, much slower than earlier today.

Standing on my tiptoes, I run my fingers through his hair. Then I clutch the muscles of his arms with my hands, pushing myself farther back against the cool marble wall of the shower so he can press farther into me. When I lift my chin I notice the look on his face. That combined with the water dripping in small, even streams from his head to his cheek to his shoulder to where my hands are grasping, squeezing, as he moves in and out, is the most erotic thing I’ve ever seen. When I drop from my toes, his cock goes even deeper inside me. I moan in pleasure at the feeling and he seems to lose complete control—his hooded eyes and the look on his face is one of pure pleasure.

I scream, “Oh God, Xander,” as my back bows and my inside muscles tighten around him.

“Do that again,” he pants, his hot breath caressing my ear.

I do it again and another peak rolls through me before the first one’s even ended. Then I do it again, and this time the overwhelming sensation takes us both, making me feel like the two of us have become one.

“Fuck, Ivy,” he mutters. Resting his head against mine, he manages, “Put your arms around my neck.”

When I do he buries himself in me and the pleasure is pure, raw, full of energy. His mouth slams to mine as we experience something that is beyond anything I’ve ever felt and I hope beyond anything he has ever felt as well. My heart stills, my breathing stops, and I let this feeling consume me. Let him own me with everything I have and everything he has. His body goes limp against my already boneless one and together we stand under the shower trying to recover from something I want to feel over and over.

I cling to him for support and he buries his head in my neck. After a while he lifts my chin. “I’ve never felt anything like that,” he tells me, his mouth lifting slightly as his hooded gaze tells me how much he loves me.

“Neither have I,” I manage, relishing the feeling of his stubbled jaw against my skin.

He grins and then runs his fingers through my hair as his lips dance over mine.

I trace the rim of his collarbone, then wrap my arms around him as the water cascades over us. “I love you so much.”

He sighs contentedly and then whispers against my lips, “I’ve always loved you,” and his words echo with happiness through me because I know he has.

An hour later it’s almost time to leave. Soft music plays from the bedroom and when I glance up from the vanity, my heart beats that familiar thumping. Xander’s standing there with one shoulder propped against the wall, just watching me. He can say so much with just a look—the quirk of his mouth and the rise of his brow make my body flush all over.

“Will you zip my dress?” I ask him, trying not to drool at how incredibly hot he looks in his suit, with no tie, of course. Just like roses, he thinks wearing a tie with a suit is too expected. I turn around as he enters. Damp towels are on the floor from our shower, my makeup is scattered across the vanity, and my dress hangs on the hook behind the door.

Xander loves the dark blue sapphire satin because he says it matches my eyes. It’s short, sleeveless, and just about backless. First, letting his fingertips skim across my skin, he ties the cord that spans my back and holds the dress in place, and I shiver. He moves to the zipper at my side and with his finger he trails a line from my hip to under my arm. He takes his time zipping it and when he’s done he smooths the zipper with his palm and I can barely keep myself upright.

He’s quiet. Not saying a word. I turn around to face him and he’s pressing his fist into his mouth.

“You said you loved it?”

“Fuck, Ivy, it’s sexy as hell,” he growls.

I smile and blush at the same time.

“But don’t you think there’s a little too much skin showing in the back?” he asks.

This actually makes me laugh. I used to think he didn’t want me to show off my body because he didn’t like other guys to see it. But now I think I was wrong—it’s because him seeing so much skin drives him wild, and I love that! I step close to him. “I think it’s the perfect amount of skin,” I whisper hotly against his lips.

He catches my mouth and kisses me. “Yeah, for roving hands who want to feel you in places where they shouldn’t be,” he breathes, sliding a hand into the side of my dress and squeezing my breast.

Smiling, I say, “Trust me, you’re the only one thinking that way.”

I turn around and throw him a wink, but before I can move away his hands are on my hips and when I rock back against him, I can feel the heat and hardness of his cock beneath the layers of fabric. He mumbles something against my skin that sounds like, “Fuck, you’d think I was fourteen again,” but I don’t ask why because the softness of his mouth in my ear and the feel of his breath against my cheek is all I care about. He turns me around and anchors his hips to mine. He slips his arms around my waist and I place mine around his neck. His feet start to move in a slow circle—he’s dancing with me in the bathroom. I strain to hear the lyrics to the song playing as his fingers trace the exposed bumps of my spine. He draws me closer and I can smell his cologne—a mix of the sea, the sun, the earth, and a Mediterranean breeze. I breathe him in and become intoxicated by his scent.

“You smell so good,” I murmur in his ear.

“You like it? I wore it for you.”

“Mmm-hmmm . . .”

My head fits perfectly on his shoulder and I find all the comfort I need for the night ahead right here in him. His hands slide up the center of my back—the skin against skin contact makes me forget any apprehension I’m feeling. He suddenly dips me and pulls me back to him. “We have to go,” he murmurs. But instead of letting me go, he kisses me again.

“We have to go,” I breathe around his lips. I can feel his sexy smile against my mouth, but I somehow manage to break free and make my way back over to the vanity on shaky legs. I pick up my earrings—the sapphires that dangle with stars at the bottom. He grins at me as I put them in both ears. We stare at each other and I’m sure we’re both remembering the woman who gave me her earrings because she just knew I was going to be a star.

I’m still tingling when we get in the car. He hits the gas and takes off, but instead of taking a right to head toward the studio he takes a left. “Where are you going?”

“I’m sorry, baby. I have one stop I have to make before the party.”

About thirty seconds elapse and he pulls over. “Oh, I forgot one thing.” He grins as he pulls out the piece of fabric from Garrett’s yoga swing that he used as a blindfold when he took me to Niagara Falls. “You have to wear this.”

I look at him in surprise. “Why? I can’t see where you have to stop along the way?”

“Just turn around,” he tells me with a smirk, and I do. He ties the fabric around my head and kisses my hair.

I’m not sure how much time passes before he parks the car and turns the ignition off. I rest my hand on the door handle and he says, “Wait for me.”

He quickly opens my door and guides me out. I have no idea where we’re going. Soon I hear the click of a lock and we seem to be inside somewhere, but then I hear another click and we’re back outside. When I hear another lock open, I ask, “Xander, where are we?”

“We’re home, baby,” he says, and his deep, husky voice resonates against my skin. He quickly removes my blindfold and opens the ornate etched-glass door in front of us. I stand in shock as my eyes roam the very familiar room. The built-in window seat, ceiling fan, light blue walls, and bamboo wooden floor are still the same. It looks just like it did the very last time I set foot in it, twelve years ago, except that the countertops seem to have been upgraded to granite and track lighting now glows from the ceiling. But even with the minor changes there’s no mistaking this place he just called home.

“Home!” I cry, turning around to throw my arms around him. “You bought your grandparents’ old house? But how?” I ask.

His eyes meet mine and he doesn’t answer. Instead he drops to one knee, and I swear the butterflies actually flutter out of my stomach. My heart pounds and I’m a little nervous—no, a lot nervous. Xander’s eyes take in every inch of me, but my full attention stays locked on his tranquil hazel eyes. His gaze skims over my dress to the sapphires that never leave my ears, and then it settles on my eyes. In that moment I have no doubts about this man, my life, our life. He pulls a velvet box from his pocket and holds it out. My pulse races as he slowly lifts the lid. What I see in the velvet cushion brings tears to my eyes. The ring flashing so brilliantly there is the ring that his father gave his mother. He’s offering it to me—he wants me to be his wife. It’s simple and perfect and I always thought it was the most absolutely beautiful ring I’d ever seen.

“Will you marry me, Ivy Taylor?” he asks with the slow and easy smile that makes my heart melt every time.

“Yes!” I cry without a second thought, and drop to my knees next to him before he can even take the ring out of the box. I cradle his face in the palms of my hands and tears stream down my cheeks. “Yes, I will marry you,” I whisper. Then I kiss him. I kiss my prince charming with a long kiss that is full of meaning. I don’t want to ever stop kissing him. When I lean back to catch my breath I ask, “You bought your grandparents’ old house for us? How?”

“Luck, fate, destiny.” He shrugs. “Are you happy?”

“Yes!” I say. “Yes, yes, yes!”

His smile is as wide as mine, I’m sure. He nibbles my lip one more time and pulls me to my knees. We kneel together and hold each other and before we stand up he says, “Give me your hand.”

I extend my left hand and as he slides the large pear-shaped diamond on my finger, my other hand flies to my mouth. It’s perfect. The brilliance of the diamond is just so stunning, I’m completely surprised and so overwhelmed. My tears are still flowing and he softly says, “Stop crying. You’re not supposed to be crying.” His eyes are gleaming and he kisses my fingers so gently I feel like I’m floating on a cloud. I just want to hold him, smell him, feel him—forever.

We walk into the building where the unveiling of my new album, My Mended Heart, is taking place. Both of us are literally beaming. We’ve decided not to mention our engagement until the end of the evening, so I turn my ring backward for now. We’re a little late, but not much, and surprisingly Xander hasn’t looked at his watch or even mentioned it. His hand is on the small of my back as we enter the gala, and before we greet everyone I turn to him and mouth I love you. This is the album I always wanted to put out but never had the courage to—until he came back into my life. I allow myself to just stare at him—he’s the most handsome man I’ve ever seen.

I breathe in the scent of the flowers that fill the room and then shift my gaze to admire the glimmer of light from the crystal chandeliers. The room looks as magical as the night already has been. Amazing Grace has been transformed from a concrete hangar into a glittering nightclub. With six crystal chandeliers, dozens of round tables, and more than a hundred vases of purple dahlias and, of course, a splash of ivy, compliments of Xander, this get-together feels more like a welcoming party than a release party.

Bell planned the whole event. I would have thought she’d have been here for hours, but she actually walked in right before we did. Jack and Charlotte dropped her off and she got out of their car with a large bag hanging from her shoulder. We tried to catch up with her, but she was off fluttering around and making sounds that seemed incomprehensible. Xander had just shrugged his shoulders. But his cool facade seems to have evaporated now.

As we make our way farther into the room, his brow creases and I can tell he’s nervous. I bite the inside of my cheek, wondering if I should feel more nervous than I do. I decide to try to calm him instead of joining him in the nerves. “It’s the calm before the chaos,” I tell him, as he stands next to me gripping my hand tightly. Squeezing his fingers, I look around at all the people who are here for me and realize I may have misspoken about the calm. The mood in the room is anything but sedate. It’s full of such real positive energy that no forced smiles are necessary.

My stomach flutters when he kisses my forehead. “You’re going to be great. Don’t let my sorry-ass nerves get to you.”

Wrapping my arms around his neck, I pull him to me. “Thank you.” Then I seal my mouth to his and kiss him in a way that lets him know that with him by my side I know I’ll be fine. Pulling away, we smile at each other. We have both been lavishing these smiles on each other. Smiles that make the world seem all the more perfect. And it is. His thumb traces my lips.

Over Xander’s shoulder, I catch sight of his brother. A minute later a chin rests on his shoulder and arms wrap around his waist. He too smiles. It’s contagious. I motion toward the door. “There’s River and Dahlia. Let’s go say hi.”

Dahlia looks amazing. She’s wearing a pewter-colored halter dress with a chain neck and a large brooch at the center of the deep V. River looks pretty good himself in a suit much like Xander’s, and he as well has opted for no tie. He and Dahlia are fashionably late as always, but since today is their one-year anniversary I think it’s perfectly acceptable. Their tardiness seems to always drive Xander crazy, and River seems to get a kick out of it every time. Over the past few weeks, Xander has ended up laughing along with us. I actually find his reaction pretty funny myself because for someone so much in control all the time, he seems to be letting some of his barriers down.

Xander and Dahlia have a bond that warms my heart. It seems that when Xander first met Dahlia he acted like a real ass. I’m glad to see that they’ve moved past their issues, especially since the day he met her was the day I announced my engagement to Damon. He told me he was pretty drunk by the time they were introduced.

“Xander. Ivy,” River says in such a drawn-out way that it clues me in that he knows something. Dahlia kisses River’s cheek before circling to stand next to him. River searches Xander, and if I hadn’t been looking, I would never have noticed the slight nod Xander gives him. River grabs Xander around the neck and pulls him forward, and with a not so subtle snicker, he says, “A phone call would have been nice.”

Xander’s eyes grow bright with laughter. “Right, bro. Sorry. I’ll remember next time.”

River lets him go. “That’s better.”

Xander slants him a look. “If that’s not a spade calling a spade.”

Before River can counter Dahlia swoops in. “Congratulations,” she cries, kissing me and then Xander in turn as she wraps an arm around each of us, pulling us together for a group hug.

River ducks under Dahlia’s arm and pops up in the middle. He kisses her on the lips. “Don’t forget me.”

Dahlia releases us just as Garrett comes over. “Awww . . . I missed out on the hugs and kisses. What, because we all work together now, I get shafted?”

Laughing at him, I have to say he is the funniest person I know. He seems to love his new job, and I think he may have even gone on a date or two with Ena. He nods hello to each of us and then in true guy fashion grabs River by the collar and jerks him backward. “You’re late, dick. Come on,” he quips. Then he starts to shake his hips and sing, “LA, let’s get this party started!” He sounds so much like B. Taylor, I actually want to hear him sing the whole song.

Dahlia and I giggle as Xander shakes his head and we all watch as River gets dragged away and pulled onstage for a jam session with the guys. They’re all up there—River, Leif, Nix, Garrett, and even Zane. The crowd rushes the dance floor and throws hands in the air, dancing to a cover of “Hands All Over.” I have to laugh because I know how much Dahlia loves Maroon 5. I also know how much River dislikes them. But he must have planned this for her, for their anniversary.

“Excuse me,” she says, and moves toward the stage. Mesmerized, she watches them, her hands clasped near her heart. She grins ear to ear as River sings to her—the performance seems to make her very happy.

Bell finds me in the midst of all the excitement. She too looks beautiful. She’s so petite, but her vibrant emerald eyes and long coppery brown hair make her look like a spitfire. She’s wearing a green strapless romper with metallic flowers on it, and wisps of thin gold chains adorn her neck—she’s stunning and it looks like she’s also a little sunburned. The red contrast against the silky dark fabric makes her rosy all over. Dragging me over to the photo booth she rented, she has me posing in it for at least twenty different pictures. Then she runs off to use them to decorate the tables so everyone knows who I am—I can only laugh at that.

I spot Xander across the room and wave him over to drag him in with me. I try to get him to make playful faces and whenever I whisper something dirty in his ear, he does. These pictures are for me, not for the tables. When we step out of the booth, I’m a little flushed myself.

Sashaying up to us, Aerie greets us in an extremely bubbly manner despite looking very businesslike—her hair is in a bun and she’s wearing a purple pantsuit with pumps, but surprisingly it’s low-cut and shows a hint of cleavage. We’ve spent a great deal of time together since I came back to LA. We get along so well. She’s even shown me some of her uncle’s music collection. She hugs me and cascades kisses on each cheek, then does the same to Xander, who looks utterly shocked at her exuberant display of affection.

“Where’s Jagger?” he asks her.

She gestures toward the makeshift bar with her wineglass. “Oh, Jack caught him on our way in and they’re huddled somewhere.”

Xander’s gaze follows mine across the room. They’re leaning against the bar with their heads together, each holding a glass of beer. Xander crosses his arms and lifts his brow. “What’s going on?”

Aerie giggles. “Jack wants Jagger to help him move No Led Zeppelin’s sound track release date up.”

“But it hasn’t finished filming yet, has it?” I ask.

She shrugs. “No, but Jack’s pushing for an early sound track release around Christmas and then a rerelease when No Led Zeppelin hits theaters.”

Xander nods. “Makes sense.”

“Yes, it’s a brilliant idea, but Jagger is still working on perfecting most of the songs,” Aerie says.

“Get River to help him,” Xander suggests.

“They’ve been coconspiring, but I think they might be spending more time playing around than actually focusing,” Aerie replies, rolling her eyes.

Xander chuckles. “Sounds like I’ll need to pay them a visit.”

Now I roll my eyes.

Aerie snatches the sleeve of photos I have in my hand. “Nice,” she says with a smirk. “I like the one of Xander licking your neck.”

He snags the photo strips from her and she laughs.

“Hey, do you think I can talk to you a minute?” Aerie asks Xander.

“Sure,” he says.

“There’s something I think you should know before it’s announced,” she adds, slipping back into business mode. Then she looks at me and says, “And you and I will catch up later. And don’t forget lunch tomorrow!”

I nod my head. She’s such a type A personality. “I’m going to get another drink. I’ll leave you two to talk.”

As I walk away, I feel a pair of hands grip my waist. “You forgot something,” Xander’s deep voice says into my ear.

I turn my head and feel the tickle of his whiskers against my skin. “What?” I purr.

He gently pulls my mouth to his, and a soft brush of our lips has me tingling all the way to my toes. He runs his cheek down my neck and groans wickedly in my ear before releasing me. And for some reason, this tiny display of affection seems so much more intimate than just a simple goodbye kiss—it has me flushing.

I can feel myself smoldering as he turns back toward Aerie. I stand there and watch him as the two of them engage in conversation. When I snort to myself and break out of my lovesick trance, I continue my journey toward the bar just as Phoebe turns the corner in a knockout champagne-colored gown. She sees me instantly and waves, motioning me over. I look her up and down. She’s dressed so elegantly, she even takes my breath away.

“You look beautiful.” I say.

She’s grinning from ear to ear. “Can I tell you something?” she asks, practically jumping out of her heels.

“Of course. You know that.”

“Nix and I got married today.”

“What?” I scream. I can’t believe they got married on the same day I got engaged. I’m so happy for her and Nix. It’s all so exciting and I want to share my news, but Xander and I agreed to let this night be about the album.

“It’s crazy, I know. We haven’t known each other that long, but it seemed like the right time. Nix loves his new job and I love my new teaching position. We decided what better way to start our new lives.”

“Congratulations, Phoebe! I’m so happy for you. And love doesn’t have a meter, so don’t worry about how long you’ve known each other.”

“Thanks, Ivy.” She’s beaming.

“Come on. Let’s find some champagne to celebrate.”

The night has just begun and I already feel like a princess—but not the molded pop princess that catapulted my career. This time I’m my own person, doing what I’ve always wanted to do—singing about life as I know it and putting my own soulful twist on it.

With Xander at my side, I finally went to see my mother last week. Before that I hadn’t actually seen her in years. I’ve supported her and my sisters but had no contact with them. I’m not sure where my relationship with her will go. She told Damon about Xander and me and God knows what else—I don’t trust her, but she is my mother. In the end we worked out an arrangement giving her some time to work out her finances, but I told her I can no longer be her primary source of income. I’ll continue to support my sisters, but that’s it. Surprisingly, she agreed.

Charlotte is talking to Dahlia and I start to make my way over to them. Dahlia and I have spent a lot of time together. We talked about her miscarriage and she told me she and River are taking it one day at a time. The pregnancy was unplanned, and right now they want to enjoy each other and not stress about getting pregnant again. I was so happy to hear that, because so many couples go down that road. They are so happy together, and I know they will face what comes their way together with love—it’s so obvious how they feel about each other.

We could not have had any more fun putting my album together. Xander, River, and Dahlia all worked together. Xander took charge and managed every detail. River took care of coordinating with producers he thought would best enhance each song. And Dahlia designed my cover, using photographs she took of me—it really is a work of art. When we weren’t all working together in the studio, we were hanging out—going out to eat and even running trails together. Dahlia and I have a common bond—she doesn’t have any family, and in a way neither do I. We seem to be drawn to each other because of it.

“Ivy—there you are.” Bell appears, interrupting my thoughts.

I haven’t spent as much time with her as I have with River and Dahlia, but I’ve known her since she was ten, so I feel a connection to her as well. Tonight she seems nervous, much like Xander, and I have to bite the inside of my cheek to stop from laughing at the similarities between the two of them—similarities of course that neither would ever admit to.

“No more pictures, Bell,” I joke.

She laughs. “Oh God, no, I think Xander might lose it if I ask him to smile one more time.” With that we both laugh.

“What’s so funny?” he asks, putting his arm around my waist and pulling me to him.

“Nothing. Nothing at all.”

Bell’s phone dings and I watch as she pulls it out of the pocket of her little romper. A slight rosy color blooms on her cheeks. “Who’s that? A guy? Maybe a boyfriend?” I tease.

Xander snorts. “You don’t know Bell well enough yet—she always has a boyfriend.”

She puts her hands on her hips. “I’ll have you know, brother of mine, I have not had a boyfriend since Tate.”

Xander raises his arms in surrender. “Wow, calm down. I didn’t know. But I’m just teasing you.”

She quickly slides her phone back into her pocket and gives him a giant smile before slipping a stuffed mushroom in her mouth. “Ummm . . . these are so good.”

“Hey, little sis, aren’t those your favorite?” he asks, pointing to a silver tray with scallops wrapped in bacon.

“Very funny.”

“Why don’t you try one of them for old times?” Xander asks, the tone of his voice dropping.

“No, thank you,” she says almost menacingly.

“I dare you,” he challenges.

Her gaze flits over him in an assessing manner as she reaches for the appetizer. She squishes her nose in disgust and pops it right into her mouth. I think she swallows it without even chewing. Then she covers her mouth as if to stop from gagging.

“Happy?” she says, suddenly waving her hands in the air.

“What? Are you going to throw up?” Xander asks, now with concern in his voice.

She covers her lips again and I think she’s gagging. Her next words are muffled. “I just remembered. I forgot the Bellinis. I’ll be back.”

She scurries off amid the clacking of her gold and silver heels against the floor.

I turn around and catch Xander shaking his head.

“What was that about?” I ask.

“Oh, long story, but Bell has hated scallops wrapped in bacon ever since she ate too many of them years ago and threw them all up. And here’s something else you don’t know about my sister—she can never, I mean never, back down from a dare.”

I lift a brow.

“What? She’s a bundle of nerves. She needed to calm down.”

I put my hands on his chest. “So are you. I think we all are.” The glimpse of his stubbled cheeks makes my fingers itch and I forget all about the fact that I meant to scold him. Instead I run my palms up the side of his face and look into his eyes. After a few minutes I ask, “Everything okay with Aerie?”

“She just wanted me to know who the new owner of Sound Music Magazine is before it’s announced on Monday.”

“Who?”

“No one I really give a shit about or want to talk about now. I’ll tell you later.”

I step closer and kiss the place where my hand was just resting.

He stares at me. “Fuck, you look incredible. I know I already told you this, but I can’t keep my eyes off you,” he whispers.

I can feel the heat blazing in my cheeks from the way he says it. I run my fingers up his shirt, thinking of his tattoo lying just underneath it. The tattoo he got for me. The one I love to trace with my eyes, my fingers, my tongue. I take a deep breath, then rub my hand over his stubbled jaw again.

A wicked grin crosses his lips. “Sorry. I didn’t have time to shave. Someone hijacked me before getting ready.” My pink flush turns to red instantly, I just know it. “Don’t be embarrassed. Feel free to hijack me anytime,” he says, unabashed.

With my hand still on his jaw, I rub the slight stubble one more time. “I like it when you don’t shave.”

He grins and kisses me. “I know you do.”

The rest of the evening is enchanting, spent with Xander’s family and our friends. But now it’s time to debut my new songs and I’m really nervous. But as soon as I hear his voice at the microphone introducing me, my nerves fade away and a contentment washes through me.

“Here she is, everyone—Ivy Taylor,” he announces and steps off the stage before I reach him. I know he wants this to be my moment, but I at least wanted to kiss him. He stands right in the front as I bound onstage. The music begins and I start with the buoyant opener “Rollercoaster,” then move into the slinky number “Jagged,” and then go on to the hypnotic, hitching grooves of “Pure,” which is the only song I wrote after Xander and I got back together—it’s about us.

I surprise Xander by ending my performance with a vampy cover of Prince’s “Little Red Corvette.” It seems appropriate since he started driving the car that we spent so much time in in high school. It’s the perfect song—it tells our story. When I finish, everyone applauds, but no one louder than Xander. He holds out his arm for me to join him, and his familiar gaze is full of heat. He smiles at me and my whole body goes weak. I smile back as he jumps on stage and swings me around whispering, “Congratulations, baby,” in my ear.

We spend the rest of the night talking to the guests. After almost everyone but our close friends and Xander’s family has left, I notice that the band takes the stage again. The music begins, and as I try to place it, Xander takes my hand and leads me to the dance floor. Suddenly I know the song. I smile because, oh my God, it’s “Marry Me.” River begins to sing the lyrics, “He can’t help that he likes to kiss you. And he wouldn’t mind if you changed your name to Mrs.”

No Doubt’s song, of course—Xander always said I looked like Gwen Stefani, and we even modeled our first band after them. As River sings, Xander braces his arms around me and for the second time today starts dancing with me. I bury my face in his neck and enjoy the dance. This is obviously his way of announcing our engagement. Just as the song ends, the applause starts. He lifts my left hand and turns the ring around. Looking over his shoulder, I see his mother right away. She too has tears streaming down her face. Wiping my own tears away, I take a deep breath. “Let’s go hug your mother.”

He gazes at me with those eyes so full of intensity and I know I’m home. “She’d love that,” he says.

“Ivy . . .” Charlotte throws her arms around me and hugs me tightly. “I couldn’t be any happier right now.” She holds me for the longest time and then says, “You really make him so happy.”

Jack flashes a grin and engulfs me in a huge embrace. “We couldn’t be happier for the two of you,” he says, and I swear I see a few tears in his eyes too. He slaps Xander on the shoulder and pulls him in as well, whispering something in his ear that I can’t hear, but whatever it is, it makes Xander’s mouth quirk up.

River smiles at us as he crosses the room with a bottle of champagne in his hand. Dahlia is at his side, snapping pictures. Bell trails behind with a tray of champagne flutes. They must all have known.

River hugs me. “Welcome to the family.”

Dahlia squeezes me. “It’s so amazing that you both found your way back to each other.”

Before I know it, River tugs on the cork and it goes flying. I jump, startled by the noise. Laughter fills the room when he spills a little on the floor and flashes a grin. “I always say I’m not much of a bartender.”

Xander whispers something to him that I can’t hear. River nods and then the two embrace, pulling their sister in as well.

River turns back to the crowd and hoists a glass high for a toast. “To Ivy and Xander. To true love.” We all clink our glasses and tears of joy well up in my eyes. Bell makes a sweet toast, then whispers in my ear that she has to leave but she’ll be calling me to plan the wedding. That makes me laugh—I’m sure she will. Aerie, Jagger, Leif, Garrett, Nix, and Phoebe join us. Several more toasts are made, not only to us but also to a successful album. At this moment life just couldn’t be more perfect.

Looking around the room, I see us surrounded by a group of people who have become my family, and the man in the center of this universe who is my life, my love, my happily-ever-after. He wraps his arms around my waist and holds me tight. “I love you,” he breathes in my ear.

When I turn to look at him, to tell him how much I love him, I catch a glimpse of that boy I loved so long ago, and it makes me think about my life growing up. I wasn’t a little girl who played dress-up, had tea parties, or even liked the color pink—but I was a girl who dreamed of her prince charming and a fairy-tale wedding. That’s why the girl who always wore black clothes and combat boots melted when she laid eyes on him for the first time. At first glance, I just knew he was my prince charming, my happily-ever-after. Now, his teeth find my shoulder for a nibble and I shudder. Xander Wilde the boy may have broken my heart once upon a time . . . but Xander Wilde the man, is the one who mended it.