Your Ivy Grows

Chapter 31

I feel a sense of loss when Barnes finally collapses on the bed beside me. I miss the feel of his body blanketing me. Sounding as out of breath as I feel, he reaches for me. Pulling me into his side with one arm while the other throws a sheet over us both. Neither of us seems to care that we're coated in sweat, we just lie there together.

With my head resting on his shoulder, arm draped over his muscled chest, leg thrown over his, I realise this is a first for us. I'd have thought this would feel awkward, but it doesn't. Being in his arms, it feels natural—I feel at home. That revelation should be enough to make me bolt; I don't. Instead, I listen to the steady beat of his heart and enjoy every second of this time together. It helps to drown out those dreaded alarm bells in my head that tell me I'm losing sight of what this is.

I still feel too worn out to lift my head, but I let my eyes wander around the room, hoping to get a glimpse into his life. But I'm not surprised to find it as devoid of personal touches as the rest of the apartment I've seen so far. The walls are painted a light blue, but there're no photos lining them. The nightstand next to the bed also houses nothing. There's a dresser against one wall, but other than that, the room is bare. It hardly seems lived in at all and I wonder if he recently moved in or if he doesn't feel a need to make the apartment feel like a home.

I'm pulled out of my thoughts when I feel his fingers trailing lazily up and down my arm. I'm worried that this feels so right. My heartbeat picks up because I don't know what to do with that information.

"You win." I say finally, feeling a need to break the silence. He moves, tipping his head down to look at me. "We're something."

"Something, huh?" He brings his hand up to my chin, his thumb toying with my bottom lip. Ever so slowly, he tilts my head back until we're looking at each other. There's an amused smile tugging at the very corner of his mouth.

"Yes, Barnes, something." I say with as much conviction as I can muster.

He lies there, considering me for a moment before responding.

"I'll take it," he relents. "It's much preferable to you telling me we're fucking nothing."

There's no anger or bitterness in his voice, instead he says it while that smile is still teasing at the corner of his mouth. I can't help but think back to how wounded he'd seemed at my easy dismissal during that night. And, hell, I've come this far, so I might as well open up a little more here. He deserves an apology.

"I hope you know I had no idea what that night was in honour of before that ridiculous speech. John didn't tell me. He'd have had to drag me there kicking and screaming if I'd known."

"I know." He pauses for a moment before continuing. "At least I do now. It just took me by surprise; I didn't handle it well."

His eyes look off to the side briefly before returning to mine and I realise he's not proud about how he reacted.

"But after I left that night, it didn't take me long to realise that you'd never have let me walk into that party without warning me if you'd had any idea what it was for."

I'm relieved that he at least knows me well enough to know I'd never do that to him.

"I didn't exactly handle it well either. When you found me in that alley—" I pause, trying to think of how to explain it. I can't bring myself to tell him what John said to me. He doesn't need to know everything about my shitshow of a marriage. "Let's just say you couldn't have found me at a worse time. I was upset and angry and I took it out on you when I shouldn't have. I'm sorry."

I'm a little ashamed that he seems so surprised to hear those two words falling from my lips. But I can't exactly blame him. I've probably owed him more than a few apologies since we met and been far too stubborn to say them.