The Business Proposal

Chapter Ten

Ivy wiped a hand over her sweaty brow and stood to her full height. The basket of freshly dried washing strained against her hands. She struggled with its weight until she finally made it to the elevator down the hall from the basement laundrette. One day, she promised herself she'd move somewhere that would allow her to have her own utilities room all to herself.

It wasn't that she hated the communal laundrette, but her generalised dislike of laundry meant she usually had more than a few baskets of washing. One basket she could handle carrying from her apartment on the 16th floor to the basement. By the fourth she was worn out and tired of staring at the laundry room walls.

She'd taken one of her worn paperbacks with her, but her mind had been too preoccupied. When she'd read the same paragraph for the third time, she'd placed the book down in frustration, knowing who was to blame for her distracted mind.

Ethan Carter had eased himself into her life with relatively minor effort.

After he'd dropped her back at her apartment the previous night, he'd walked her right to her door and had placed a chaste kiss on her lips before giving her his phone number. She'd remained standing outside, watching his retreating back until he'd disappeared from view.

When she'd finally rescued her keys from her bag and opened the door, she couldn't help but notice the smile that graced her face. Her eyes had sparkled back at her from her reflection and her cheeks were infused with colour.

Her dreams had been no less colourful, and she'd spent most of the night tossing and turning in her bed. Her body overheated and arms stretching out for someone that wasn't there. Hence why she'd tackled her least favourite job in the hope to keep her hands busy. But it had backfired on her entirely.

The elevator dinged on her floor and she hefted her basket back into her arms. Her legs shook under the weight, another reminder she needed to start running again.

She turned the last corner before her apartment and froze at the sight of two men standing outside her door waiting for her. Neither had noticed her yet, and she contemplated turning around and heading back to the laundrette. Perhaps it was a coward's move, but she didn't care. Better to live today than get chewed out by her friends.

Before she could act on her thoughts, George turned and narrowed his eyes at her. Too late to escape now. She admitted defeat and began making her way towards them.

George gave her his megawatt smile like he knew what she'd been thinking and found the idea of her running from them very amusing. Liam just stared at her, analysing everything.

This was the way they'd been since children. George was the big personality, outgoing and loud. A trait he'd inherited from his American parents along with their typical good looks with blonde hair and blue eyes. Despite living in the UK from the age of five, he still held some of his father's southern drawl.

Liam was the exact opposite. He was quiet, more thoughtful, and measured every word he said. She supposed that was a product of his early life running wild on London's streets. Where the wrong words could get you killed. His grey eyes were mesmerising, and his black hair hung down past his shoulders.

Despite their differences, they seemed to work seamlessly.

"I've got this, you just open the door. Your neighbours have been giving us funny looks." Liam took the basket of washing out of her hands, looking up and down the corridor at the locked doors.

"Well, were you two making out again?" She smirked at them playfully, seeing George's smile grow and a faint blush appear on Liam's cheeks.

"No comment," he replied dryly, looking anywhere but at his husband and friend.