Like when he tore off her dress after that night at Maxwell’s . . .
Damn. There he goes again.
The gym. That’s where he should go. It’s been a while since he kept to a regular schedule, and tonight is a great time to change that. Play some loud music, lift some weights, run on the treadmill until he drops.
Best of all, Ivy won’t be there. She isn’t a member and prefers to exercise outdoors. Perfect.
And it is. Right up until he walks into the gym.
She doesn’t see him, but he sees her. Impossible to miss Abigail. She’s on one of the weight machines, working out those long legs, her red hair pulled up in a high ponytail.
Granted, she’s been as mature and cool as anyone could be after a one-night stand with someone in the office. Wes, not so much. He still feels a little uncomfortable around her. And a bit ashamed.
Tonight, he wants an escape from everything, including her. The gym isn’t it.
He spends ten minutes sitting in his car, wondering what to do with himself. Briefly, he considers going to the grocery store, buying a ridiculous amount of food, and spending the evening cooking. Maybe grilling on the barbecue.
But not being able to share it with anyone—with Ivy—eliminates that idea.
A bike ride or a hike are the only ideas he has left. But it’s starting to get dark, so the hike is out unless it’s a short one. And a bike ride . . .
He sighs. All the energy he had for working out is gone. He tries to get it back, tries to motivate himself into driving home, grabbing his bike, and riding until he collapses. He even starts his car and puts it into reverse, only to shut it off again.
Wes glances at the door to the gym, knowing he has to leave before Abigail does. As he starts his car again, a sign across the street catches his eye.
The movie theater.
He can’t remember the last time he went to a movie. There always seems to be something better to do, but right now sitting in the dark and eating a lot of junk food sounds pretty good. And he doesn’t need any energy to do it.
He walks over and studies the list of films and start times. Unfortunately, the action film started forty-five minutes ago. That leaves him with the documentary or the drama. Neither sound like the best escape, but he picks the documentary, because it’s about animals instead of people. Wolves, to be exact.
Fifteen minutes into the movie, he learns that wolves mate for life. The documentary is an animal love story.
* * *
—
Ivy sits at Dominique’s, not at all energized by the activity around her. It’s her first night out since going to Liver and watching Wes leave with those girls. Tonight, she didn’t want to go out at all. Heath insisted.
“Doesn’t it feel good to be here?” he says.
No. “Sure, it’s okay.”
“You can’t sit at home and wallow.”
“I haven’t been wallowing. I’m in the mourning period. Which is a necessary and healthy thing.”
Heath gives her a look. She ignores it. And she hasn’t been wallowing or mourning. She’s been disappointed. Wes never reacted to that picture she posted online, didn’t contact her at all. The only ones who did were Milo and his fiancée.
At least it gives her something to talk about with Heath.
“That guy never said he was engaged,” she tells him. “Never mentioned a girlfriend or anything.”
“Did you like him, though?”
“Not at all. I’m just saying: If he had told me, I wouldn’t have posted the picture.”
“Yes, you would have. That photo was for Wes.”
Heath has a point. She probably would’ve posted it, but she wouldn’t have tagged Milo and he never would’ve seen it.
She looks around the bar, seeing only the couples and none of the groups or single people. This is why she didn’t want to go out. Love is everywhere. Or lust. Something more than what she has right now. They all look so cute and so happy, and it makes her feel sick. Especially that couple right across from her, who are obviously in the falling-in-love phase and oblivious to everything else.
Ivy hates them.
She nurses her drink, limiting herself to one after that last drunken escapade. The last thing she wants to do is call Wes again. Mainly, because she’s too scared. She’d rather not know who might answer his phone.
“Hey,” Heath says. He nods toward a guy who just walked in the door. “I know him. Nice guy.”
“Not tonight, please.”
“Someone new is what you need.”
No, that’s the last thing she wants or needs, along with being in this bar. Every time she looks around, she spots another couple. It’s disturbing. And rude.
“Let’s go to a movie,” she says.
“A movie? When was the last time we went to a movie?”
She puts down her drink and stands up. “I can’t sit in here any longer.”
They leave and stand around in the parking lot, looking up what’s playing and the start times. Fair Valley only has two theaters. One is older and plays art house flicks; the other is a multiplex with six screens.
Heath rattles off the titles: a superhero movie, a thriller, an Oscar contender, a documentary. They go in one ear and out the other. Ivy doesn’t pay attention, doesn’t care. Which is how the night gets even worse.
It isn’t until she’s sitting in the theater with popcorn, soda, and candy, that she realizes which movie Heath picked.
“We’re seeing a rom-com?”
“You love rom-coms,” he says.
Used to. Ivy doesn’t say that out loud. She sinks down in the chair, thinking horrible thoughts about everyone and everything in the movie. The only part she likes is when they break up in the middle because of some misunderstanding.
The last few minutes, though. She won’t watch that.
“I have to go to the restroom,” she tells Heath. “Meet you in the lobby.”
“But you’ll miss the—”
“They all end the same way.”
With a lie.
On her way back into the theater, she sees a guy in the distance. He’s walking out the front door, into the parking lot, and he looks a lot like Wes.
No. Couldn’t be. Wes never goes to the movies.
Her mind is playing tricks on her. That rom-com really messed with her head.
44
Bianca doesn’t answer the call from her lawyer. Sends him straight to voicemail. It’s not that he is a bad guy. She likes him—she really does. He’s a friend of her father’s, and he wants her to sue.
“Don’t you want Siphon to be held accountable?” he keeps saying. “Don’t you want them to pay for employing someone like Tanner?”
The first thing she had wanted to do was not get arrested. Now that the police have said they won’t be pressing charges, maybe she’ll think about a lawsuit. Money doesn’t seem like enough, though. Like they can just pay her off and everything will be okay.
But that decision can wait. Money isn’t her concern right now, and it won’t be, as long as Siphon keeps paying her. Her only focus is Wes Harmon.
Because of Joey.
In a roundabout kind of way, what happened to Joey was her fault. She has been to therapy for that, too. It helped a little, because now she doesn’t believe his death is 100 percent on her. Maybe 50 percent.