Thief: A Bad Boy Romance (17 page)

W
ell that could have gone better
.

I’m sulking later, laying back in the deck chair on the roof of my boat with my feet kicked up.

She’s in Boston by now, with that douchebag. And I get it. I’m not actually childish or jealous enough to think she’s there for any other reason besides that she
has
to be there.

But that doesn’t mean I have to like it.

The other part of this is the sort of ambiguity we’ve fallen into here. I mean we’re falling right back into the old ways and going down the same paths we took all those years before, but we haven’t actually addressed that.

We haven’t said what that
is
, or what it means.

I mean, we’re married, but that joke’s getting old and I know it.

Are we friends? Friends who fuck? Or is it something more?

I want that third one. I want the third one and
then
some. I want everything with Ivy that I always assumed I’d have before it all went to shit. I want everything with her that I promised to her in vows spoken in a church rectory.

Acting like a selfish, jealous little jackass earlier was
hardly
the way to show her that.

I slump back in the chair and frown at the small ferry in the distance as it putters around the breakers.

My personal storm-cloud is broken though by the pitter-patter sound of small feet running down a pier. I turn and grin as I see Stella with her son running ahead of her coming down the docks towards me.

“Carter!” She catches up with him, swinging him up into her arms. “No running on the dock, honey.”

He squirms, but she hoists him up and raspberries his belly, melting his little scowl away in a fit of giggles.

I smile as I climb down from the roof of the boat. “What are you two doing down here?”

I reach out and help Stella climb aboard.

“I thought you might want a friendly face.” She gives me a wry look. “And I also thought you might want to actually meet your nephew.”

I do a double take, blinking at her.

My nephew, as in, family.

She pushes her fingers through her hair and holds my eyes with a fierce gaze. “Look, I
know
, okay? About you and Ivy.”

My jaw drops. “What do you-”

“I
know
,” she says quietly, jerking her hand up and flashing her bare ring finger at me with a meaningful look.

Oh.

Shit.

I stare at her, dumbfounded. “She told you?”

Stella nods. “Pretty sure I’m the only one she did, but yeah.” She shakes her head at me. “Jesus, Silas, she had to tell
someone
after you left like that.”

I meet her hard gaze. “I’m not the monster you think I am, Stella. You know that.”

“I
knew
that,” she says, her eyes narrowing. “But that was before you left.”

She leans closer out of toddler earshot. “By the way, I’m not quite ready to forgive you for doing that, either.”

“You know it’s complicated.”

She smiles thinly. “Yeah,
heard
that one before, sport,” she says, nodding meaningfully at Carter. “That’s a guy favorite for why they can’t act like men.”

I glare at her, but she holds it, throwing it right back at me.

I break first, looking away before glancing down at her son. Bright blue Hammond eyes, tow-headed blonde like his mom.

I hate that I wasn’t around for this.

Stella was basically my older sister growing up, even if we’re the same age. She’s always acted older, and she grew up fast. Had a kid fast, that’s for sure. And
God
should I have been there for this. For one, I wish I’d been there when Carter was born, to be the uncle I should have been. Well, secret uncle, or something.

The other part of me wishes I’d been here so I could have knocked the teeth down the throat of the dumb prick who walked away from her when she was pregnant.

“So, you’re Carter, huh buddy?”

He moves behind his mom’s leg.

Stella sighs. “Carter it’s okay honey, this is your Uncle Silas,” she says, shooting me a look.

I kneel, smiling at him. “How’s it going, little man?”

“Good,” he mumbles quietly, eyes wide.

“You’re being good for your mom, right?”

He nods, wide-eyed.

“Good boy.”

He smiles.

“Can I get a high five?”

He grins wider and nods as I raise my palm. He smacks it, and I glance up to see Stella smirking.

“I’m trying to make things right, Stel,” I say as I stand. “I’m trying to be the man I need to be here. I’m not running from this, not anymore.”

She nods slowly, her eyes sizing me up before the corners of her lips pull up just enough to count as a grin.

Well, at least I’ll be counting it.

I turn back to Carter. “You like fishing, buddy?”

“He’s four, Silas.”

“Well, high time he learned then.”

She gives me a look.

“I could show him how to pick a lock or steal a candy bar if you’d rather.”

Her look sours, but she looks away to try and hide the grin that comes to her face.

“C’mere, buddy.”

I duck into the wheelhouse and grab a spool of fishing line and a lure hook from the rusty old tackle box that was in there when I rented the place. I lace on the lure and cut off a length of line before I kneel next to Carter at the back of the boat. He looks on with big, wide eyes as I show him how to hold on and dangle the line over the side.

I turn back to Stella, who looks reluctantly impressed.

“So. You and Ivy are….?” she trails off, raising a brow at me.

I shake my head. “I don’t know what we are, but I’m working on it.” I hold her look. “I’m not giving up this time.”

Stella moves next to me, her hand ruffling her son’s hair as he stares intently down the line into the water.

“Silas, I wanted you to meet Carter, and I want to believe things are good now, but I haven’t totally forgiven you.”

“You know why I left.”

She nods. “I know why, but that doesn’t mean I like it. You were better than all that, Silas.”

I shake my head. “No, I wasn’t.”

I glance down at my nephew, feeling anger at all the years I missed, but also this glowing warm feeling at being so close now to what I’d always wanted.

Family.

“You all
wanted
me to be better than that, but I wasn’t.” I look up into Stella’s eyes. “But I am now.”

Carter suddenly screeches as he looks up at me sharply with a wild look on his face and the line jumping in his small hands.

Stella laughs. “Did he actually catch something?”

I kneel next to Carter, who’s cackling away as I help him pull the line up out of the water with the flip-flopping 2-inch flounder flailing around at the hook.

“Fish!” he says with almost wonder, his eyes round as he stares at his tiny catch.

“Yeah, buddy!” I throw my hand up for another high-five, and he smacks it. “You got one!”

I take it cleanly off the hook for him, letting him see it flop in my hand before I toss it back into the water.

He giggles.

“I’m not going anywhere, Stella,” I say as I stand. I glance back at Carter.

“I’ve got a lot of making up for lost time to do.”

“
H
i
.”

I glare at Blaine’s smug, tanned, bleach-toothed face in the hotel lobby.

“Oh, hi.”

“Ivy,” he reaches out to touch my arm but I pull away.

“Contractually obligated, Blaine,” I say icily. “That is the
only
reason I’m here right now.”

He nods, looking contritely at the floor. “That’s fair, I deserve that.”

I roll my eyes. “Please don’t play the victim card. Spare me.”

He nods again. “Thanks for being here.”

“I told you, contractually-”

“No, I know, it’s just-” he shrugs. “Ivy, your brand is better than mine, and we both know it. I know you’re carrying me, and I just want to say thank you.”

“Please don’t.”

I’m literally counting the minutes until this ridiculous thing is over. I’m here to mingle, smile for the branding teams from sneaker and cosmetic companies, and eco-travel destinations. I’m going to smile, I’m going to shake some hands, snap some pictures where I pretend I don’t want to drown Blaine in the punch bowl, and then I’m going home.

To Silas.

“Ivy, I know you don’t believe me, but that whole thing from before, that really was a photoshoot. There’s no one else.”

“That’s great, Blaine,” I say evenly, not smiling.

“I have to go.”

“So we’ll meet here in the lobby before we head out?”

“Fine.”

I think he’s about to say something else, but I ignore him as I turn and step towards the elevator banks. The doors to one open, and I blink as I suddenly come face-to-face with my assistant.

“Ainsley!”

She jumps at my sudden greeting before she focuses on me “Oh, Ivy!”

I throw my arms around her. “What are you doing here?”

She frowns as she pulls away. “Uh, my job?”

I grin. “Sorry I meant I didn’t know you were
here
here. Are you staying in the hotel?”

She nods. “Yeah, Lori and her crew put me up for tonight too.”

“So how’s Boston been? You’ve just been staying with your friend?”

She blinks quickly. “What?”

“Your friend? Isn’t she someone you went to college with?”

Ainsley clears her throat. “Oh, right, yeah. It’s been fun. How’s home been?”

I arch my brows. “It’s been…
interesting
.”

“What happened with that guy you hit on the pier?”

I laugh. “It’s a
very
long story.”

She glances down at her wrist watch. “Can it wait? You have to be ready in two hours or Lori is going to have a fucking meltdown.”

I grin again and give her another quick hug. “I’m so glad you’re here for this shit-show.”

* * *

A
fter a long
, hot shower, I check my reflection in the mirror in the hotel room mirror. Lori and her team have picked out this slinky black thing with tiny shoulder straps and silver sequins that wash down one side like a wave. I have to give her credit, it looks
great
.

I finish piling my hair up on top of my head, the slight curl I’ve given it post-shower falling to my shoulders and giving me that “casually elegant without trying” look that I’ve actually spent the better part of two hours trying to nail.

People always forget, even when they do it themselves, that the photographs people post online are the best of a bunch you took. We all forget that what people post about themselves is the highlights reel - the polished and shined side of what are ultimately the same, plain, everyday lives we all have. The same rough patches, the same bad hair days, the same hangovers, regrets, second thoughts, and heartbreaks.

I frown as I think of the way I walked away from Silas down at the docks before I left - at the way I snapped at him like that. Being home in Shelter Harbor and being around him - it’s bringing it all back. It was never simple with us, but I just want it to all be how it was back then.

Fresh, innocent, fearless.

We were like little kids who go barreling down the hill on their bikes - fearless because they don’t
know
they can get hurt. It’s not until you
do
fall, and realize how much that hurts, that you’re suddenly more guarded, and more cautionary in how you do it the next time.

I want to unlearn the hurt. I want to forget the history and the regrets and the broken hearts.

I pick up my phone and call him, but my face falls as it goes to voicemail. I try a second time before sighing and stuffing the phone into my clutch and meeting my own eyes in the mirror again.

I take a deep breath.

Okay, time to do this.

* * *

“
W
here the fuck is he
?”

I’m pacing downstairs, checking the clock on the far wall of the lobby and grinding my teeth.

Blaine’s late, of course.

I mutter under my breath. “Seriously, he’s had two damn hours to put a fucking suit on. What’s taking him so long?”

Ainsley is silent when I look up.

“Ains?”

“Hmm?” She jerks her head up as if I’ve just startled her out of her thoughts.

“Blaine?”

She blinks. “Yes?”

“Do you know what’s keeping him?”

“Oh,” she blinks again, looking bizarrely and very uncharacteristically unfocused and scatter-brained. “I don’t know?”

I groan. “Okay, I’m going to do this stupid event, but I am
not
going to be late because Blaine’s rubbing tanner on his face or whatever he’s doing.”

I scowl as I turn and storm towards the elevators.

“Whoa, where are you going?”

My storming away breaks Ainsley out of her weird daze as she comes scurrying after me.

“To drag Blaine down here so we can get this thing over with.” I jab my finger at the elevator button.

“I’m sure he’s coming, Ivy.”

“Well he will when I go drag him out by the collar.”

“Ivy, we should just wait.”

Ainsley is frowning and checking her watch skittishly, but she follows me into the elevator.

Blaine’s shirt is unbuttoned when he answers the door to my impatient knocking.

“Oh, uh-”

His eyes dart from me to Ainsley standing behind me.

“Um, hey?”

I roll my eyes. “Are you seriously not ready yet?”

He blinks quickly, his eyes darting between Ainsley and I again. “Yeah, sorry, I got distracted.”

I follow him into the suite as he tucks his shirt into his suit pants and grabs his jacket from the back of a chair. He stops in the mirror, posing with these
ridiculous
facial expressions, as if he’s trying out for the cover of GQ instead of going to a stupid vendor gala.

Ainsley is wringing her hands, standing just inside the doorway when I glance up at her.

“Ains.”

“Yeah?”

I give her a small smile. “Relax, we won’t be late.” I turn and sigh heavily at Blaine, who’s still preening in the mirror.

“So long as
someone
gets their fucking hair in place so we can go?”

Blaine looks up, smiling. “Well, shall we?”

I roll my eyes again as I turn to my assistant. “Ains, can you call for the car?”

Her face is white as she frowns.

“Ainsley?”

She swallows. “I, uh, I can’t find my phone.”

I furrow my brow at her. “You sure you’re feeling okay today? You look ill. Is it in your bag?” I nod at the huge shoulder bag she’s hardly ever without.

Ainsley frowns as she starts to dig through it. “I- I don’t know.”

I sigh another exasperated groan as I open my clutch. “Look, I’ll just call it.”

“No! That’s-” She looks up at me quickly. “That’s okay, I’m sure it’ll turn up.”

“Why are you being so weird?”

I give her another curious look as I hit the call button on my phone.

Her phone rings its distinctive tone - the theme from
Friends
, and I watch as her face goes white.

The phone rings again, and I’m still staring expectantly at her bag, even though that’s
not
where the sound is coming from, when it suddenly hits me.

I turn slowly at the sound of the television theme song ringing melodically from across the room.

…From somewhere in Blaine’s bed.

I look up to see him looking at me in the same weird, slightly fearful way she is, and then it all clicks.

Oh, wow.

I’m dizzy from it, turning to stare at the two of them as Ainsley’s tell-tale phone goes quiet in the silence of the room.

“
Wow
,” I say quietly, shaking my head and locking eyes with my assistant - my
friend
.

She looks away quickly.

“This is
actually
amazing,” I mutter before barking out a humorless laugh.

“Blaine, you have outdone yourself.”

“Ivy, it’s-”

“Right, not what I think it is, is that it?” I look at him pitifully. “Please, spare me.”

I turn back to my assistant, this time narrowing my eyes at her until she looks up mournfully at me.

“And you?” I tsk as I shake my head.

“Ivy-”

“Go fuck yourself. Or Blaine, I honestly don’t even care.”

And then I’m gone, storming down the hallway.

I take the elevator to my floor, grabbing my things from my room and shoving them in my overnight bag.

I don’t even stop to change.

And then it’s down to the lobby, out the front door, and directly into a cab to North Station.

Because I’m not upset, and I’m not even that angry.

I’m just tired.

And I want to go home.