Okay, almost everyone posted a comment on the last chapter saying not to make her pregnant and it would be cliche etc. Sorry, but she is preggers. HOWEVER! If you read my other stories, you know that I don't like writing the same things as everyone else. I promise, promise, PROMISE that there will be a twist (nothing to do with vamps or werewolves) and that it's not gonna be like other stories.
Oh, and sorry I had to upload this chappy 3 times. It kept putting it as 'rated R' so I had to change it a bit. If you want the rated R version, leave your email in the comments or send me a private message.
I hope you'll keep reading this story, and, if you do, you'll see what I mean.
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Chapter 10
Ivy's POV
I woke up to the sound of the smoke alarm blaring. It was a piercing screech that sounded like it was coming out of my ears, and it was terrible. Michael wasn't next to me, and I assumed the worst. Still wearing his shirt, I hopped off the bed and went to look for him. "Michael?!" I called over the noise.
"I'm in here!" I heard him say from the kitchen. He didn't sound like he was in danger, so I relaxed and went to see what was going on. As soon as I entered the kitchen, I laughed.
Michael was shirtless and standing by the stove where something was on fire in the pan. "I love a man who can cook," I said sarcastically.
"Does that mean you're breaking up with me?" he asked playfully. He turned the sink on, took the handle of the pan with an oven mitt, and held it under the water so the flames would die and the blaring finally stopped.
"Yup. Unless, of course, you can convince me not to."
He left the pan in the sink since the flames were gone and walked over to me. "I'll get right on that," he said softly, and kissed me languidly; lazily. Then he pulled away and looked at me with concern in his hazel eyes. "Are you okay?"
I knew he was referring to my break down yesterday. Well, that ruined my mood. Shamefully, I put my head down. "I'm sorry about that."
He put a finger under my chin, forcing me to meet his gaze. "You have nothing to be sorry for. Please, just tell me what that was about?"
Looking back, I was embarrassed at how I reacted. I didn't want him to think badly of me, so I just answered, "I don't wanna talk about it."
"Will you please talk to me, Ivy? You're driving me insane. Do have any idea how worried I was yesterday?" He looked at me pleadingly.
I felt guilty. Upsetting Michael was the last thing I wanted to do, but I was so disgusted with myself, and I wouldn't be able to handle it if he looked at me like that. He must have seen something in my eyes because he softened his voice and asked, "Is it about your parents?" I nodded. "Just tell me what's wrong."
"I don't want you to think less of me."
"It's impossible for me to think less of you." He caught the double meaning in his words and quickly said, "Wait, wait, I didn't mean it like that-"
My laughter cut him off. "I know what you meant." I took a deep breath and let it out, looking at the floor. "I was thinking about what my parents would think if they knew what I was doing the past few years since they've died. They were good parents, and I basically threw everything that they taught me in the trash." Tears threatened to spill over, and I blinked rapidly.
"Ivy, look at me." When I didn't, he framed my face in his hands and tilted it up. All I saw in his eyes was sincerity as he said, "You were going through a rough time dealing with your parents' death. Nobody is going to think less of you for that, least of all me. You dealt with it through sex; lot's of people do that. It's not a big deal."
"It wasn't just sex," I confessed in a whisper. "I did drugs, too."
"What kind of drugs?"
"Cocaine and Marijuana."
"Again, so what? As long as you're not still doing it, it doesn't matter."
"You may feel that way, but my parents would be . . . enraged. When they died, I broke nearly every rule they told me to follow."
"Why? Why did you do the opposite of everything they told you to?" He wasn't saying it in an accusatory way, more like he already knew my answer but wanted to hear me say it.
"Because I felt like they left me, and that no one else cared." That was the first time I'd ever admitted it aloud.
He nodded like I gave him the right answer. "Exactly. If anything, I think your parents might feel guilty, but they love you and would easily forgive you."
Tears were rolling down my cheeks, but I managed a wobbly smile. "When did you become such a therapist?"
He smiled back at me before wiping my tears with his thumbs, and hugging me to his chest. "I'll be whatever you need me to be." We stayed like that for a while; him rubbing my back and comforting me while I tried to get my tear ducts under control.
"You know what I just realized? The word 'therapist' is made up of the words 'the rapist'." I laughed at his completely random statement.
Since we were already talking and there were no barriers between us, I asked the question that's been on my mind since the first letter from Steven. "Why are you putting up with me? You could find a girl without all this drama in her life."
"'Cause she wouldn't be you, and I love you."
My heart stopped, and then started pounding rapidly. However, I was still doubtful. "Don't say that unless you mean it." My voice shook.
"You know me; I wouldn't say it for no reason. I might say it to get you to cook, though."
"Oh, really?" I asked, dragging the word out.
"Did it work?"
"Do you want your eggs scrambled or sunny side up?"
He laughed and kissed me; just a peck on the lips. "Scrambled. When you're done, we'll watch a movie. Have you seen Step Brothers yet?"
I shook my head. "I heard it was funny, though."
"'Funny' does not even begin to describe it." He kissed me again, this time more thoroughly, and went to the living room.
A few minutes later, while the eggs were cooking in a clean pan, my phone rang. It was charging in the living room, so I asked, "Michael, can you answer that?"
"Yeah, sure." I heard him walk quickly to the other side of the room, the ringing stopped, and he said, "Hello?" There was a pause. "Yeah, she's right here. Hold on one second." He walked toward me with the phone in his hand and said, "The caller ID said 'Boss'."
"'K, thanks." He didn't leave the kitchen after I took the phone from him. I put it between my ear and my shoulder while I poured the eggs on two plates. "Hey, Boss."
"Hello, Ivory." Uh-oh. By the formal tone of his voice, I knew something was up.
"What's wrong?" I put the pan in the sink and brought the plates to the table.
"I got an interesting call yesterday afternoon. Someone claimed that you threatened them at the restaurant." This had Steven written all over it.
"What?! You know I'd never do something like that." Michael was watching me with a curious expression.
"He threatened to sue us, Ivory. You've been distracted at work lately, you come in almost late every day. Frankly, I'm not willing to put the restaurant at risk for you. I'm going to have to let you go."
I hesitated a second before saying, "I understand."
His voice softened. "If you need any recommendations from me, I'll gladly give them."
"It's fine. Thanks for everything." Hanging up, I was pissed beyond words. I wasn't mad at him, I was mad at Steven. Boss was just being smart with his business, and I couldn't hold that against him.
"What happened?" Michael asked cautiously.
"That bastard got me fired," I said in a shocked, outraged voice. "He called saying I threatened him at the restaurant and said he was gonna sue."
"Sh*t, babe," he said, putting his arms around me. "I'm sorry."
I shrugged weakly. "You didn't do anything."
He kissed the top of my head and said, "Come on. I promise that movie will cheer you up." We both grabbed a plate and a fork and went to the living room.
It was on the main menu screen, and Michael clicked 'play' on the remote. Almost before the opening credits finished, we were done eating the eggs. He gave me a piece of Winter Fresh gum from his pocket after, because who likes egg breath? Gross.
He was right; the movie definitely cheered me up. It was impossible not to laugh.
When Brennan (Will Ferrell) said, "I'm gonna put my nut sack on your drum set!" Michael put his hands over my eyes.
I laughed, "It's not like I haven't seen one before."
"Yeah but from now on, the only one you're gonna be seeing is mine." He turned my face to his and kissed me possessively.
The 'boats and hoes' song REALLY made me laugh. Especially since Michael rapped the words in my ear. "The Nina, the Pinta, the Santa Maria. I'll do you in the bottom while you're drinking Sangria! Nachos, lemon heads, my dad's boat. You won't go down 'cause my d*ck can float." He had to stop then because we were both laughing too hard.
*****
After the movie, we sat on the couch, making out. Michael laid us down so we were facing each other, my back against the sofa. I was still in his shirt, and he started unbuttoning it from the top slowly, while he kissed me. I broke away to say, "Michael! Not down here; there are windows everywhere and you have neighbors. Let's go upstairs first."
He looked at me with lust and frustration in his eyes. "But that would require getting up."
I laughed, "Lazy ass. Come on. I need a shower anyway."
That look of frustration was replaced with more lust. I kissed him slowly for a few seconds, invading his mouth with my tongue, before hopping over the back of the sofa and running upstairs, laughing. Surprise was on my side, so I got about a 2 second head start before I heard him running after me.
"I'm gonna get you, Ivy!" he shouted, also laughing.
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After we were both spent, I just laid on his chest, listening to his heartbeat. "I love you," he whispered in my hair.
I tilted my head up so I could look him in the eye, "I love you, too." His heart started racing under my ear, and I smiled.
For the moment, everything seemed like it would be okay.