Thief (A Bad Boy Romance)(18)
“Silas, it’s exactly what it looks like because you became exactly what everyone said you’d be.”
I can feel my brow furrow. “Oh? And what’s that, sweetheart?”
“A townie.”
She spits it out like it’s this dirty word and I snort. “Got news for you, Ivy. We’re both townies.”
“I left.”
“Yeah, so did-”
I snap my mouth shut, but Ivy barks out a mirthless laugh.
“Doesn’t look like it helped though. Here you are, right back in this fucking bar.” She nods at the backwards baseball hat on my head that I borrowed from Rowan. “You’ve got the townie Sox hat on and everything. Oh and picking up girls like that?”
She jerks her head at the bathroom door.
I fold my arms over my chest. “You done?”
“Hardly.”
I take a step towards her and she moves back, her back against the hallway wall behind her.
“Please, continue. What other wonderful stereotypes have I managed to live up to?”
“Being the thieving liar you were always going to be.”
“I never lied.”
“So is that a ‘yes’ on thieving?”
I say nothing.
Dead on the money.
It was petty shit here, back when we were kids. It was lifting candy from Conlin’s drug store, a bottle of warm beer or two from the loading dock of this place. That all changed with the heist that night, eight years ago.
That’s the night I went from junior varsity to the big leagues in the blink of an eye and the flash of a gun. And I’ve been playing the game ever since, working all sorts of jobs for Declan’s people over in Dublin.
The thing is, I’ve only been great - truly great - at two things in this world.
Taking things that don’t belong to me, and loving Ivy Hammond.
…You could maybe lump that second one into the first.
Ivy snorts at my silence. “Yeah, exactly what I thought.”
“I never lied to you,” I growl, feeling my pulse jump up a notch.
Her eyes dart across mine, her teeth rake across her lip.
“You told me you loved me, Silas.”
Her words are quiet, but icy.
“You told me forever.”
The color rushes into her cheeks, as if she’s embarrassed to admit she remembers that.
I sure as fuck have.
“You told me ‘I do,’” she almost whispers.
I step into her suddenly, pushing her right back into the wall behind her as my hands land on either side of her.
Fuck.
It’s both totally different and exactly the same, being this close to her.
It’s her scent.
She’s got new shampoo, new perfume, and new clothes. But people just smell a certain way, even if you can’t explain it.
And she smells like home.
She always has, and goddamnit, she always will.
She bristles as I close the distance between us, a shiver visibly running through her. Her pupils go wide, her sweet, soft lips part.
And I’m right back to being a kid again.
I’m right back to kissing her on the pier, in my truck, on the roof of this damn bar.
“Step back,” she whispers, her lip trembling and her eyes locked on mine.
“Excuse me?”
She slowly shakes her head. “Step away from me, Silas.”
No fucking way.
Because as much as she’s getting under my skin, and as much as I want to call her this uppity city girl who’s left this small town her rearview mirror, I’m drawn to her like a fucking magnet. I’m glued to those eyes and dying to taste those lips. Being this close to her is like being starving and coming across the best meal you could ever imagine.
Being this close to her is like coming home.
“I need to go,” she says quickly.
“Where.”
She swallows thickly. “I need to call my boyfriend.”
I grin. “Now is he aware that you’re a married woman?”
Her eyes glare daggers at me.
“Don’t think I won’t throw this beer in your face, because I will.”
I wag my brow. “Beer, huh? I thought you were this big health nut yogi now.”
“I’m going for a run tomorrow.”
I laugh. “Jesus, I was kidding, Slimy.”
Her eyes narrow. “Do not call me that,” she snaps. “And I’m not your wife.”
“I beg to differ.”
There’s a crash as her beer smashes to the floor. Ands suddenly, she’s shoving me back, turning the tables as I go tripping into the wall behind me with her finger right in my face.
“You. Gave. That. Up.” she hisses through clenched teeth.
She steps back, her shoulders dropping as if barking at me deflated her a little. She shakes her head at the broken glass and beer on the floor. “I- I need to go.”