As if the snap is truly audible in the present, my body jerks away from the sound. I stumble back, falling against the truck. My chest is heaving, hands on my knees as though I have just finished wind sprints. The patter of Ivy’s sandals tapping across the pavement sends me into a panic. I dart up with every intention of getting away from her.
“Zander!” she gasps. “What’s wrong?”
“I can’t do this,” I finally admit. “I want you so badly, but I would never forgive myself if I hurt you. It’s too big of a risk. I would rather know you were safe and never get to see you again than keep you with me and end up killing you. I love you, but I can’t do this.”
My body sags in defeat. I can hardly breathe. My head feels like it’s going to explode. Chunks are being ripped out of my heart with every breath. How did Van do this? How did she give up Ketchup when she clearly loved him? How can she stand to be around him every day and not pull him into her arms, not indulge in the desires I know must eat at her soul?
“Zander,” Ivy says softly, “close your eyes.”
I look up, questioning, but she only repeats her request. I don’t understand, but I do it anyway. Maybe she just doesn’t want me to have to watch her walk away. My head thumps against the truck window. This was such a mistake. I hold my breath, hoping Ivy slips away quietly so I can begin my journey into the depths of misery alone.
I am not prepared at all for the sudden feel of her lips against mine.
The race between hunger and all-encompassing passion that plows through my veins leaves me frozen. I can’t give in to one without the other. I can’t move or think. All I can manage is to relish the feel of her mouth poised so gently against mine. It may have lasted a second, or maybe it was an hour. I don’t know. But when she pulls away, I spring away from the truck to stop her. My eyes snap open to her smile.
“I love you, too,” she says quietly, “and I’m not ready to walk away just yet. Are you?”
“No,” I say, “but I should.”
Her head shakes softly. “No, what you should do is come inside and eat, and then take me to an incredibly boring movie about scientists poking around in underwater caves.”
“Ivy, I don’t want to…”
“Everything will work out, Zander. Trust me.” The surety in her eyes is oddly convincing.
I know what I am capable of better than she ever will, but she has such faith in me that I can’t help but be drawn in by it. She can tell I’ve relented by the way the tension slips from my shoulders. She smiles and starts for the door of the restaurant, knowing I will follow. I think she knows I will always follow.