Falling to Pieces Read online

  “No, that was just an added bonus.” Billie smiles. “Mostly I want you to go to this party with me.”

  “Why do you want to go this party so bad?”

  “I just want to go out and have fun, and I want my best friend to come with me.”

  My lips curl upward a little. Rarely does she call me her best friend, even though I know I am.

  “Is that a yes?” She raises her brows.

  I shake my head. “No, I don’t want to go.”

  “Ivy Marie Johnson, I’m taking you to this party even if I have to drag you there in your sweats.” Billie cocks her head to the side, and gives me a challenging stare.

  My stomach clenches. I can tell she means business. She called me by my entire name and everything. At this point it will be easier to give in than to keep arguing. Billie knows how to get her way. Besides, I’m pretty sure that she’d really drag me to a party in my sweats. I’ve had that dream before, and I can only imagine it would be worse in real life. “Fine, I’ll go.” I grunt, reluctantly peeling myself off the couch. “But I’m not going to have any fun.”

  “We’ll see,” she says, the shadow of a smile playing on her lips.

  I stagger to my room and close the door. While perusing my closet, I curse myself for allowing Billie to talk me into this. The last thing I want is to go to some party with a bunch of strangers. My fingers brush over my little black dress, and a memory of the last time I wore it flits through my mind. It was just a couple of months before that fateful night, and I was out with Asher and a group of our friends. I yank the dress off the hanger. Maybe a night with strangers is exactly what I need. It definitely beats running into people I know in town, like when Peyton and her friends showed up at the restaurant. Perhaps Billie is right, and it’s time to meet new people and move on.

  I take off my sweats and pull the black dress over my head. Then I move to my dresser and release my hair from the ponytail holder. It falls to my shoulders, but it has a funny kink in the middle, so I flick on my straightening iron. After applying a little makeup, I run the flat iron over my hair until it is sleek against my face. I put on some sparkly earrings, slip into my black strappy sandals, and walk into the hallway.

  “Wow, for not wanting to go you sure put in a lot of effort into your outfit.” Billie’s gaze runs the length of my body.

  I almost turn around and change. Especially when I see that she is wearing her usual jeans and low cut top.

  “In that outfit you’re going to have every guy at the party drooling. I have a feeling that you’re not even gonna remember Asher’s name by the time we get home.” Billie grabs her purse off the table. “You ready?”

  I nod, and force myself to walk forward even though Billie’s words make me uneasy. I’m not sure I want the attention of every guy at the party, and more importantly, I’m not sure I want to forget all about Asher.

  My misgivings only grow as Billie drives. With each mile I fidget more with the hem of my dress and wish that I’d worn jeans like Billie. What was I thinking when I put this on? It’s going to seem like I’m trying too hard to impress. I’m going to look easy. Great. The last thing I want is to be the prey of every guy at this party. By the time Billie pulls over, I’m ready to run back home. Billie steps out of the car, but I keep my butt planted on the vinyl seat.

  “Coming?” Billie comes around to my side, and opens the door.

  My stomach knots. “I’m not sure. Why don’t you just go? I’ll pick you up later.”

  Billie closes her fist around her keys. “No way. I’m keeping my keys, so if you want to go back home you have to walk.” She glances down at my high heeled sandals. “Good luck walking for miles in those shoes.”

  I groan, angered again by my stupid outfit. Billie just laughs as I climb out of the car. She slams the door behind me, and together we walk across the street. My heels click on the pavement, and Billie’s boots jangle. I pull my dress further down my legs, wishing that I could trade clothes with Billie. My hair feathers over my bare shoulders as we make our way up to the house. We walk right in since the door is open. The family room is littered with people, and a soft music beat pounds under my feet. My gaze sweeps over the room, but I don’t see anyone I know.

  “Hey, I didn’t think you’d make it,” a male voice says from over my shoulder. I whip around to see Brandon flashing Billie a cheesy grin. Yep, it’s just as I suspected. He does like her.

  I glance over at Billie and see that she’s staring at him with the same look. So, she does like him too. I appraise him. I suppose he’s kind of cute, in a boy next door kind of way.

  “Wanna grab a drink?” he asks Billie. In fact, I don’t even think he’s noticed that I’m here.

  Billie peers over her shoulder at me, giving me a questioning glance.

  I nod, shooing her away. “It’s fine. Go.”

  She grabs my hand. “No, come with us.”

  I’m grateful to Billie for holding my hand and including me. I can tell that she wants to be alone with Brandon, but the truth is that I’m not really ready to leave her side yet. Maybe after I’ve had a drink or two…or ten.

  My heels click on the tile announcing our arrival to the crowd in the kitchen. A group of guys sitting around the kitchen table whip their heads in our direction. When their eyes rove over my body, I hug myself and look away. If I do end up meeting someone it won’t be one of them. Judging by the glazed look on their faces, I would say they’re already pretty hammered. Billie follows Brandon toward a couple of ice chests, and I practically cling to Billie’s back. We make our way past the counter and out of the corner of my eye I see a couple sitting on barstools and talking. When the guy laughs, I freeze. I’d recognize that laugh anywhere. Slowly I pivot my head in their direction, and a surprised breath escapes from my lips. Luckily he’s not looking at me. No, he’s pretty intent on the cute blond he’s chatting with. Jealousy rears its ugly head, and I shove it down.

  “Beer?” Billie asks, shoving something ice cold into my hand.

  I am in a state of shock, and my fingers don’t seem to be working properly. The beer slips from my hand and crashes to the floor. Cheeks reddening, I lean over and scoop it up.

  “Ivy?” Asher’s stunned voice says from behind me.

  Billie’s mouth flies open, and her gaze shoots over my shoulder as I stand back up. She gives me an apologetic look, but I just shake my head. It’s not her fault. She didn’t know he’d be here. How could she? Since when did Asher start hanging with this crowd? He’d only been back a week and apparently he’d already made a slew of new friends, including Miss-Blond-Thing over there. Of course I don’t know why I’m surprised. He’s always been charming and easy to get to know.

  Holding the beer in my hand, I turn toward him and give him my bravest smile. “Hey, Asher.”

  He smiles back, but I can still see the disappointment in his eyes betraying his true feelings for me. Unable to look any longer, I hold my head high and walk out of the kitchen. Once I’m in the family room I allow myself to breathe. I lean against the wall and take huge, heaving breaths in an effort to regain composure. Not only is Asher here, but he’s with another girl, and I dropped a beer in front of him. At this point I’m not sure this night can get any worse, but knowing my luck it probably will. I’m hoping I can talk Billie into leaving now.

  Billie races to me. “Oh, Ivy, I’m so sorry. I had no idea he’d be here.”

  “I know.” I sigh.

  “Are you gonna be okay?” She asks with concern etched on her face.

  I open my mouth prepared to say no and ask her to leave, but then Brandon calls out, “Hey, Billie, come here, check this out.”

  Her eyes light up for a moment. Then they find mine again and grow serious. Billie has done so much for me, and I know she wants to stay here. I can’t make her leave just yet. Despite what she said earlier, I can tell she likes this guy. I contemplate asking for her keys again, but what kind of friend would I be if I leave her to fend for hers
elf at this party? I don’t really know Brandon that well, so I should probably stay and have her back.

  “I’ll be fine.” I force a smile.

  “Thanks.” She leans in close. “Besides, maybe this is good. There are a lot of cute guys here. Go mingle. Maybe you can even make Asher a little jealous.”

  I roll my eyes as she heads toward Brandon. Holding the beer far from my body, I pop the top. Fizz sprays out of it and foam fills the lid. I suck it off with my mouth, while shaking the liquid off my hand.

  “Hey, need a little help with that?”

  I look up at an incredibly cute, dark haired guy. “No, I think I got it. Thanks.”

  “I’m Dustin.” He holds out his hand.

  I wipe my sticky hand on my dress before extending it. “Ivy.”

  “Oh, I like that. It’s like—”

  “Poison Ivy. Yeah, I know. I get that a lot,” I interject, not wishing to hear the nickname Asher has for me come out of anyone else’s mouth.

  Dustin chuckles. “No, I wasn’t going to say that. I was actually going to say Ivy League.”

  “Oh.” I bite my lip, a little embarrassed.

  “I don’t think you seem poisonous,” He teases. “Are you?”

  I shake my head.

  “Did someone play a prank on you?” He indicates the fizzing beer.

  My face warms. “No, I sort of dropped it.”

  “Well, then maybe we should go sit down.” He winks. “Just to be safe.”

  I smile up at him and shrug. “Why not?”

  When he takes my hand in his and leads me to the couch, I tell myself I’m not doing this because of what Billie said. This has nothing to do with making Asher jealous. Dustin seems like a nice guy, and I just want to have a little fun tonight, that’s all. Even so, I find myself glancing over to the kitchen to see if Asher notices me. When I see that he’s still completely engrossed with the blond, I chastise myself for even checking. After all, it’s for the better. I shouldn’t want Asher to be jealous. We’re both adults, and we’ve never even gone out. We were friends and nothing more.

  8

  Asher

  I am shocked to see Ivy here in this kitchen, especially wearing that tight black dress and high heels. What’s she trying to do to me? It’s so hard to tear my eyes away from her shapely legs and curvy body. But then she gives me that hard look and races out of the kitchen like she can’t get away from me fast enough. Frankly, it pisses me off. I should be the one mad at her, not the other way around.

  Sydney doesn’t seem to notice how agitated seeing Ivy has made me. At least if she has she’s not letting on, and it hasn’t stopped her from talking. She pretty much hasn’t stopped talking since I sat down. For seeming so shy when I first met her, she definitely has the gift of gab.

  As Sydney keeps chatting, I watch Ivy and Billie whispering harshly in the entryway. For a minute I think they might leave, but then Billie leaves Ivy to meet up with some guy.

  “Don’t you agree?” Sydney asks, pulling my attention back to her.

  Huh? If only I’d been paying attention. “Um…yeah, I do,” I finally say, figuring that agreeing is usually the safest bet.

  This appeases her, and she smiles before continuing on. As sweet and cute as she is, I’m just not sure I could go out with a girl who doesn’t ever shut up. That’s another great thing about Ivy. She doesn’t mind the silence. Most girls feel like they have to fill the quiet with noise, but Ivy can appreciate the moments when words aren’t needed. So many times we would ride on my bike in silence, and then get to the lake and sit on the beach just enjoying nature and not talking at all.

  When we were juniors, my friend Shane was killed in a car accident. My girlfriend at the time drove me nuts with how much she wanted to talk about it. It was like she felt that if I wasn’t expressing my feelings then something was wrong with me. Ivy knew I just needed to process it. She came over to my house and just sat with me. She didn’t say a word, she just let me grieve.

  A guy approaches Ivy, and my chest tightens. I know that I have no right to get upset. I’m not her boyfriend, but for some reason I want to slam my fist into the guy’s face when he starts talking to her. When I see them walk to the couch with their hands linked, my stomach plummets. She can’t really be into that guy, can she? I smirk, taking in his collared shirt and pressed pants. The guy’s a total douche bag, I can tell.

  “Are you even listening to me?” Sydney yanks me back with her words.

  I look at her, and smile. “Of course.”

  “Oh, it’s just that you seemed a million miles away.” She flutters her lashes and purses her shiny lips at me.

  “No, I’m right here,” I assure her, even though I know that my mind is in the family room with Ivy.

  “Cool. Anyway, I feel like an idiot.” Pink rises on Sydney’s cheeks. “I’ve been rambling on forever.”

  You can say that again.

  She peers up at me with this innocent look. “I don’t normally act like this. It’s just that you make me nervous.”

  I find my heart softening a bit at her admission. Maybe she isn’t so bad. I place a hand over hers. “Don’t be.”

  She giggles. “Well, tell me a little about yourself.”

  “Okay,” I say, my palm still resting against her fingers. “I’ve lived in Folsom all my life, but last year I moved to LA for school.”

  “Really?” Her eyes light up. “I love LA. One time my friends and I took a trip to LA for a week in the summer and it was so much fun. We went to this one place—” She presses her lips together and sits back. “Sorry. See what I mean? Go on.”

  I smile, and open my mouth to speak again. But before I do, my gaze sweeps back to the family room. My stomach twists at the sight of that guy with his mouth clamped over Ivy’s, and his hands all over her body. I tell myself to just turn around and ignore it, but then I see her hands come up to his chest and forcibly push him back. Only he doesn’t do as he’s told. In fact, he presses in closer, and his hand moves up to cup her breast. She pushes his arm away with her hand. “Stop,” I hear Ivy protest, but the guy just keeps coming at her like a freaking octopus. Anger surges through me, and I jump up.

  “Where are you going?” Sydney asks.

  “Excuse me a minute.” Without looking at her I stalk out of the kitchen, making a beeline for Ivy and this loser. “Hey, I think she asked you to back off,” I say, clenching my fists tightly.

  The guy looks up at me, annoyed. “Actually she was having a good time until you came over here.

  “It didn’t look like it from where I sat.”

  “Asher,” Ivy interrupts, but I put up a hand to stop her.

  “You have two seconds to get out of here before I put my fist through your face.” Everyone in the room has gone silent, as they all stare in our direction. Ivy’s face reddens, and she fiddles with the hem of her dress.

  “You could’ve told me you had a boyfriend,” the guy says harshly before getting off the couch and slinking away.

  “I could have handled that myself,” Ivy scolds me as she stands up.

  “It didn’t look like it,” I respond.

  She shoves past me and stomps toward the front door. “I’m surprised you even noticed.”

  I grab her arm, whirling her around to face me. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Only that you seemed pretty preoccupied when I saw you in the kitchen.” She shakes my arm off and races out of the house.

  Despite my better judgment, I follow her. “Ives, come on.”

  She stands in the middle of the front yard, her hair billowing around her face and her cheeks flushed. She looks so good I want to kiss her right here. Only I know that would be stupid, so instead I shove my fingers down into the pocket of my jeans.

  “What?” She shrugs. “It’s fine. You can go back to your girlfriend. I’m alright now.”

  I step closer. “She’s not my girlfriend. Hell, I didn’t even know her until an hour ago.”
/>   “Well, then get to know her.” She waves me away.

  “I would, but there’s someone else I’d rather spend time with.” I move even closer to Ivy until we are standing only inches apart.

  She tenses, but doesn’t make an effort to step away. It causes my pulse to race. Her eyes lock with mine and there’s something in them that I just can’t quite read, but I feel a connection between us that is almost palpable.

  “I thought you hated me,” she says.

  “I could never hate you, Ives,” I say truthfully. “Even if I wanted to.”

  “So you want to hate me but you can’t?” She raises her brows. “I don’t know if that makes me feel better.”

  “I know what would make me feel better.” I lower my hand, running my fingers along the hemline of her incredibly short dress. She swats my hand away and jumps back, but not before I see the smile that passes over her lips.

  “Asher, stop. You’re just as bad as Dustin.”

  “Is that his name? Dustin?” The familiar anger burns through me.

  Ivy points a finger at me. “Don’t go after him, Asher, it’s over. I should’ve never flirted with him in the first place.”

  “You flirted with him?” I curl my mouth upward. “Show me.”

  Ivy rolls her eyes, and groans. “Man, all guys are the same.”

  “I’m sorry,” I say. “Maybe if you weren’t so damn sexy you wouldn’t have this problem.”

  “I don’t think being sexy is a prerequisite for trying to get in someone’s pants. Most guys I know aren’t that discriminating,” Ivy banters back.

  I wonder why every girl can’t be like her. “Think what you want, but I know what I see, and it’s pretty sexy.” Giggling drifts from the driveway, and I notice that the same couple is still out here making out. I grab Ivy’s hand and tug her toward the front steps. Once I reach them I lower myself down and sit on the bottom one. Ivy follows me. Her floral perfume is carried on the breeze. When she sits, she tosses a strand of hair over her shoulder, exposing her neck. It’s so sensual I have to look away. Her dress creeps up her legs, and she pulls it down. That’s the thing about Ivy. She may have it, but she’s uncomfortable flaunting it. I reach out and run my fingertips over her thigh. Goosebumps break out on her skin, and she tucks her leg closer to her body. “I think maybe the dress is a problem too.”