A Workaholic

Ivy ran into her living room, her mind reeling with what had just happened.

What had she done? She had crossed a line she swore she wouldn't, but there it was, happening. She leaned back on the door, pressing her hands to her forehead, trying to make sense of her emotions. Her heart was still racing, the echoes of his lips lingering on hers.

What was that? She thought. Why did I kiss him back? Why didn't I stop him?

Her fingers trembled as she raised her hands to touch her lips. She couldn't stop thinking about how his lips felt against hers, how his hands had felt on her skin.

Ivy's mind was a mess. She had spent so long convincing herself she didn't need anyone—convincing herself that opening up to someone like Hunter would just lead to disappointment because he was a player.

And now, after everything, what? She had fallen for him. She had kissed him, and that action would tell him so much. What was that she had seen in his eyes? Love too?