Worse for Love- Book #3 in the WF Series

Chapter 18: Case

✩ Kai's POV ✩

That was literally one of the best things that has happened to me in...forever.

Do you understand how big of a relief it is to admit to myself that I've wanted to do that and other things to and with Ivy since the day I met her?

God, she looked so beautiful. Not in a "she is beautiful and everyone knows it so I'm just pointing out the obvious" type of way. I'm not saying bullshit like that after what happened.

No, I'm talking she is beautiful to me in a way that I can't put into words.

Hearing her say that we only had sex because we needed to get it out of our systems hit me straight in the chest. I don't want that whatsoever.

But, then again, I don't know anything about relationships, and in my time of knowing Ivy, the last thing she wants is just that. She's made it clear that she doesn't believe in love or relationships or basically anything of that sort. I may give out advice on it because I want my friends and the people I care about to experience it, but truthfully, the only kind of love I know is the kind you're born into with your family. Outside of that, I'm just as clueless as the rest of us. I just don't play dumb with common sense things like "Hey, if she says she likes you, I may be crazy, but maybe she likes you."

That usually throws them for a loop.

I walk out of the restroom.

The second we had finished, Ivy pushed me back with her hand on my chest, took my shirt, and told me that it was good before saying that she was going to shower. I think that may be one of the biggest compliments she's given me. That, and her moans from earlier, but that deflated seconds after we were finished.

This is the reason I can't be sure when it comes to her.

I profile people for a living, and yet one woman has me more confused about everything than ever. One second, she's moaning beneath my body, looking at me almost like the way I look at her, and then the next, she's walking away and avoiding all eye contact. Ivy doesn't avoid eye contact. Usually, this would mean that it was awful. That she hated every minute of it, and if that was the case, I'd probably apologize.

But that's not the case.

She does things one minute and then another the next. And if I call her out on it, I know she'll say something that'll make me feel like the dick and that's the last thing I want her to think about me.

But then it also feels like she's doing these confusing things to not admit to something. But then, like I said, I feel like the dick for assuming that.

I know a lot when it comes to people, but when it comes to Ivy, I can't understand a lot. She takes up half of my fucking headspace and yet I can't decipher half of what goes on in her brain.

"You need a better shampoo. This one felt like it was taking apart my roots." Ivy walks downstairs, wet dripping hair and my button-up shirt she took from me after we were done. She also has a pair of shorts on which I'm guessing she brought with her. I can tell she's also reapplied her makeup since before she had a darker look and now it's gotten softer.

"Oh, and your shirt was comfortable so I'm wearing it," she says nonchalantly.

The way she can act so normal as if none of that ever happened. As if I didn't just take her on that couch or my fingers weren't just in her mouth or inside of her.

God, I can't get the way she sucked on my fingers out of my mind. I can't get any of it out of my mind. It's physically impossible.

"I'm hungry though. Let's make those pancakes."