Chapter 5 We Had Fun

Chapter 5: We Had Fun 

Ivy 

The universe had a sense of humor. A cruel one. The kind that didn’t just trip you. It waited until you stood up again before pushing you back down.

That was the only explanation I could come up with as I stood in the airport pickup lane, keys no longer in my possession, watching Marcel slide comfortably into the driver’s seat of my car.

My car. My safe space. My exit strategy. My perfectly planned independence.

Gone.

“My luggage barely fits in Leo’s trunk, dear,” Julia said gently, adjusting her scarf with that soft, apologetic grace that made it physically impossible to say no to her. “So this is actually for the best. And most importantly, Marcel forgot Andy’s present at the hotel. We have to pick something up for him and his girlfriend on the way back.”

She offered me a hopeful smile—the kind that suggested she already knew the answer.

“I hope you understand, sweetheart.”

And like the traitor I apparently was to myself, I nodded.

Of course I understood. Of course I agreed. Of course I surrendered my car, my control, and my emotional stability within the span of thirty seconds.

“I’ll bring it back in one piece, Ivy,” Marcel promised cheerfully, settling into the seat like he owned it. “You ride with Leo.”

Right. Of course I would.

My gaze shifted toward the sleek black sports car idling beside the curb.

Leo leaned against it like he was plastered there, one arm draped lazily over the roof, posture relaxed in a way that felt intentional. Effortless confidence radiated from him—the quiet kind that didn’t even need to announce itself.

Poppy leaned close, voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “It’s just a ride, Ivy. Try not to threaten him.”

“I didn’t threaten him,” I muttered.

“You wished luggage-related misfortune on him, didn't you?” 

“That was justified.”

She laughed softly before I caught her sleeve. “You told me his name was Lionel. Why are you calling him Leo?”

Her brows knit together in confusion. “I never said Lionel. His name is Leopold.”

I blinked.

“Not Lionel,” she repeated patiently. “You probably misheard.”

“Did I?”

She squeezed my arm reassuringly. “See you at home, Ivy.”

And just like that, they drove away. My car disappeared into traffic. My control vanished with it. Which left me alone… with him.

Leo opened the passenger door with unhurried politeness. “After you, my lady.”

I glared at him, my fingers tightening around the hem of my hoodie. 

He watched me calmly, as if he had nowhere else to be. “Relax,” he said lightly. “I admit I do bite.”

I narrowed my eyes.

His mouth curved slowly. “But that's only if you beg nicely.”

I got into the car without responding. Mostly because my mouth couldn't form any words at the moment. 

The interior smelled faintly of leather and something warm and woodsy—clean, masculine, very expensive. The kind of scent that lingered without even trying.

Leo slid into the driver’s seat and started the engine. The car hummed to life. And for several moments, silence filled the space between us.

Not awkward. Not empty. But just a little charged.

“So,” he said eventually, glancing sideways, “do you always wish strangers bad luck, or was I a special case?”

“You stole my parking spot.”

“You hesitated.”

“I was aligning the car.”

“You were judging the angle.”

I folded my arms. “You’re impossible.”

He smiled faintly. “And yet you’re still here.”

I turned to the window, but I could feel it—the weight of his attention. Not invasive. Not uncomfortable. But observant. Very observant. Like he was cataloging details I hadn’t agreed to share.

“You grew up with them,” he said after a moment. “Anderson. Poppy. Marcel.”

It wasn’t a question.

“Yes.”

He tapped the steering wheel thoughtfully. “I’ve visited the Douglas home a few times. I would remember if I’d seen you there. I've never actually seen you around here.” 

There was curiosity in his voice. No accusation. No pressure. Still, my fingers fidgeted in my lap.

“I left Weeping Willow when I was sixteen,” I said quietly.

“Why?”

The question was simple. But the answer wasn’t.

I hesitated, choosing words that wouldn’t betray the storm beneath them. “Life changed,” I said finally. “I wanted something different. Something bigger.”

He hummed softly—unconvinced, but respectful enough not to challenge it.

Traffic slowed and he shifted gears smoothly. “The name’s Leopold Van Teague,” he said after a moment, tone carrying quiet pride. “But Leo works just fine.”

The way he said it suggested recognition was expected. It didn’t come. The name didn't ring a bell. 

“Ivana Lennon,” I replied. “But everyone calls me Ivy.”

His eyes flickered toward me, something amused dancing within them. “I have a feeling,” he said, voice thoughtful, “that this summer is going to be very interesting, Ivana.” 

The way he said my name felt intentional. Like a prediction rather than a casual remark.

I didn’t answer because something told me he wasn’t wrong.

~~~~~

The Douglas house glowed like a lantern against the deepening evening.

Strings of lights framed the porch. Red balloons drifted gently in the breeze. Rose petals scattered across the walkway as if someone had tried to choreograph romance itself.

My breath caught.

Andy had really gone all out. Not for me. But for Maddie.

A familiar knot formed in my chest. “Wow.” I whispered. 

“Everything alright?” Leo asked quietly.

I forced a nod and unbuckled my seatbelt. “Yeah. Thank you for the ride.”

He studied me for a moment longer than necessary, as if trying to decode something unspoken. “My pleasure… Ivana.” 

The name landed differently this time. No one called me that anymore.

“It’s Ivy,” I corrected automatically.

He smiled faintly. “Sure, Ivana.”

I rolled my eyes, stepping out of the car. “Whatever.” 

The porch steps creaked softly beneath my feet. Before I could knock, the front door opened.

Andy stood there. For a heartbeat, his face showed pure surprise. Then something shifted.

His gaze moved from Leo… to me… to the space between us. Something sharp flickered behind his eyes—awareness, calculation, something unsettled.

“Ivy,” he said warmly, though tension threaded beneath the greeting. “You’re back.”

“Yeah.”

Leo stepped forward casually. “Anderson.”

“Leo.” Andy nodded, but his focus didn’t linger on his stepbrother. His attention returned to me, studying me in a way that made my skin prickle.

“Everything okay?” he asked.

I opened my mouth to answer, but Leo spoke first.

“We had fun. Got quite acquainted with each other really quickly,” he said lightly. “You never mentioned Ivana. I would have visited more often.”

Andy’s jaw tightened almost imperceptibly. But it was gone in a flash. “Why are you both together?” he asked. “Where’s my dad? Where’s Poppy and Julia?”

Leo only smirked.

I cleared my throat. “They’re on their way back. Marcel took my car.”

Andy didn’t reply. He was still watching us. Watching Leo. Watching me. Watching the invisible thread that seemed to exist between us now.

Leo moved past him without hesitation. As he entered, he extended a hand toward me like it was the most casual, natural thing in the world. 

I didn’t think. Shockingly, I took it. His fingers closed around mine, warm and steady, guiding rather than pulling.

I followed him inside.

Behind us, Andy remained at the doorway, silent. I felt his gaze long after we crossed the threshold.

The house smelled of fresh flowers, scented candles and polished wood. Music played softly somewhere deeper inside. Candlelight flickered against walls decorated for celebration.

Leo slowed suddenly. I did too. And then I saw why. My half-sister, Maddie. 

Maddie sat in the living room, posture elegant, expression bright. She sat cross-legged, flipping through a book. 

Then she looked up. 

“Hi, sis,” she said, smiling sweetly.

My throat tightened. Of course she was here. Of course she looked radiant. Of course she belonged effortlessly in a place that still somehow felt like borrowed space to me.

I forced a smile that felt fragile at the edges. “Hi.”

Behind me, I sensed rather than saw Andy approach.

And just like that, the carefully balanced calm inside me fractured. Because the universe wasn’t just laughing. It was setting the stage.

And I had the uneasy feeling I’d just walked into the center of something I wasn’t prepared to face.