Page 32 of Yours To Hold
With things picking up at the bar and spending every free minute with Willow, I haven’t had much time to myself. I’m thankful Gramps called to have her over tonight and that Ivy dropped her off over there.
I’m also thankful that the gym is one of the only places open past eight in Dixon. That and the Tipsy Cocktail.
Not that I want to be spending my night drinking where I work.
My phone buzzes in my pocket before I can start my next set.
Peter
Fight about to break out at bar. Need help
Fuck me.If Peter needs my help, there’s clearly a problem. Grabbing my towel, I wipe myself down before shoving it back into my bag and dropping it in my truck on the short walk over to the bar.
People are crowded around the small open area at the front of the bar. Gemma is pushing some guy away from two others that Peter and Nash are now escorting out of the bar.
“What the fuck is going on here?” my voice booms around the quiet bar. It’s quiet for this time of night, considering how many people are here.
“Mason. What are you doing here?” Ivy sounds surprised to see me.
“Got a text that a fight was about to break out. I was down the street, so I came to help.”
“Mason, we’ve got it taken care of,” Peter tells me. “Just a couple of drunk idiots wanting to take them home.”
Drunk idiots. If these two were anywhere else, this could’ve turned out way differently. “What the hell do you two think you’re doing?”
My voice is angry as I turn to Gemma.
She rolls her eyes at me. “Mason, we’re twenty-three. We’re allowed to dance with guys if we want to.”
Now that the two guys are gone, everyone is starting to go back to their drinks. People don’t care now that the excitement has gone down.
“Not if you’re going to start fights.”
“Would you relax, Mason?” Ivy tells me. “God, why are you being like this?”
I grind my teeth together, trying to hold back my anger. I’m fuming.
I have no right to Ivy. She’s not my girlfriend. She’s not even someone who’s interested in me. Hell, she’s my nanny.
So why the hell am I acting like a possessive idiot?
Ivy.
She looks fucking stunning in a black shirt that dips low, leaving very little to the imagination. With the way her arms are crossed, her cleavage is on full display for me.
Which is the very last thing I need to be thinking about right now.
“I wouldn’t have to if you didn’t insist on coming out tonight.”
“Oh, fuck off, Mason! We weren’t doing anything wrong!” Ivy pokes me in the chest.
Gemma and some guy I don’t know are whispering next to us.
“You almost got into a fight at a bar.” My voice is flat, trying to keep the anger in check.
“Almost, Mason. We’re fine. It’s not like I can’t take care of myself.”
“Mason.” The guy Gemma’s with has his arm around her shoulders. Gemma looks absolutely beat. “I’m taking Gemma home. Will you make sure Ivy gets home?”
