The Kiss that Sparked it All

Chatper 2009

Chapter 2009

Ivy was utterly baffled by his assumption, a frown creasing her smooth forehead. She wasn’t angry, not even close.

“Wait a sec. Why do you think I’m mad?”

Balfour cocked his head, his expression one of mock confusion.

“I’m not mad, really,” Ivy said, flashing a wry smile, “I just don’t know anyone here, so I feel a bit out of place,

that’s all. But mad? Nope, not me.”

But no matter what she said, Balfour had already whisked her away from the clubhouse, and there was no turning

back.

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“Just hop in the car.” Balfour swung open the passenger door, ushered her into the backseat, and then slid into the

seat opposite hers. The designated driver was already waiting, keys in the ignition, ready to go the moment they

were settled.

Ivy wanted to clear the air, but it seemed pointless now, so she chose silence over futile explanations.

Without a word, Balfour directed the driver to head back to the movie theater. Pulling Ivy along, he climbed the

stairs at a time.

“Two tickets, next showing,” Balfour commanded, snapping up tickets for the movie they’d missed earlier.

As Ivy took the tickets, she winced inwardly at the cost-another twenty bucks down the drain.

“Balfour, this is such a waste,” she muttered.

The first ten bucks had felt like throwing money to the wind, and now here they were again. It wasn’t as if the

movie was going away, and it would be online eventually. There was no need to spend more money on it, especially

since it wasn’t exactly Oscar material.

Balfour seemed agitated by her prattling, “Are you watching it or not?” he growled, fixing her with a glare.

Ivy bit her lip, knowing better than to argue, “Of course, I’m watching.”

If she bailed now, Balfour would bolt, and the tickets would go to waste. She couldn’t let that happen.

The movie started at 11:40 p.m., and in the dark expanse of the theater, it was just them, and no one else had

come.

In the quiet, the only sounds were the movie’s dialogue and their own breathing.

Nervous and preoccupied, Ivy couldn’t focus on the film. She glanced at her phone, and it was 11:50 p.m.

Soon it would be midnight, and Balfour’s birthday would be over. She hadn’t known about it beforehand, but now

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that she did, she couldn’t ignore it.

“Balfour,” she whispered, turning to face him, “I’m sorry I didn’t know today was your birthday until Giselle started

the celebration. I just found out.”

“OK,” Balfour grunted, slowly turning to meet her eyes.

Their gaze locked, and in the dim light of the theater, something flickered between them, charged and intimate.

Feeling his stare, Ivy nervously dropped her gaze, “Balfour, it’s not midnight yet, so it’s still your birthday. I guess it’s

not too late to say Happy Birthday.”

He’d heard those words all day, but none had stirred anything inside him, until now.

Balfour’s eyes softened as he looked at her, “Thanks. So, where’s my gift?”

Ivy’s eyes shot back to his, her brow furrowing in mild distress, “I just found out today, so I didn’t get you anything.”