Page 52 of In League with Ivy

Her head jerked back. “No.”

I shrugged. “We’re not Hollywood stereotypes.”

“So are you telling me if a girl came up to you with big boobs and removed her clothes, you wouldn’t be aroused?”

I shrugged. “Depends. I mean, if I hadn’t been with a girl for a while, then maybe. But I like your tits. More than a mouthful’s a waste.”

“You’re an enigma,” she said.

“Why, because I don’t like big tits? Especially fake ones?”

“Mm…” She leaned toward the mirror, applying lipstick.

I stood behind her and rubbed her ass. “I love your body, Ivy. You’re perfect. And I like this”—I touched her lips—“and this”—I tapped her head.

“Thanks.” She tilted her head. “For liking me for my body.”

“I like you for more than your body.” I smiled. “I can’t get a hard-on around brainless girls, no matter how pretty they are.”

“Really?” Her eyebrows gathered. “Intelligence is more likely to give you an erection than a sexy body?”

I shrugged. “I need both. Together. However, Jane Austen would probably rock my boat.”

Ivy chuckled. “She’s dead.”

“I know that.” I rolled my eyes. “But Elizabeth Bennet was pretty sexy, I thought.”

“You’ve read Pride and Prejudice?” Ivy looked like I’d just admitted to kissing a corpse.

“Well…” I smirked. “I saw the movie.”

She tilted her head. “Which version?”

“The classic version, of course. With Laurence Olivier.”

She looked impressed. “Really? I haven’t seen that version.”

“I’m a TCM fan. Love black-and-white movies.”

“I know. Especially war movies.” She faked a yawn. “Boring.”

“No, they’re not. We need to be reminded just what our great- grandfathers fought for. We’ve never had it so good.”

She nodded slowly. “You’re right. Thanks for saying that.”

I fluttered my hand like Errol Flynn in Robin Hood. “Why, thank you.”

Ivy giggled.

“Let’s go and get something to eat, and then I can introduce you to my parents.”

“Will I be introduced as a friend or as a girlfriend?” She cocked her pretty head to study me.

“Both. I want us to be exclusive.”

Her startled expression would have been my response once. But with Ivy, going exclusive felt as natural as enjoying a sunset.

“What?” I asked.

“We hardly know each other.”

“I know more about you than any other girl I’ve ever met.”

She remained wide-eyed.

“You’re not interested in taking this further?” I asked.

Shaking and nodding her head at the same time, Ivy continued to appear perplexed. “Okay. Girlfriend it is, then,” she said with a faint smile.