Page 9 of Resisting the Handsome Doctor
"Think about it. Your car's already here. We're already here. We're dressed—" I gesture at our jeans, "—comfortably. And honestly, after two drinks, I'm feeling brave enough to face Marcus Webb and whoever else is in there."
"Owen, I can't—"
"Why not?"
"Because I'm not—" She gestures helplessly at herself. "Look at me. Everyone else is dressed up and I'm in jeans and a cardigan with a coffee stain on the sleeve."
I look. Really look. At her soft cardigan and her simple jeans, at the way her ponytail's coming loose, at the nervous way she's biting her lip. "I am looking. And you look perfect."
"You're just saying that."
"I'm really not." I lean forward, holding her gaze. "Ivy, you could walk in there wearing a garbage bag and you'd still be the most beautiful person in the room. At least to me."
Her cheeks flush pink. "That's..."
"True." I finish for her. "Look, I get it if you don't want to go. But not because of what you're wearing or what anyone else thinks. If you don't want to go because reunions are terrible and people are the worst, that's completely valid. But if you're not going because you think you don't belong there, or because you think no one will remember you—" I pause. "I'll remember you. I'll be right there with you the whole time. We can make fun of Marcus's letterman jacket. We can judge the playlist. We can leave whenever you want."
She's quiet, turning her wine glass in slow circles. I can see her thinking, weighing options, talking to herself out of it.
"What would Levi say?" I ask.
That gets a small smile. "He'd tell me to stop hiding."
"He'd be right."
"He'd also say I should have more fun."
"Also right." I finish my whiskey and set the glass down. "So, let's go have fun. Let's walk in there together and show everyone that the quiet girl and the overachiever turned out just fine. Better than fine."
"I don't know how to have fun at these things."
"Neither do I. We'll figure it out together." I stand up and offer her my hand. Again. For the second time tonight. "Come on, Ivy Rose. Be brave with me."
Chapter 3 - Ivy
*Be brave with me.*
I stare at Owen's outstretched hand like it's a live grenade.
This is insane. He's insane. I'm insane for even considering this.
He's been back in town for a few hours, and he's already said more things that have turned my entire understanding of my life upside down than I've heard in fifteen years. He remembered our conversation on his back porch. He remembered what I drink. He kept my copy of Jane Eyre with my embarrassing margin notes and little hearts.
He looked for me when he came back to visit.
None of this makes sense. Owen Harper is a successful doctor with a life in the city, and I'm a small-town librarian who still lives in the same house I bought when I was twenty-five because change is terrifying. We're not... we don't...
Except he's standing here telling me I'm beautiful. Telling me I matter. Looking at me like I'm someone worth looking at.
Maybe I did hit my head when I jumped in the car earlier. Maybe I'm actually unconscious in the Honda right now and this is all some elaborate stress dream.
"Ivy?" Owen's voice is gentle. Patient. His hand is still extended, waiting. "You okay?"
"I'm trying to figure out if you're drunk," I blurt out.
He blinks. Then laughs, this surprised, genuine sound that catches me off guard. "I had one whiskey."
"You had it really fast."
