Alexander's POV
The memory rushes in too fast—her lips soft but demanding, her tongue dancing with mine, the heat of her body pressed against me, her little gasp when I shoved her to the wall like she wanted to be manhandled.
She kissed me like she meant it.
Like she owned me.
And God help me, maybe she does.
“Get your s**t together,” I mutter, scrubbing my hand over my face again.
But the scent of her is still there—taunting. Teasing. I dare you to forget me.
Yeah, like that’s even f*****g possible.
A bitter laugh slips from my mouth, humorless and dry. Ivy doesn’t play fair. She never has. She’s a wildfire in heels and lip gloss, and I walked straight into the flames like a dumbass with a death wish.
I should’ve stopped her the second she started talking back. The second she st
