I nod slowly. “It just feels…extreme.”
“Gray, so is temptation.”
He’s right, and I hate that he’s right.
But maybe I needed to hear it.
I let out a breath, quieter this time. “I’ll pray about it.”
Jack gives me a small nod. “Good. And in the meantime, remember this—any relationship built on honoring God doesn’t lose momentum when you slow the physical down. It gains depth.”
That sticks with me.
And as I leave the coffee shop, I realize I’ve been thinking about how not to lose Ivy…but maybe it’s time to think about how to protect what we’re building—even if that means saying no before things ever get too far again.
Chapter 26
Ivy
The hallway hums with energy—volunteers bustling back and forth, parents ushering children to classrooms, and the soft strum of a guitar drifting from the sanctuary. I lean against the welcome desk, a cup of warm coffee in my hand, my eyes flicking to the front doors every few seconds.
Harper spots me from across the hallway, clipboard tucked under her arm as she weaves her way through the crowd. Her ponytail bounces with every step, her expression curious. “Is she not here yet?”
I shake my head, glancing at the clock on the wall. Two minutes until service starts.
Harper rolls her eyes. “You know she’s gonna slide in at the very last second. Probably with that ridiculous oversized purse and a latte that’s more sugar than coffee.”
I laugh, despite the knot of worry tightening in my stomach. “I know. But still...”
Harper nudges me with her shoulder. “She’ll be here.” Her voice is confident, almost dismissive, like it’s obvious. Like there’s no other option. “You need me to stick around?”
I shake my head. “You’ve got kids’ ministry today, right?”
She raises the clipboard like it’s a trophy. “You bet. Got my clipboard. Got my schedule. Got a plan for world domination via craft time.”
I snort. “You’re ridiculous.”
“And you love me,” she sings, throwing a wave over her shoulder as she heads toward the children’s wing.
I turn back toward the door, chewing on the inside of my cheek. People shuffle in, brushing past me with nods and murmured greetings. I watch each face, searching for Olivia’s sharp eyes and skeptical smile.
One minute to go.
I swallow hard, the knot in my stomach growing tighter. Maybe it was too much to ask. Maybe last week at worship night was a fluke, and she…
The door swings open, and there she is.
Olivia steps through the threshold, cheeks flushed from the brisk morning air, hair a bit tousled like she hurried to get here. She spots me instantly, her eyes narrowing in playful accusation. “Are you waiting on me?”
I grin, holding out her coffee. “You’re late.”
She shrugs, snatching the cup from my hand. “I’m here, aren’t I?”
“Barely.” I laugh, relief flooding my chest. “Ready to head in?”
She hesitates, glancing over my shoulder toward the sanctuary doors. “Do we have to sit near the front?”
I shake my head. “Not if you don’t want to.”
