Abyss.
The kind that tore down every wall I’d built and reminded me I belonged to someone.
We pulled apart, foreheads touching.
“By the way… who is Poison Ivy?” he asked.
I laughed and pulled up a picture on my phone.
“She’s a comic villain. A sexy, dangerous lady with red hair.”
He studied it, then me. “She’s got nothing on you. You’re sexier.”
“Yeah, right,” I said, laughing.
“Juan’s crazy, but the name fits.” He raised his brows. “Poison Ivy.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” I laughed in disbelief.