Chapter 25 Ivy
IVY
OH. MY. GOD.
I kissed Theodore Bancroft Seaborn IV—my patient, my teen crush, the man who says my name like it has a deeper meaning.
My heart is pounding hard enough to stamp today’s date on my chest.
Breathe, Ivy. In for five. Hold for five. Out for five. Repeat.
He said “kiss me, Ivy,” and my body said “copy that” while my brain filed an ethics complaint.
The touch of his perfect lips against mine was so worth it.
I want to do it again against every carefully built wall and professional line I’ve drawn.
I’m ready to let a few of them down for him. Because he’s worth at least trying for.
But first things first: starting the paperwork to leave his care team. Then I’ll hurl myself down a vertical ice track at forty miles an hour like that’s the safer choice today.
Oh my god. I kissed him. Truly kissed him. And now I’m grinning like a menace in a hallway full of cameras.
Ivy, get it together.
…Or don’t.