Chapter 36 Ivy
IVY
Waking up with Teddy’s arm draped over my waist, I feel protected.
His warmth seeps into me, and I close my eyes again.
Not because I’m tired, but because I want to hold on to the moment a little longer.
For a second, I pretend the morning light won’t slip into the afternoon and steal this feeling of contentment away.
My body hums with a delicious ache, every muscle carrying the memory of him and our time together.
We found each other again and again throughout the night—in the shower, pressed to the kitchen counter, tangled in his bed.
Every time we came together was different, sometimes fierce and hungry, sometimes slow enough to feel like worship.
None of it was just about release. It was about leaving imprints on each other, memorizing touch and taste so they couldn’t be forgotten.
Instead of making leaving unbearable, last night gave me more hope for our shared future. It’s something I can carry with me, no matter how many cities or races stand between us. Lying in his arms now, I know this isn’t the end, only the beginning.
Teddy stirs next to me, his voice rough with sleep. “You’re still here.”
“There’s no other place I'd rather be.” I whisper, shifting in his arms until I can face him.
He hums in response and presses a soft kiss to my forehead. “Are you sore?”
“A little,” I confess, a smile forming as I catch myself playing with my lip ring. “But I wouldn’t mind one more round.”
“You’re trying to kill me, aren’t you?” he mutters, though the way his hand digs in my hip says he’s already lost the fight.
His mouth brushes mine, featherlight at first. The kiss deepens until I’m gasping into him. His hand slides to my backside, pulling me even closer, and I feel him thick and heavy with want between us.
“Theodore,” I breathe out, my hands fisting his hair.
He rolls me beneath him in one smooth motion, his body caging mine.
His mouth trails down my throat, leaving a blazing path of kisses.
I arch under him, desperate for more. Teddy reaches into the nightstand, coating his fingers with lube before sliding them inside me.
The slick glide makes my body arch into his touch as his strokes intensify until I’m writhing beneath him.
By the time he pulls his hand away, I’m aching to feel more of him.
He lines himself up, every second stretching out like forever.
With a growl against my skin, he pushes inside me in one deep, claiming thrust. The brush of his piercing combined with the stretch makes my whole body jolt, sharp pleasure sparking so intense it borders on overwhelming.
I wrap my legs around his waist, pulling him deeper.
Each stroke drags the metal against that sweet spot inside me, the sensation so shamelessly intoxicating I can’t stop the broken sounds spilling from my throat.
“Ivy, fuck—” His words splinter as I tighten around him. “I can’t have enough of you.”
He slams his hips harder, each thrust rougher than the last until I’m crying out with every stroke. The pace is relentless, his piercing dragging inside me again and again, winding the coil impossibly tight. I claw at his shoulders until the fire consumes me whole.
Coming undone beneath him, my climax rips through me so hard I scream his name in ecstasy.
He doesn’t last long after that. With a strangled groan, he spills inside me, nothing between us.
His weight collapses against me, and I hold him there, both of us shaking with the aftermath of our lovemaking.
We stay like that, tangled and breathless, too content to move. I realize I could stay here forever—wrapped in his warmth, feeling safe in the quiet.
“You’re everything,” I whisper, touching his cheek lovingly.
His lashes flutter shut, and he turns into my palm, pressing the lightest kiss there. “And you are more.”
Three hours later, reality presses in as we walk through the front doors of Harborview Recovery Center inpatient rehab. Each step we take echoes like a countdown to the moment I don’t want to face.
The staff member who greets us is friendly and professional, but I barely register what’s said.
When we reach Teddy’s private room on the fourth floor, I force myself to take in the details for his sake.
The place is spacious enough to move without bumping into things.
A queen bed in the corner looks softer than the one in the hospital.
There’s a window overlooking the harbor like the center’s name suggests.
I tuck the observations away, promising myself I’ll describe them later, if he asks.
Hating the silence between us, I blurt out the first thing that comes to mind. “I mean, the mattress looks like it might actually have springs instead of rocks.”
“Maybe I’ll get lucky and the cafeteria food won’t taste like cardboard either. You think they serve actual eggs here or that powdered crap?” he asks, a small grin forming on his face.
I snort, even though the sound is brittle. “Please, you’re talking to a hospital nurse. If it’s vaguely yellow, we call it eggs.”
“Hey, as long as it doesn’t kill me,” he shoots back. “Imagine that. I survived a brain injury, but then the suspicious eggs got me.”
Our laughter is real for a second, but it doesn’t last. The sound thins out quickly, leaving silence in its wake. We both know these half-assed jokes about beds and cafeteria food aren’t about comfort. They’re about buying time, stretching out the scraps of conversation.
Teddy’s hand rakes through his hair, jaw clenched tight. “I fucking hate this.”
The words crack something in me. My eyes burn, and before I can stop it, I’m sniffling. “Me too,” I whisper, my voice breaking. “Last night was so amazing and I—”
His fingers find mine, squeezing like he’s begging me not to fall apart. “Fuck, Ivy. Hearing you cry is the one thing I’ll never get used to. Don’t cry because of me.”
The way he says it only makes my chest ache harder. No one outside my family and friends has ever cared about my tears before, not really. I’m used to being the strong one, the one who swallows the ache and soldiers on. But with him, I can’t seem to hide my emotions…and I don’t want to.
I don’t know who moves first. One moment we’re talking, the next we’re kissing, pulled together like magnets refusing to part.
It’s deliberate and drawn out, a kiss meant to brand the moment into our marrow.
My lips tremble against his, tears falling freely.
His arms come around me, strong and steady, holding me through them.
I clutch him tighter, nails digging into his sweatshirt, terrified of letting go.
“I know this isn’t the end,” I choke out, “but it sure feels like it right now.”
He doesn’t argue, kissing my forehead before pressing his lips to mine, both of us breathing the same ragged air. The truth hangs between us: I have to leave for the Ice Cross World Circuit tonight and he can’t come with me. We don’t get to choose this time.
Teddy swallows thickly, and when he speaks again, his voice cracks. “Promise me one thing.”
“What?” I ask, blinking back tears.
“Promise me this distance won’t be forever. You’ll come back to me and I’ll be here waiting for the day I get to hold you again.”
The heartfelt words hit me like a blow and a balm all at once.
I’ve heard sweet nothings from men who said all the right things but never meant any of them.
With Teddy, it doesn’t sound like a line, more like a vow.
A steady promise from a man who’s lost almost everything and chooses us as his new future.
I brush at my tears with trembling hands. “The moment I’m done, I’ll find you.” The words shake, but they’re the most certain thing I’ve ever said. “I promise.”
The world outside his room feels too big and cold, but our connection right here feels like a home I didn’t know I’d been searching for. I press our joined hands to my chest, right over the frantic beat of my heart, silently swearing that no amount of distance will break this.
“Stay safe, Ivy, my light,” he chokes out, heartbreak etched in the wet tracks on his cheeks.
Pressing one last kiss to his lips, slow and lingering, I memorize the taste of him.
Salt and warmth, a mix of tears and something uniquely Teddy I know I’ll crave the moment it’s gone.
I force myself to pull away, step by step, until I’m out the door.
Walking out of his room feels like leaving half of my heart behind with him.
Every instinct screams to crawl back into his arms and stay there forever.
The January air is cold enough to sting. The tears start to freeze on my cheeks, but I keep walking. If I turn back even once, I won’t survive leaving him again. Each step feels wrong, like I’m ripping something vital out of myself, but forward is the only direction I have.
I’m chasing the purpose I found in the sport I love, the one that has demanded sweat, blood, and endless hours of discipline.
It’s tested and broken me, and built me back stronger every time.
Ice is in my veins, and racing is in my bones.
Nothing can stop me now. Not even the man who managed to change my life in a single month.
Even if what’s left of my heart still calls his name.