Chapter 29 - Ivy
IVY
I stare at my laptop screen, cursor blinking on a blank page like it’s mocking me.
Nothing comes.
No dialogue. No tension. No brooding, obsessive male lead inspired by my favorite emotionally unavailable neighbor with commitment issues and excellent bone structure.
On Saturday, the writing was easy. My fingers flew over the keyboard. The story poured out of me like a confession.
Today? Nothing.
I sigh and lean back in my chair, rolling my neck once.
Maybe it’s because it’s Monday and my creative reserves are asleep.
Or maybe I’m just lying to myself.
I blow out a breath, scowling out the window at the empty yard below. This is what happens when a man decides he wants space.
I rock back in my chair. Everything feels… off. Too quiet. Too still.
I glance at the clock. Sebastian is at work.
I know his schedule better than my own. Mondays he’s usually home by five. Tuesdays and Thursdays he’s gone until after seven. Wednesdays are lighter—shorter meetings, early exits, and he’s usually home by four. Fridays, he’s out of there by noon, unless an emergency arises.
The neighbor’s dog barks, startling me. I glance out the window, but don’t see anything. I file it as unimportant.
I drum my fingernails on the desk.
I just need proximity to Sebastian to fix what ails me.
That’ll ease my writer’s block.
I slip on my shoes and head down the street like I’m going for a perfectly normal walk that does not involve illegally entering my favorite emotionally constipated man’s house for emotional regulation purposes.
The deck feels familiar beneath my hands as I climb over the railing, muscle memory guiding me up and over like this is exactly where I belong.
I slip my shoes off, leaving them next to the door then ease the sliding door open. I immediately hear Drew’s strained voice.
“—No, Mom, that’s not what I said.”
I freeze, eyes and ears straining.
Drew has his phone pressed to his ear, his movements frenzied as he paces.
When his back is to me, I sneak inside, soundlessly closing the door. I watch as he runs a hand through his hair, then—
Oh no.
I dive behind the couch just as his footsteps approach the living room, flattening myself on the carpet like a raccoon caught mid-crime.
Drew paces past me, the phone pressed to his ear. “No, I’m not taking sides. I’m just saying Sebastian doesn’t need advice right now—”
He turns—and I hold my breath, praying he doesn’t see me.
“—Yes, I know he’s difficult. He’s always been difficult. That’s not new—”
His footsteps shift back toward the kitchen.
I exhale and wait three seconds before slowly peeking over the couch.
He’s gone.
I move.
Quiet. Controlled. Light on my feet.
I slip down the hallway, heart pounding—not from fear, but from anticipation.
Until his footsteps start again, heading in my direction.
I panic and dive into the bathroom.
I press myself against the door as Drew’s voice filters into my ears, the sound coming from the edge of the living room.
“No, Mom, I don’t think he’s dating her—”
A pause.
“No. I don’t think she’s a stalker.”
I grin.
Good boy.
The footsteps fade.
I exhale, then move again, sneaking up the stairs, quiet as a mouse. I make it down the hallway before I hear Drew’s voice.
I practically bolt into Sebastian’s room, closing the door behind me with a soft click.
The scent hits me immediately. Warm. Clean. Masculine.
My shoulders drop. Relief floods my system so fast it makes me dizzy.
“This,” I whisper, “is where I belong.”
I step farther inside, fingers brushing his comforter like I’m greeting an old friend. I smooth the fabric once. Twice.
Then I sit on the bed and look around his room.
His clothes are on the floor again.
Tsk. Tsk.
I nudge his discarded shirt with my foot, then stop myself.
No. He’ll notice if I fix it.
Instead, I turn the sleeve just slightly—so it lies flat instead of twisted. A correction that only someone who belongs here would make.
He won’t see it right away. But later, when he picks it up, he will.
I lie back and inhale deeply.
No wonder I’ve been off balance.
I roll, pressing my face into his pillow, breathing him in like oxygen.
My thoughts slow. My pulse steadies.
“This is home,” I murmur, softer this time.
I lift the comforter and slide beneath it, just like I used to do when I snuck inside his room and crawled into his bed.
I roll onto my side, then onto my back, then—because I’m nothing if not thorough—onto my stomach, hugging the pillow like it might run away if I let it.
“I miss you,” I whisper into the fabric. “You’re being very dramatic about this space thing.”
I roll again, tangling myself in his comforter, letting his scent sink into me until the tightness in my chest eases.
This is better. Much better.
My skin hums. Goosebumps cover my skin. My face grows hot lying here, in his bed once again. My panties are even damp.
Which is when the door opens.
“I—what the hell?”
I jolt upright.
Drew stands in the doorway, frozen mid-step, phone dangling uselessly at his side.
We stare at each other.
I’m sprawled across his brother’s bed, clutching a pillow. After rolling in his brother’s scent like a dog.
“Oh,” I say brightly. “Hi.”
He blinks.
Once.
Twice.
“You—” He stops, rubs his face, then looks back at me like he’s checking if he’s hallucinating. “How long have you been in here?”
I consider. “Emotionally? Or physically?”
He groans.
“I swear,” he mutters, dragging a hand down his face. “This is my punishment for getting divorced.”
I sit up fully, smoothing my hair. “You pace very loudly while on the phone. I had to employ evasive maneuvers.”
“You hid.”
“Yes.”
“In my brother’s house.”
“Yes.”
“Behind furniture.”
I nod. “And in the bathroom.”
Drew stares at the ceiling like he’s asking for strength.
“You realize,” he says slowly, “that most people would be alarmed by this.”
I tilt my head. “Most people don’t love Sebastian.”
That stops him.
He looks at me again—really looks. He doesn’t appear scared or angry. Just… tired. Curious. Resigned.
“You’re struggling,” he says quietly.
I nod. “Yes.”
“So is he.”
That lands.
I slide off the bed and stand, suddenly aware that I’ve crossed into something real.
“I didn’t mean to upset him,” I say softly. “I just… needed him to feel the quiet.”
Drew exhales. “Mission accomplished.”
I smile faintly. “Good.”
I step toward the door, then pause. “You won’t tell him I was here?”
Drew hesitates. Then shakes his head. “No.”
I brighten. “Thank you.”
As I slip past him, he adds, “But for the record?”
I glance back.
“If you climb the deck again while I’m home, I’m charging you rent.”
I grin. “Fair.”
The smile dies on my face. “And if Sebastian finds out?”
He pauses. “That’s not a conversation I want to have.”
The sound of a car door slams outside.
My eyes lock with Drew’s, my heart stuttering.
It’s him!
I move without thinking—down the hallway and stairs, through the living room, and out the patio door. I jump over the railing like I’m a hurdler, dropping into the grass. I crouch behind the hedge, holding my breath, watching as Sebastian’s silhouette passes by the patio door.
I exhale, breath panicky and accelerated.
As much as I’d love to see him, I can’t.
Not today.
But soon.
And then I’m gone, sneaking away from the one place I really want to stay.
Once on the path, I turn and take one last look at his house.
For one reckless second, I almost go back.
But I don’t.
His scent still lingers on my clothes as I disappear into the woods.
This will have to be enough.
For now.