13. Ivy Thompson
IVY THOMPSON
T he next morning, I wake up to texts from Erin asking how being at home is. I smile at her caring nature and quickly give her the low down that JJ is staying with us for the summer.
A flood of texts comes in straight after, and I groan into my pillow.
Ivy:
I promise to call you later, okay? I’ll explain everything then
Erin:
You better. I want to hear EVERYTHING.
My lips continue to curl at her message, despite the fact my stomach churns at the thought of addressing it again.
As I glance around my childhood bedroom, a wave of nostalgia hits me in the chest. Even though I’ve changed it a thousand times over, I still remember the pink painted walls when I was seven, and the boy band posters when I was thirteen.
I definitely have a box of school memorabilia somewhere.
School wasn’t necessarily the best time of my life, but there were moments that made me happy. I mostly kept my head down and did my work with no questions asked. I wasn’t necessarily popular, but because Daisy was my best friend, that meant I was invited to parties with her.
After peeling myself from my bed, I rummage in my old cupboard to find it used as storage for my father’s pickleball hobby. I’m not surprised to see that he swapped out my stuff into the loft to make his stuff more accessible.
I step into the hall and stare up at the rectangular outline on the ceiling. I gently pull down the string and let the ladder fall into place beside me. My fingers latch onto the metal and give it a good shake—I’ve never trusted ladders.
My foot slides onto the metal ledge, and I move one step at a time. I peek my head into the loft, but everything is pitch black. I grip onto the ladder and press my hand to the landing to push myself up so I can stand.
But as I reach forward to grab the handle inside, my sock slips, and suddenly I’m falling. A scream echoes from my lips at how fast everything happens. My life literally flashes before my eyes.
My heart pounds inside my chest as I fly through the air, trying my hardest to grab onto something or tangle my legs onto the ladder. But it’s too late.
Seconds before I hit the ground, my arm scrapes down the jagged side of the ladder, piercing my skin. My back cracks beneath me, causing the floorboards to creak.
I groan and close my eyes at the influx of pain. My spine feels like it’s been snapped in two, as for my arm, I take a quick glance at it and study the crimson droplets falling towards my elbow.
My stomach literally flips. No. No. No. No.
The door down the hall bursts open, and I hear footsteps darting towards me. “Oh shit,” JJ curses as I tremble. “Ivy.”
He drops to his knees beside me, and I make the mistake of turning to look at him because, for whatever reason, he’s shirtless. I squeeze my eyes shut and take in a large gulp of air, giving myself a second to recover.
“Are you okay?”
“No,” I murmur.
I might as well have fallen fifty feet from the roof; this feels no different.
JJ places a hand on my shoulder. “Here. Sit up.”
I attempt to nod as he slides his hand under my back and pushes me into a sitting position. My head spins aggressively, and a wave of nausea hits me. He positions his knee behind me so I can rest my shattered back against it. His other hand is now gently rubbing my shoulders.
Am I dreaming? This must be a dream of torment.
“What were you doing?”
I huff out a breath. “I have a memory box somewhere,” I grunt. “I think my dad put it in the loft. I underestimated the reach for the light switch. Socks were a stupid idea.”
JJ sighs harshly. “Maybe write a note to yourself that you shouldn’t go up there alone. Someone is meant to hold the ladder.”
My eyes snap open to meet his dark blues. “Right,” I croak.
He drops his gaze and looks down at my bloody arm, and when he winces at the sight, I know it isn’t good. “We need to clean this up,” he says, inspecting the wound. “You’ve cut yourself open, Ivy.”
“I don’t know if I can stand,” I admit. “Not right now.”
“It’s okay.” JJ shuffles impossibly closer to me. This time, I rest all of my weight on his knee. “Give yourself a minute.”
I inhale deeply and close my eyes, trying my hardest not to throw up everywhere. Holy hell, I am so stupid. Why did I think I could do it by myself?
A few minutes tick by, enough to get my thoughts in gear and to stabilise my mind. “Okay. I’m ready.”
“Alright,” he says and helps me up off the floor. I stumble into the side of his body, my head hitting his hard shoulder. “Don’t fall on me again, otherwise you’re really making a habit of it.”
I whimper at his words. “Please, no jokes. It’s the last thing I need.”
JJ stifles a soft laugh. “Sorry. Just trying to lighten the mood.”
“We have a first aid kit downstairs,” I say as he wraps an arm around my lower waist.
He practically carries me downstairs with one arm as I almost fall limp in his grip.
When we make it to the kitchen, JJ takes my waist in his hands and hoists me up onto the counter with ease. Far too much ease. I don’t miss the way his fingers linger for a few more seconds than necessary. But his warmth gives me an unexpected comfort.
“Where is it?”
“Cupboard.” I attempt to point with my good arm.
He’s gone in a flash and comes back with the kit. I look down for a brief second and study the dried blood that has clung to my thigh and the droplets that rest on the white counter. I suck in a breath and squeeze my eyes shut.
“JJ—” I moan as he rummages through the kit.
My stomach acid crashes into my sternum, making the nausea rise in my throat.
Oh god. Blood. Blood. Even more blood. The coppery smell. It’s invading my nose.
“JJ,” I whimper again.
I’m moments away from falling off this counter with my spinning head.
“Give me a second, princess. I’m right here.”
I grip onto the counter, but right now I don’t have a second because I find my mind growing darker and darker, my vision almost fading into nothing. A presence approaches me, a large hand at the back of my neck, delicate fingers brushing my skin.
“Ivy,” JJ says as he places something cold against my lips. “Take a sip of this. It’ll help with your sugar levels. Don’t faint on me.”
I lean forward a fraction and allow him to pour the liquid into my mouth. Coke. I slurp it down, enjoying the sensation of the fizzy sugar.
“That’s it.” His fingers continue to caress my neck. “Good girl.”
He pulls back the can slowly, and I open my eyes.
“Okay.” He takes my arm again, and I resist the urge to look down at his rippling, tattooed biceps. He hasn’t put a shirt on, and now that might be the reason why I faint. “Let me clean this up, then I can bandage it.”
“Does it need stitches?” I ask as my stomach rolls.
“I don’t think so,” he says.
I lick my lips and press my head back into the cupboard door. “You know first aid?”
He glances up at me with a cheeky grin, blue eyes gleaming. “Sure do.” He takes a damp washcloth and removes the blood from my open wound. I look away and grip his arm with my fingers.
“How?” I ask desperately. “Talk to me, please, because I need a distraction.”
“Okay, but you can’t laugh.”
His fingers gently stroke my arm in soothing motions. I don’t dare look back at the damage. “I won’t.”
“My mum used to take me ice skating when I was younger,” he starts, and I focus on his soft hands as he takes his time.
He definitely knows what he’s doing. “And for ages, she wanted me to be a professional skater, but I was too much of a liability. I was like a kid on crack, the coaches didn’t know what to do with me. ”
I bite down on my lip as he begins to put something on my arm, drying the skin. “I would fall over all the time because I just wanted to mess around. My mum made sure I knew basic first aid in case I hurt myself or anyone else. Especially with those blades, they can do some real damage.”
My mouth twitches into a frown. “Why would I laugh at that?”
“I guess no one really knows I ever did it, or suspects as much.”
“Were you good?”
“No.” JJ laughs gently, and it makes me smile, warmth and calmness washing over me. “Not at all. I felt bad because my mum really wanted me to try it, but it just wasn’t for me. I got into other things as I got older and into other sports, but video production has always been my passion.”
I finally pluck up the courage to look at my arm, a bandage now in place and not a drop of blood in sight. My lungs constrict, and I watch his gaze as he inspects his handiwork.
“I remember you telling me about it,” I whisper.
JJ glances up, and it makes me realise just how close we are to each other. Practically sharing the same breath.
“What do you make your videos on?”
“Anything that inspires me, really.” He shrugs. “Nature. People. Kind of like realism, I guess.”
“That’s cool.”
“There,” he says before placing my arm back into my lap. “Leave the bandage on for a few days, and then take it off to see how it’s healing. Might need to replace the gauze if it’s still a little gooey.”
I nod once, heat rippling down my spine. “Thank you.”
When JJ doesn’t move away instantly, I look down at his nose ring and my heart thumps. Why are nose rings stupidly attractive on the right man?
“I didn’t realise you were squeamish around blood.”
My throat goes dry at his words. “I never used to be, but sometimes the smell and the thought set me off.”
“Did something happen?”
I run my tongue over my bottom lip and dart my gaze to the window. “A while ago, yeah.”
JJ shifts from one foot to the other. “Has this got something to do with the scar on your chest?”
His eyes meet mine, and for a few moments, I say nothing.
“Yeah,” I say eventually.
When his expression warps into something I can’t read, I resist the urge to run. He presses a hand to the counter beside my leg and studies me carefully. “What happened?”
“It’s from an accident a few years ago. Don’t worry, I didn’t have open heart surgery or anything.”
I try to keep my tone as neutral as possible, but there is a slight tremor to my voice. It’s been a while since I’ve spoken about it to someone new, not in the last few years anyway.
“Accident?” he repeats as his brows crease. “What kind of accident?”
The air inside my lungs becomes non-existent, and the look in his eye has suddenly turned intense. A demand to know, and it makes butterflies of dread erupt inside my stomach.
“It doesn’t matter, JJ.” I brush it off.
“Does being squeamish affect your studies?” he asks after a few moments.
“What?”
“You said you study biomedical science. That’s like medicine and doctor stuff, right?”
My mouth parts at the fact he remembers. “Oh.” I blink. “Yeah. I’m not really squeamish when it comes to other people. It’s weird, some kind of mental block I have when it comes to myself.”
“Because of the accident?”
“Yeah.”
The kitchen turns silent, and I wish he had never brought it up in the first place because it makes me feel seen, and I’m used to hiding in the shadows.
It’s the reason why I hate him staring at me so much, because I fear he’ll be able to draw all my insecurities to the surface and analyse every inch of me.
It wouldn’t be hard, I doubt I’m very subtle.
I wish I was more like Daisy. I wish I was more like anyone… but me.
JJ’s mouth opens, but I get there first. “So, you and Daisy, huh?”
I scold myself for blurting the first thing I could think of when it’s the last thing I want to talk about with him. He blinks at my direct question and clears his throat, pushing himself up from the counter, putting distance between us.
“Uh.” He folds his arms over his bare chest, and I use every bit of strength inside me not to look. “Yeah… she’s a nice girl.”
My mouth stretches into a forced smile.
“Yeah, she is.”
“So, the loft.” JJ brushes his hand over his buzzed hair. “You want me to grab whatever you need?”
“Yes,” I exhale quickly. “Please. It’s in a green box with gold lining. It looks like a Christmas box, but it’s not.”
He hikes his thumb over his shoulder. “I’ll go grab it.”
“Thank you,” I say as he walks away.
The front door opens moments later, and I turn to find my brother strolling into the house. I frown at his presence because it’s early in the morning.
“Where have you been?” I raise a questioning brow.
“Nowhere.”
I narrow my eyes at him and his scruffy attire.
“Suspicious.”
Finn walks towards me, and he’s immediately drawn to my arm. “What happened?”
“I fell from the loft. But I’m okay. Luckily, JJ was here.”
He tuts. “Be careful, man. Dad always told us how slippy the ladder is.”
“I know, I know,” I mutter under my breath.
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m okay.”
JJ emerges from the stairs a few moments later, now in a black T-shirt. “It’s on your bed, Ivy.”
I press my lips into a thin line. “Thanks.”
“Hey.” Finn swats JJ’s chest. “Joel and Cal are heading out across town, there is this new park they’ve just built. We’re gonna chill and play football. You down?”
“I’m there.”
Finn makes his way upstairs, and JJ loiters for a second or two. He catches my gaze and flashes a soft smile that does something to my soul.
“You good?” he asks.
I press my lips together and breathe out through my nose. “Good as new. Thanks.”
When he leaves, I slump against the counter and press a hand to my face.
Yeah, this is going to be harder than I thought.