18. JJ Woodford
JJ WOODFORD
I ’m home alone because Finn has work and I don’t feel like going out today.
Callan and Joel said they’re hitting the beach, but I’m enjoying my own company right now. As much as I like Finn’s friends, I like having alone time too.
So settling for a new Viking series and the sofa is music to my ears right now.
A small thump against the door has me snapping my attention away from the TV. At first, I think it must have been a gust of wind because it wasn’t heavy enough to be a knock.
I frown when I hear the noise again, as if someone’s trying to pick the lock and break in.
I jump up from the sofa and inch closer. Then I hear keys drop altogether. My fingers press to the door handle, and I swing it open to find Ivy bent down, her fingers lingering over her keys as they rest on the floor.
“Ivy?”
A sound falls from her lips, somewhere between a sob and a shuddering breath.
I bend down to the floor instantly, but I can’t see her face, it’s clouded by her blonde hair. “Ivy,” I lean over to grab her hand that is now touching her keys.
She’s trembling like a leaf.
“What’s happened?” I demand carefully.
I give her a once-over as best as I can in her crouching position, but I can’t see any signs of injury. Her breathing becomes harsh, and I grab her keys with my empty hand and pull her up onto her feet and into the house.
Her legs barely work as she stumbles inside, flashing me her face for the first time. Tears are streaming down her cheeks endlessly and she sucks in a big breath, her chest going crazy as I shut the door behind her.
“Take a big breath,” I say gently, gripping her shoulder. Ivy’s eyes shut, and she chokes out a cry, then fails to take a breath, resulting in hyperventilation. “A big breath, in then out.”
She’s not listening. She’s full-on sobbing.
My heart wrenches in my chest. What the fuck happened since this morning?
“Princess,” I whisper, and clutch her cheek. “Listen to me.”
But Ivy shakes her head, hands still vibrating. I tell myself to keep calm, to not let this situation escalate by panicking.
“Listen to my voice.”
She raises those terrified, glossy eyes up to mine, full of tears and pain. My lips part at the strain on her face; whatever happened, she’s losing control. She pants quickly, breathing still erratic and uneven.
“Ivy, please,” I tilt her chin to force those green eyes to mine. “Focus on my breathing, copy what I’m doing.”
Ivy’s lips begin to tremble, and I inhale deeply through my nose for four counts, then I exhale through my mouth for four. Her eyes sweep over my face as I drop my hand from her cheek and grip her cold fingers instead.
“Copy me,” I tell her again and focus on my breathing, keeping my gaze on hers.
She attempts at first, and I squeeze her fingers in encouragement. Tears continue to leak from her eyes, and seeing her this distressed makes me feel like a shattered man.
“That’s it,” I say supportively. “Now breathe out for a bit longer, until there is no air left in your lungs.”
I watch as she swallows at my words. She attempts a nod, but she stops. Her eyes fixate on mine, and then my nose and my lips, trying to keep in control. I can still hear her quiet sobs, but her breathing is much calmer.
After a moment, she tugs her hand away from mine and shakes out her fingers, turning away from me slightly with that tortured expression again. I reach out for her, but I don’t touch her, not when I don’t know where her head is at.
She raises a hand to wipe her cheek and across her lips. “No one’s ever going to let me forget.” Her voice cracks as she continues to cry quietly.
My brows push together at her words. “Forget what?”
“I’m—” her chest rises quickly again, and I fear she’ll bring herself back into a panic. “I’m always going to be reminded. People are always going to remind me.”
I step closer and watch her with concern. “Of what, Ivy?”
At this point, I’m desperate. I’m desperate for her to open up to me and tell me everything that is on her mind, everything that has her up at night. Because I want to know.
Ivy turns and then turns again, eyes tired and body limp. She shakes her head, lowering it to the ground. “I can’t do this. I thought I could, but I can’t. I can’t.”
“Ivy—”
Her sobs become louder. They cut through my heart like a shard of glass.
A sound I never want to hear again in my life.
She steps towards me, collapsing into my chest completely. I wrap my arms around her in an instant, her cheek pressed against the centre of my sternum. My hand clasps the back of her head gently, cradling it like a baby.
Her fingers latch onto the back of my T-shirt, gripping on for dear life.
The sound that rips from her chest vibrates through my entire body, and I close my eyes to shut it out, but I can’t.
Instead, I focus on the feel of her body, swaying us ever so gently as I lower my forehead to touch the crown of her own.
“It’s okay,” I whisper. “I’ve got you.”
Ivy’s cries begin to quieten after a few moments, keeping her as close as I can. I feel her fingers begin to ease their tightness on the back of my top, but she doesn’t move away; she presses her head further into my chest instead.
I press a kiss to her hair again and listen as she exhales a little sigh, one of exhaustion.
The pain that she’s been through, it’s something I’ve never seen before.
And knowing something happened to her… something happened to her, and she’s not the same person anymore. They’ve taken it from her, ripped it from her, and left her with nothing but a shell of a body, and I can’t stand the thought.
I slide my hand from the back of her head and pull her back slowly. “Ivy,” I say as I catch a glimpse of her face. Swollen eyes and red-stained cheeks.
She glances away, using her hair to hide her face. “I’m sorry.”
“You have nothing to be sorry for.”
Her eyes stay focused on the floor and I take her hand again, running my thumb across her knuckles soothingly. Slowly, she glances up at me, still shuddering through a breath. The tears have stopped, but I know she’s still hurting.
“Come sit with me for a minute.” I gesture my head towards the sofa.
Ivy’s eyes glimmer for a second. “I don’t want to disrupt your alone time.”
I frown at her. “You’re not interrupting anything,” I assure her. “Please? I want you to sit with me.”
She nods once, and I tug her hand gently to the sofa where the episode of my medieval program is still playing. I feel her perch beside me, but not close enough to touch.
“Have you seen this before?” I ask.
Ivy shakes her head. “It’s not my kind of thing.”
“We can change it,” I say, reaching for the remote.
“No,” she calls out. “It’s fine. I don’t mind.”
I pause for a moment before leaning back, leaving the remote on the coffee table. “Don’t ask me to explain what’s going on because I have no idea myself.”
Ivy laughs a little at this, and I celebrate the small success. “I think they make these series complicated on purpose.”
“Agreed. I always wonder if it was actually like this, you know?”
“No way. This is completely glamorised,” she says. “And they’re always such horny people, yet I doubt they’ve washed out their mouths or bathed for weeks.”
I cringe internally at the thought. “You’re so right.”
“To think they never had to use dating apps because there is always someone lined up for them,” Ivy says with a subtle smile. “Like I’m sure most single people in the twenty-first century have used dating apps.”
My shoulders raise once. “I’ve never used them.”
Ivy’s mouth falls open as she turns to me in shock. “You’ve never had to use them? Like… ever?”
The corner of my lip quirks. “Never needed to.”
Ivy’s eyes narrow in my direction again, but there is a ghost of a smile on her mouth. “So damn cocky,” she comments, but her words are gentle.
“I think the key word here is confident.”
“Yeah… trust me, I’ve seen the confidence.”
I smirk at her. “And you liked it.”
Ivy’s cheeks turn beetroot red. This is the only time I’ve managed to bring up our night together without her running away or shoving me back into my place. “I must have had concussion or something.”
“Yeah, right.” I laugh. “If that’s what you want to call it.”
She rolls her eyes and hides her face.
We watch the rest of the episode in comfortable silence.
“Thanks for earlier,” she says when the credits start to roll. “I was a total mess.”
“No, Ivy, you’re human.”
She presses her lips into a thin line. “I needed to hear that.”
“If you want someone to talk to, I am here. Just putting the offer out there.”
Ivy’s chest quivers. “Thanks.”
For a few moments we just stare at each other, and regardless of the fact she was crying her eyes out thirty minutes ago, she still looks so fucking beautiful it hurts.
Then she sucks in a breath and turns her attention back to the TV, moving away from me this time. “What’s going on then? I’m secretly invested now.”
I reach for the remote with a grin. “I’ll start it from the beginning.”