I tighten my arms around her, holding her close, and for the first time in a long time, everything feels exactly as it should.
I wake to warmth. Solid, steady warmth pressed against my chest, my arm draped over her waist, fingers lazily tracing soft circles against her skin.
I blink sleepily, stretching just a little, and the movement makes Ivy shift against me. Instinctively, I tighten my hold, pulling her closer, burying my face in the crook of her neck so I can breathe her in.
"Good morning,” she mumbles, voice thick with sleep.
I hum against her skin. “Hmm. Good morning.”
Her voice does something to me. That soft, sleepy rasp pulls at something deep inside me, making me want to stay here forever.
She shifts in my arms, turning to face me, and when I open my eyes, she’s already watching me. Her hair is wild, curling in every direction, and her eyes are still heavy with sleep. She’s never looked more beautiful.
She reaches up, running her fingers through my hair, trying to smooth it down.
I smirk. “Am I a mess?”
“The messiest,” she says with a grin, tugging lightly at a strand.
I shift, leaning over her with a slow, satisfied smile. “Well, whose fault is that?”
She giggles, and I catch that little flicker in her eyes—the one that makes my stomach flip.
“Oh, I don’t know…” she says, voice playful. “I seem to recallyoubeing very determined last night.”
I lower my head until my lips just barely brush against hers. “Determined, huh?”
“Mmhmm.”
I kiss her deeper, slow and unhurried, like we’ve got all the time in the world. And maybe we do.
She sighs into my mouth, her fingers sliding down my back, leaving goosebumps in their wake. The feel of her beneath me—soft, warm,home—makes me want to hold on tighter.
Suddenly, she pulls back, grinning like she’s up to something.
I blink, slightly dazed. “What?”
She presses a quick, teasing kiss to my lips before wriggling out from under me and sprinting out of the bedroom.
“What the—? Ivy!”
I groan and fall back onto the pillows, listening to her laughter echo down the hall.
A minute later, she comes back clutching something, her grin wide with triumph.
I sit up, raising a brow as my eyes drop to the tub in her hands. And then I see it. Ice cream. A flash of pure delight sparks in my chest.
“Ice cream?” I ask, smirking.
She plops down beside me on the bed, holding up a single spoon. “For breakfast.”
I let out a low chuckle, shaking my head. “You are chaos.”
“I am,” she agrees proudly, popping off the lid and scooping out a generous bite of salted caramel. She holds the spoon out to me. “But you love it.”
I eye the spoon for a second before leaning in and taking the bite. The cold hits my tongue in the best way—and the way her eyes darken when I wrap my lips around the utensil? Yeah, that does things too.
I lick my lips. “Blimey. That’s good.”
