“You do now?” I whisper, searching his face even though I already know the answer.
“Only because it starts with you.”
I’ve been convincing myself I’m too busy to date or letting anyone close. Yet here I am, tangled up with a man who sees me—really sees me—and I don’t want to run. The idea of letting him in feels less like a risk and more like relief.
“You’re such a sap.”
“For you?” he flashes a dimpled smile that makes my chest flutter. “Yeah, I am.”
We stay in bed for a while, fingers laced. The new year begins not with parties or champagne, but with the possibility of more.
32
TEDDY
JANUARY 1
I’ve been with more women than I can count. Late-night hookups. Quickies in bathrooms with the wrong people. Sharing hotel beds with names I barely remember. At some point, it all started to feel the same—meaningless and forgettable. Anything physical was a way to take the edge off and silence my brain for a little while, pretending I wasn’t as hollow as I felt.
Until Ivy.
Yesterday replays in my mind on loop. I’ve been sitting with the experience all morning. Not just what we did, but what it meant. She chose me, finding me worthy of her affection. I didn’t know what I was missing until I had her in my arms.
For the first time, sex wasn’t just a sequence of movements. I felt it in my heart, too, rewriting the definition of intimacy. My body still hums with the memory of her like she pressed fingerprints into my bones. And God, I hope to one day have all of her.
I don’t know what we are exactly, but last night wasreal. No matter what comes next, she’s more than a random hookup. Unlike all the other women, I don’t want to run away from her. What happened between us was amazing, but not enough when it comes to her. Ineedher in my life every way possible.
It sucks that she’s no longer part of my care team. I get why she chose to leave. She did the right thing, drawing those professional lines. But that doesn’t make it any easier. I’ll miss the steady comfort of her presence woven into my daily routine. The room already feels emptier without her cheery voice checking in. There’s also an empty spot in the bed where she laid last night, curled against my chest.
Now she’s packing up for the Ice Cross World Circuit, chasing her dream. I’m so damn proud of her, but the miles between us are heavy. Maybe it’s what we both need right now—space to work on ourselves. She deserves to give her whole heart to the sport she loves, just like I need to give mine to healing.
My phone buzzes, bringing me out of my thoughts. I reach left, tumbling around until my fingers find it. Holding the device, I command, “Hey Siri, read my recent messages.”
“You have recent messages from Jasper Åkerman. Jasper Åkerman said: ‘Hey brother, Happy New Year. How was last night?’ Would you like to reply?”
“Yes.”
“What do you want to say?”comes the voice I’ve grown used to over the past few weeks.
“Happy New Year. Exclamation mark. You pass out somewhere in a pile of glitter. Question mark.”
“Send it?”
“Yes,” I answer with a wide smile on my face, happy to be texting with my best friend.
A moment later, my phone pings.
Jasper
Alive. Barely. We had a fun time celebrating with the guys and their dates. Are you avoiding telling me about last night because something happened?
I snort. This is Jasper we’re talking about. He’ll take whatever I reply and turn it into a running joke that’ll haunt me until grave.
“Hey Siri, text Jasper: You could say last night was memorable. Full stop. Ivy is no longer my nurse and I might have shown her how much I appreciate the fact.”
Jasper
New year, new simp?
