My breath catches. "Here?"
"Here." His hands slide down to cup my backside, lifting me onto the kitchen counter. The cold granite against my thighs makes me gasp. "I want to make love to you in every room ofthis apartment. Start a tradition of christening every space that belongs to you."
"That's..." Heat pools low in my belly. "That's a lot of tradition."
"We've got time." He steps between my legs, his hands sliding up my thighs beneath my dress. "All the time in the world, sweetheart."
His mouth finds the sensitive spot beneath my ear, and I arch into him. This is the man who saw through my defenses. Who pushed me to demand more from life. Who stood beside me when everything fell apart and helped me rebuild stronger.
"I love you," I whisper, the words still new on my tongue but feeling more right each time I say them. "Thank you for teaching me that I deserve good things."
Declan pulls back just enough to meet my eyes. His pupils are dilated, his breathing uneven, but his expression is tender.
"You always deserved them, Ivy. I just helped you see it." His thumb traces my lower lip. "Now let me show you exactly how much you deserve to be loved."
His mouth crashes back to mine, and I lose myself in the sensation of his hands, his mouth, his body against mine. The empty apartment fades away until there's only us. Two people who found each other in the chaos and chose to build something real.
When he kisses me, I feel every sensation. When his hand brushes against my breast and he sucks my nipples, I cry out. When his fingers enters inside me, his tongue dances on my clit, and he enters inside me, thrusting slowly and filling me with all of himself, no moaning is enough. Because they’ve ended long ago as I come again and again.
I am breathless. Silent as shudders fill my body from head to toe.
We hold each other, shaking. Trembling. Whispering words of love to each other.
Later, much later, we lie tangled together on a blanket spread across the living room floor. My head rests on his chest, his heartbeat steady beneath my ear. The city lights twinkle beyond the windows, painting patterns across bare walls.
"Do you ever think about how different things could have been if I hadn't walked into that therapy room or you hadn’t picked up my phone?" I ask quietly.
His fingers trace lazy patterns on my bare shoulder.
"Every day. And every day, I'm grateful it happened exactly the way it did."
"Even the lying? The deception?"
"No." His voice is firm. "I'll regret that part for the rest of my life. But it brought me to you. To this. And I wouldn't trade this for anything."
I tilt my head to look at him, finding green eyes soft with affection. This is the man who sacrificed his career to protect mine. Who stood in front of cameras and told the truth even when it destroyed him.
"I'm glad you fought for us," I whisper.
"Always will." He brushes his lips across my forehead. "This is just the beginning, Doc. Your career is about to explode. The fellowship, the award, the international recognition. You're going to change the field of sports medicine."
The old anxiety tries to surface. The fear that I'll fail, that I'm not good enough, that I'll disappoint everyone who believes in me. But Declan's arms tighten around me, grounding me in this moment.
"We'll figure it out together," I say.
"Together," he agrees.
And lying here in my empty apartment, surrounded by the evidence of everything I've accomplished, I finally believe it.
I'm not Marcus Chandler's little sister anymore.
I'm Dr. Ivy Chandler. Award-winning researcher. Homeowner. Woman in love.
And for the first time in my life, that's enough.
32
Epilogue DECLAN
