Havoc traced absentminded circles against her skin with his thumb.It wasn’t sexual but felt protective in a way that made her throat tighten.She felt the tension in him slowly ease, muscle by muscle, like a man who’d been braced for impact for far too long and was finally allowing himself to rest.
The silence between them wasn’t empty.It was full of things unsaid, of shared breaths and lingering emotion, of the fragile knowledge that something had shifted whether either of them was ready to name it or not.
Ivy swallowed, emotion swelling unexpectedly behind her ribs.She hadn’t realized how much she’d feared being pushed away until he didn’t do it.How much it mattered that he chose to stay like this, wrapped around her, instead of retreating behind old ghosts and scar tissue.
Havoc adjusted again, pulling her a fraction closer, his grip firming as if she might disappear if he loosened it.His lips brushed the back of her shoulder, barely a touch, almost unconscious.
“Stay,” he murmured, the word rough and unpolished, more instinct than request.
She closed her eyes.
“I’m not going anywhere,” Ivy said softly.
Chapter Nine
Havoc woke to warmth.That alone was wrong enough to jolt him halfway out of sleep, instincts snapping awake like a tripwire.His body knew cold mornings, empty beds, the sharp edge of silence pressing in from every side.This was different.
A woman lay curled against him.For one panicked second, he didn’t recognize her.He tightened his hand reflexively, fingers flexing against bare skin, and the past lunged at him full force.
Libby.The name of his dead old lady hit him like a blow to the chest.He opened his eyes fully then, heart thudding hard as he stared at the unfamiliar ceiling, the faint light filtering through the clubhouse window.
Memory rushed in, unwelcome and vivid.The night before.Ivy, with that bold and defiant look in her eyes, her tempting mouth against his.The way she’d looked at him like she saw all of him.
Slowly, carefully, Havoc turned his head.Ivy slept on her side, facing him, dark lashes fanned against her cheeks, lips parted slightly as she breathed.
Ivy had one arm draped over his chest.She rested her fingers just above his heart like it belonged there.Her hair spilled across his shoulder, warm and faintly scented with soap and paint and something uniquely her.
She looked peaceful, and for some inconceivable reason, that terrified him.Havoc swallowed, throat tight, and stared at her like she might vanish if he blinked.He hadn’t woken up next to someone like this since Libby.
Guilt crept in, cold and sharp.Would Libby hate him for this?The thought made his stomach twist.He imagined her laugh, the way she used to steal his hoodies, the way she’d teased him for being grumpy before coffee.
Would she feel betrayed if she could see him now, tangled up with another woman, letting someone else into the space she’d once filled so completely?
His chest ached.The worst part was, Ivy wasn’t just a warm body.She wasn’t a distraction or a mistake he could shove into a dark corner and forget.She mattered.Somewhere between her stubborn independence and the way she’d looked at him without fear, something inside him had shifted.
Last night, the walls he’d spent years building had cracked, and Havoc was terrified of what might spill through.
