Page 144 of The Devil of Downtown

Oh my god.

I swallow a smile.Elsie is completely in love with him.

“Els,” I say. “Did you meet Dane?”

Her little face lights up adorably, wide eyes still stuck on him. “Yes. When you were sleeping.”

Dane clears his throat. “She was filling me in on... an interesting nickname you apparently had for me.”

Heat rushes straight to my cheeks. “Absolutely not.”

“It was Doctor—,” Elsie starts.

“Elsie,” Sloane cuts in, though she’s already smiling.

I laugh despite myself, and regret it instantly as pain flares through my ribs. I fold forward, eyes squeezed shut.

“Jesus, Ivy.” Dane is at my side immediately, hand hovering like he doesn’t know where it’s safe to touch.

“I will personally eliminate anyone who makes me laugh today,” I manage, lifting a hand in warning.

His mouth curves. “I’ll do my best to restrain myself.”

“Did I just witness instant karma?” Sloane says, grinning.

I inhale carefully and glare half-heartedly in her direction. “I’m warning you, Sloane.”

Sloane checks her watch. “We need to get moving,” she says. “School run.”

Elsie pouts and turns back to me. “Auntie Ivy, can you take me to the park later?”

“Not today, Elsie,” Sloane says. “Ivy needs rest.”

She looks at me then, her voice quieter. “You’ll be safer at Dane’s,” she adds. “No little feet launching themselves at you at six a.m.”

Something in my chest settles fully at that. I nod, unable to stop smiling.

After they leave, the nurse appears with a clipboard and a kind smile.

“You’re doing well,” she says, checking my vitals. “The concussion symptoms are settling, and your ribs are badly bruised but stable. If you feel up to it, we can discharge you this morning.”

“Great,” I say, trying to conceal a flicker of pain at my sudden excitement. “When can I go back to dance training?”

Dane’s hold tightens on me. “Ivy, slow down.”

“What?” I bristle. “I’m fine.” Straightening, I immediately regret it; the pain so intense that my breath hitches. I smooth it over before either of them can comment. “I just don’t want to lose momentum.”

The nurse glances at Dane, a small, knowing smile touching her mouth, then looks back at me.

“Your scans look good,” she says gently. “But this was a high-impact collision. Between the concussion symptoms and the ribbruising, you’re looking at three to four weeks before returning to training.”

My heart sinks when I think of how hard I worked to get my latest role. I can only hope they don’t replace me, as being ready for opening night will be their priority.

“And you’re sure she’s fine to go today?” Dane says, the lines on his forehead deepening.

The nurse smiles at him. “Yes. With supervision. No driving. No stairs if you can help it. And rest means rest.”

“I’m excellent at supervising,” he says.