Page 35 of The Dating Ban (Mind the Corbin Brothers #1)

Level Up

Ivy

L ucy's soft, even breathing fills the dim bedroom as her little fingers still cling to the edge of her duvet. I smile, tucking a stray curl out of her face before carefully slipping off the bed.

Another bedtime story down.

Another night when my heart feels far too full for something that I thought I would never experience.

I brush the thought aside and quietly head into the hallway, closing the door softly behind me. As I make my way towards the living room, I spot Theo sprawled out on the sofa, his long legs outstretched, busy flipping through something on his laptop.

He glances up when he hears me and nods towards the space next to him. "She's out?" he asks.

"Completely," I reply with a sigh, stretching my arms above my head. "Didn't even get past the big reveal."

Theo smirks. "Amateur. "

I settle on the other end of the sofa, curling my feet underneath me. "What about you? Got any exciting plans tonight?"

"Well..." He tilts the laptop screen towards me. "I was thinking of watching something. Fancy it?"

I snort, spreading my arms wide, as if to take in the whole room. "There's no TV here, Theo."

He raises an eyebrow. "And?"

I frown in confusion. "And how do you plan on watching anything then?"

A playful smirk tugs at his lips, as though he’s about to let slip an important secret. Then he taps the laptop. "I've got Line of Duty downloaded."

I gasp. "You’re into Line of Duty ?"

"Obviously," he replies with a scoff. "What kind of person do you take me for?"

I laugh softly, feigning disbelief. "The kind of person who should have mentioned that three nights ago."

"Fair point." Theo shrugs, scrolling through his files. "So, which season are we watching? Picking up where you left off or starting from the beginning?"

"You mean you’re up for a full rewatch from season one?"

Theo nods, mockingly serious this time. "I’m dedicated to the craft."

"I reckon you're just saying that because you're a fan of Keeley Hawes," I tease him.

"Okay, first of all—" he says, placing a hand on his chest in mock offence, "that’s season two."

I snort.

"Secondly," he continues, clicking on the first episode, "if we're rewatching, we do it properly. "

I settle in as the opening credits roll. "I think this is the most attractive thing you’ve done all week."

Theo chuckles as he adjusts the laptop on his lap. "You really have low standards."

And that’s when I realise I've made a mistake.

I hadn’t thought about the logistics of watching a show like this.

Theo’s warm presence beside me is almost too much—his arm brushes against mine as he shifts the laptop, and I feel his nearness everywhere. The clean, warm, and delightfully pleasant scent of him swirls around me, completely messing with my focus.

I swallow hard.

This is fine.

It’s just a show. Just the two of us watching Line of Duty .

Not a big deal.

Except my heart's doing somersaults every time he moves, every time his arm grazes mine, every time I catch even a faint whiff of him, soapy and warm and unmistakably Theo.

I press my lips together, forcing my focus back to the screen.

Because this? This is exactly the danger that will cause me to break my ban.

I exhale slowly, keeping my gaze fixed on the laptop.

I can do this.

I just have to ignore the way his arm keeps brushing mine, and the way he smells, and the fact that I kind of, sort of, don’t ever want to move .

The first episode ends, the screen fading to black before the credits roll. I stretch my arms above my head and glance over at Theo.

"Well," I say, tilting my head, "still think starting from season one was a good idea?"

Theo smirks, shifting slightly as he sets the laptop on the coffee table. "Obviously. I enjoy watching you watch it."

I scoff. "Oh, what, because I’m so expressive?"

He nods. "Exactly."

Theo lets out a laugh, but before I know it, his hand darts out and pokes me right in the ribs.

I squeak.

Oh no.

His grin widens. "Oh."

I shake my head. "Theo, don’t—"

But it's too late.

His fingers dig into my sides, and I shriek, twisting away from him.

"No, no, no—" I protest, trying to wriggle free, but he’s relentless, laughing as I squirm. "I hate you!"

"You keep saying that," he teases, continuing his playful assault, "yet here you are."

I grab one of his wrists, trying to shove him away, but in the tussle, he loses his balance.

And suddenly—

He lands on top of me.

The atmosphere shifts.

His weight gently pins me against the sofa, his hands braced on either side of my head. My breath catches.

His expression softens—the smile fading into something quieter, heavier.

Neither of us moves .

My fingers, still curled around his wrist, stop pushing. His body is so close I can feel his warmth and the steady rhythm of his breathing.

His eyes drift to my mouth again.

I swallow hard.

There's a long, charged pause.

And then—slowly, almost unbearably—he lowers his head.

My heart pounds. I could stop this. I should.

But I don’t.

His nose brushes against mine, and I forget to breathe.

Then, finally—finally—his lips meet mine.

And I melt.

The first kiss is tentative, as if he’s waiting for me to pull away. But when I don’t, when I can’t, he deepens the kiss, his lips firm and searching.

I sigh into him, my fingers sliding up his arms, my body instinctively leaning into his warmth.

It’s slow, deep, intoxicating.

And completely against every rule I’ve been trying to stick to.

But at this moment?

I couldn’t care less.

The kiss grows so deep it pulls me under like a riptide.

I can’t say how long it lasts—seconds or minutes—but then, as if a switch has been flipped, reality crashes back.

I freeze.

Theo must feel it too because he immediately pulls back, his breathing uneven, his forehead barely not touching mine.

His eyes are wide, searching mine, and I know—he’s thinking exactly what I am .

We shouldn’t have done that.

We can’t have done that.

I scramble upright, trying to create some space between us. My skin burns, my heart races, and Theo—Theo runs a hand through his tousled hair and exhales sharply.

“Shit.” His voice is rough. “I—I just broke your dating ban.”

I groan, leaning back against the sofa. “I swore to my therapist I’d stick to it. I promised.”

He rubs the back of his neck, looking half-apologetic, half-something else. “I, uh… technically I don’t think a kiss was part of your therapist’s official ban, right? Just, you know… dating?”

I shoot him a dry look. “Oh, I'm sure that's exactly what she meant. ‘Go ahead and make out with random men, as long as you don’t have dinner with them.’”

Theo winces. “Ouch.”

I sigh, shaking my head. “Not you. Sorry. It’s just… me. My whole pattern.” I wave vaguely. “The very reason I even set up this fucking ban in the first place.”

He hesitates, then, in the sweetest, most tentative way, asks, “What about after the dating ban?”

I turn my head, blinking in surprise.

His fingers tap once on his knee, as if he’s nervous but determined. “I mean…” He clears his throat. “Would a date after the ban still count as breaking the rules?”

My stomach flips.

I open my mouth, then close it, before exhaling a laugh and shaking my head. “You're asking if I’d go on a date with you in a few weeks?”

His lips twitch. “I could set a reminder. Keep everything very official. ”

I giggle like a naughty school girl. “You’re impossible.”

But my heart is still pounding.

Because the truth is—I want to say yes. And I guess this is my answer. This is what Pee-Pee told me. When it’s right, I’ll know.

"Alright. Ask me again when the ban’s over," I say confidently.

Theo studies me carefully before shifting to pull his phone from his pocket.

“What are you doing?”

“Setting a reminder.” He scrolls through his phone like it’s the most natural thing.

Again, I let out a laugh. “You’re not serious.”

“Completely serious,” he assures me, tapping away on his calendar. “So… when’s the big day?”

I press my lips together, suddenly feeling far too warm.

I shouldn’t encourage this. I should laugh it off, change the subject, pretend it isn’t making my stomach do backflips.

Instead, I sigh dramatically, resting my chin on my hand. “The first of September.”

Theo nods, keying something into his phone. “Alright. Three weeks from today.”

I lean in slightly, squinting. “What exactly are you putting in there?”

He angles his screen so I can see, and he’s typed:

"Level up! Quest to call Ivy."

I stare at it, something oddly warm curling through my chest.

He meets my gaze, his smirk softening just slightly. “Satisfied? ”

I roll my eyes, but my smile betrays me. “You’re such a dork.”

“Yep,” he agrees easily, locking his phone and slipping it back into his pocket. “But now it’s official.”

I shake my head, settling back against the sofa. “What if I change my mind?”

Theo shrugs, completely unbothered. “Then I’ll pretend I set the reminder for something else. Like… reminding you to top up your Oyster card or submit your meter reading.”

I snort. “Oh, romantic.”

He grins. “I try.”

There’s a pause, the easy teasing settling into something more intimate.

His arm is still stretched along the back of the sofa, close enough that I can feel his warmth, and I know if I leaned just a little, I’d be right up against him.

Three weeks.

That’s not long. That’s not long at all.

But right now it feels like forever.

I exhale sharply, forcing a light tone. “Alright, Casanova. Press play before I start reconsidering.”

Theo chuckles, but there’s something in his expression—something knowing—as he reaches for the laptop and does exactly that.

And as the episode starts, I find myself trying to work out how many minutes there are in three weeks.