Chapter 12
IAN
Accustomed to that familiar movement of photographers getting into position, I saw two men approach from the right and another hop off a wall and make a beeline for us.
I took Ivy’s hand, lacing my fingers through hers, as I laughed at something she’d said.
The photographers had gotten off several flashes before Ivy even noticed their presence. When the paps stepped in front of us, Ivy reared back, blinking her eyes.
When I felt her body stiffen, I tried to tuck her behind me, but there were too many people around. I murmured in her ear, “It’s alright. Just keep walking forward.”
The paps kept snapping, but by this time, Ivy had dipped her head, and her long, wavy hair created a curtain around her face.
One of the guys shouted out. “Hey, Ian, are you still sober?”
I flashed a peace sign, but this didn’t mollify the aggressive photographer, who’d stopped taking pictures. He continued yelling questions at me. “Are you making music, if that’s what you call it? Do you wish you had Sam’s career? How do you feel about your tanking popularity? Has Duke Hammer called to thank you for the publicity?”
I kept walking toward Nick, leaning against his limo. The wanker shouting the questions crowded in too close and bumped Ivy, who stumbled against me and gasped. My free hand curled into a fist at my side, and I elbowed him. “Watch out, mate.”
Nick lurched from the side of his limo and charged forward. “Hey, asshole, back the fuck off.”
With the door already open, Nick herded us into the car and slammed the door. As he got in the front, he cranked his head over his shoulder. “Are you alright, Ivy?”
She managed a weak smile as she sagged against me in the backseat. “I’m fine.”
After that assurance, Nick closed the privacy glass between the front and back and started to weave his way out of the parking lot.
Ivy’s body trembled against mine, and I hugged her close as I rubbed her thigh. “It’s okay. I’m sorry. It’s alright. Did you get hurt?”
She swung her leg over mine, almost climbing into my lap, her head dropping to my shoulder. A sob wracked her body, and anger and guilt warred in my chest. “Are you alright, Ivy? I’m sorry that happened.”
Turning to look up at me, her green eyes swimming with tears, she smoothed her hand over my heart. “I’m fine. I’m not hurt physically, but I’m devastated over that idiot’s questions. Why are people so cruel? You don’t deserve that. You’re just a human being trying to enjoy a night out. You don’t owe anyone anything, especially someone like that with his hateful questions designed to goad you and strike at you. I’m so sorry, baby.”
Feeling about two feet tall, I swiped a tear from her cheek with the pad of my thumb. Those paps had just scared the life out of her, and she was sitting here worried about me and a couple of random questions—from a situation that I’d set up.
I let out a long breath. “I’m glad you’re okay. Don’t worry about that guy. You don’t think I’ve heard those questions before? I have, and worse. Doesn’t bother me at all.”
Her head shot up. “Just because you adhere to that damned pact, it doesn’t mean strangers have the right to attack you.”
Her eyes blazed and her cheeks flushed in her defense of me, and something swelled in my chest. Not even my PR team had ever stood up for me with so much passion.
I kissed her trembling lips. “I love...love that you’re so vehement on my behalf, but I was more upset that he was invading your space than at his pathetic, juvenile questions. Did it ruin the night for you?”
“Oh, no. The concert was great, and I loved sharing it with you. I could tell you were enjoying yourself and that meant a lot.”
She shook her head. “I just don’t understand why those paparazzi would be stalking a Van concert at the Greek. You saw the crowd—not that interesting.”
I toyed with a lock of her hair. Should I tell her? I hated being deceptive, but even more I’d hate the look of contempt and pity in her eyes once I admitted my pathetic need for recognition. “I don’t know. It’s a concert venue in LA on a Saturday night. Maybe they just figured they’d get lucky.”
My answer seemed to placate her, and my kisses had calmed her, reducing her tears to a few sniffles. She still stayed glued to my side, her hand in mine for the rest of the ride home, and I had no complaints about that. The lie had been worth it.
As Nick glided the behemoth to a stop in front of Ivy’s place, I rapped on the glass partition and Nick rolled it down. “Somewhere else?”
“No, this is good. Just wanted to thank you, mate, for what you did back there. It helped.”
“No problem. I’ve encountered those guys before, total pricks. They’re gonna get someone hurt one of these days.”
He jerked his thumb to the back seat. “Your girl okay?”
“She’s fine. Do you ever do any bodyguard work?”
The guy had biceps as big as grapefruits and a chest that could probably repel a bowling ball.
“I haven’t done.”
“If you’re interested, give me your card. I have a lot of friends out here that could use someone trustworthy. I’d give you a good reference.”
“Thanks, yeah.”
Nick reached in his suit jacket pocket and handed me a card. “I’d be interested in that.”
As we walked to Ivy’s front door, she said, “That was kind of you.”
“No, I’m serious. Did you see how that guy was built? And he knows how to handle himself. Charlie lives out here part-time, and he’d be chuffed to find someone like that he could trust.”
Chloe had gone to San Diego for the weekend, so we had the place to ourselves, and my mind was still buzzing with ideas, even after the encounter with the paparazzi. I’d meant what I said to Ivy. The photographer’s questions had been mild compared to some of the other abuse thrown my way. Did it bother me? I’d stuffed those kinds of feelings down so far, I probably couldn’t even identify them if they bit me on the ass. On some level, I almost felt as if I deserved the abuse, but Ivy’s defense of me had struck a chord. Why should I accept that vilification?
Because you asked for it. You planned it. You invited it.
I pulled my laptop from the charger on the kitchen table and tucked it under my arm. “Would you mind if I stayed up for a while and did some work? I’ve had this song running through my head for two hours, and I want to nail it down before it escapes me.”
“I don’t mind.”
She yawned and then downed a glass of water. “I’m going to bed. Do you want a snack or anything?”
“Do you have anything unhealthy in this house? I don’t want fruit. I don’t want nuts. I don’t want Greek yogurt.”
She opened a cupboard, reached in, and dangled a bag of crisps in the air. “These are Chloe’s potato chips. I don’t think she’d mind if you ate the rest. You’ve kinda grown on her.”
“Thank, God.”
I snatched the bag out of her hand. “I’ll buy her another before I go home.”
The words hung between us awkwardly, and Ivy sliced a hand through the air as if swatting them away. “She probably won’t even notice.”
She hooked her arms around my neck, and I put down my laptop and the crisps so I could hug her back. She said, “I’m sorry about those horrible paparazzi. Hope they didn’t spoil our night out for you.”
“It would take a lot more than a couple of rude questions to spoil any night I spend with you, Tink.”
I kissed her and said, “Go to bed. Can’t wait to see what you have in store for me tomorrow.”
She sauntered off to her bedroom, and I planted myself on the sofa, my computer in my lap and the bag of crisps by my side. My fingers flew across the keyboard, as I spewed out all the words and phrases I’d collected during the show.
Once I had the words down, I organized them into coherent thoughts and grouped them into verses. Certain lines jumped out at me that would work as the chorus, and the phrase that ran through my head had already suggested a tune.
By the time I emerged from the cloud of creativity that had enveloped me, over two hours had passed. I saved my work and rubbed the stiffness from the back of my neck.
I tiptoed into the bedroom and slipped into the bathroom to brush my teeth and undress. I turned off the bathroom light before opening the door to the bedroom. Ivy hadn’t moved an inch since I’d come into the room, and I didn’t want to wake her, although the idea of sleeping right now seemed like something on a distant planet.
As I slid between the cool sheets next to her, she murmured and rolled toward me, turning me on with her naked body. I smoothed her hair back from her face, and along with the lust that tightened my balls, an ache of tenderness throbbed in my throat. Had I almost told her I loved her tonight? That was crazy...wasn’t it?
I wanted her to come home with him, but I didn’t feel as if I had the right to ask her to uproot her life. She hadn’t brought it up, either. Was she waiting for me to make a move? I didn’t quite know how I was going to function without her, but I didn’t want to saddle her with that burden.
For all her cheeriness, I caught a look in her eyes sometimes—fear, dread, angst—something that didn’t match up with her outward sunny disposition. But, while my life was an open, messy book, she kept a tight lid on her background and experiences. A little worm niggled my brain, telling me to run, or at least start demanding some answers, but if she wanted to tell me about her past, I just wanted to give her a clear path to do so without pushing her.
Her fingers found my lips in the dark, and she traced their outline. “I’ve been waiting for you.”
I drew her thumb into my mouth and sucked on it while she slid her other hand across my abs to my cock, already hard for her.
Skin to skin, I moved against her body. She opened up to me like a petal after the rain, and I made love to her. If I couldn’t tell her I loved her, if I couldn’t tell her I was sorry for tonight, if I couldn’t tell her I wanted her to come back to England with me—I’d just have to show her.
***
The following morning, I woke up and reached for Ivy, but she’d already gotten up, leaving behind the scent of her floral perfume and the muskiness of our mingled bodies. I rubbed my eyes as the strains of my last hit wafted into the bedroom. Was I dreaming?
I bolted out of bed and grabbed last night’s briefs on my way to the living room. I hopped into the kitchen on one leg, pulling on my underwear. “I can’t believe it; you’re actually listening to my music.”
“Why wouldn’t I be listening to this banger?”
Waving a knife at my crotch, she said, “You need to cover that up in here.”
I snapped the waistband of my underwear around my hips and grabbed her from behind. “Be careful with that thing.”
She winked. “That’s what she said.”
“Seriously, are you listening to an oldies station, or what?”
I nuzzled her neck and nibbled on her shoulder.
“Don’t denigrate yourself.”
She reached back and tapped my head with the handle of the knife. “Didn’t you tell me something like that the first day we met?”
“I’m sure I didn’t use the word denigrate, but probably.”
I popped a piece of banana in my mouth.
She asked, “Did you get a lot of work done last night?”
“I did, yeah. So excited about this music.”
“So, you’ll start recording next week?”
Her hands fluttered around the countertop as if she’d forgotten how to make a smoothie.
“Not right away. I’m going to finish the songs with a writing partner, someone I worked with in the days of the band. We might do some of the work in the recording studio. Jack already scheduled time for us.”
I touched the ends of her ponytail as it swung against her back.
“You’ll be busy.”
She finally found the spinach and stuffed it into the blender. “You’ll get to spend some time with your daughter, too.”
“Can’t wait. I’ve been in touch with her mum, and she’s agreed to let me see her unsupervised. That’s a huge leap for her.”
“And you.”
She started piling ingredients into the blender almost at random. “Three more days. I’ll take you to the airport.”
Was that a catch in her voice? I opened my mouth to speak, but she cranked on the blender, drowning me out. With my smoothie on the way to being liquefied, I reached around her and flicked off the switch. “I’d like you to come with me.”
“To England?”
Her voice squeaked, and she gripped the edge of the counter.
Stroking her back, I said, “Did you really think I could leave you behind? Is that what you want?”
She turned, wedging her back against the counter and folding her arms. “I can’t just give up my life here.”
“You’d be able to work. You don’t have a nine to five job here. You could use one of the rooms in my house for an office. It’s not like you have...”
“Family?”
She raised her eyes to my face, and her bottom lip trembled.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that.”
I pinched her chin. “I know you have Chloe and your other friends and your writing group and your work at the animal shelter, but you could come back here whenever you want. You wouldn’t have to sell your place. You’ve been to the UK before. You liked it, right?”
“Of course, yes, but I don’t know if I could just uproot my life.”
“Sometimes it’s seemed to me like that’s exactly what you’d like to do, Ivy.”
I traced the edge of her ear. “But I don’t want to pressure you. I know we have something between us, some bond. Am I delusional?”
“If you are, I am, too.”
She shuffled forward a few steps and buried her nose against my chest. “I’ve been pushing your departure out of my mind. I don’t want you to go. I wish you could stay here with me.”
“I know, but it’s not just the record. I need to have a relationship with my daughter. I’ve selfishly squandered the time I could’ve been with her, and now that I’m...better, I need to restore her trust in me.”
“Of course, you do, and I want that for you.”
She spun around and poured the green sludge from the blender into two glasses. “I could visit.”
I squeezed the back of my neck. “Do you want a long-distance relationship where we’d see each other a few times a year? It’s not like Chloe and Trent in San Diego. You’d meet someone else, and I’m not tying you down like that.”
The thought of Ivy with another man felt like a knife to the gut. She never mentioned ex-boyfriends. I’d glanced at her phone a few times and had seen texts from someone named Matt on a couple of those occasions. Was he an ex? I knew she must have one or two of those. Those condoms in her nightstand were proof enough, and I didn’t flatter myself our sex was so hot just because I was Ian Pope. Ivy was a sensual person, loving and demonstrative. She did have the giant purple vibrator in there too, so she could be going it alone, although it’s not like we hadn’t been able to have some fun with that together.
Handing me a glass, she asked, “What are you thinking about?”
“Uh, sex.”
Her eyebrows shot up, and she clinked her glass against mine. “Yeah, I’ll miss that, too.”
I grinned. “I think I almost have you convinced. It’s the sex that’ll push you over. Oh, and I even have a dog, if that helps.”
“You do?”
She crossed her hands over her heart. “A big dog?”
“Just a little thing.”
I held my hands about two feet apart. “His name is Scruffy.”
“Scruffy? Un-ironically Scruffy?”
“Nope, just Scruffy. My daughter named him.”
“Then it’s a perfect name. I’ll think about it. I can’t leave with you this week, though.”
She shoved me out of her way and padded to the kitchen table, set for breakfast in the usual charming manner.
I’d miss more than the sex. In fact, I had the desperate feeling that I wouldn’t be able to survive without her.
As she sat down, her phone rang, and she answered it. “What’s up, Chloe?”
I carried my breakfast to the table and sat across from her. “Tell Chloe...”
I stopped when I got a look at Ivy’s pale face.
She stuttered. “A-are you sure?”
“What’s wrong?”
I hunched forward, elbows on the table.
“It was awful. Yeah, I’ll have a look.”
She paused. “No, I’m sure it’s okay. You’re right.”
She leveled a finger at my laptop on the table, and I dragged it toward me.
“Thanks, Chloe. I’ll be fine. See you in a bit.”
“What was that all about?”
I flipped open my laptop. “And what do you want me to do with this?”
She pressed her hands against her pink cheeks. “We’re online. Those freakin’ paps already sold our pictures.”