Chapter 13
IAN
I eased out a slow breath.
“Chloe said there are pictures of us from last night online. Go to those British sites.”
Ivy stuffed her hands beneath her thighs, and her knees bounced up and down.
Bloody hell. That was fast. I knew exactly which sites to check, and I maneuvered to the first one. I scrolled down the right-hand side, and the thumbnail picture jumped out at me. I clicked on it, holding my breath. This had better have been worth it.
Good picture. I unclenched my jaw. I looked...normal, Ivy a beauty at my side. I skimmed through the shots, and they’d published the ones right after I’d noticed the paps with Ivy still smiling and laughing up at me, even one of us sharing a kiss.
I tilted the laptop toward her, so she could see. “Yeah, that’s us.”
“Ugh.”
She covered her face with her hands. “What does it say?”
I cleared my throat. “Ian Pope snapped outside a Van Morrison concert at the Greek Theatre in Los Angeles with stunning auburn-haired mystery woman.”
My lips twitched. Jack had almost nailed the headline.
“Stunning? Does that really look like me?”
She leaned forward, squinting at the display. “I guess it does.”
“You look great. What are you worried about?”
Her lips tightened a fraction, and a shadow darkened her eyes. “What else does it say? Did they report on that photographer’s nasty questions?”
“Let’s see.”
I tracked my finger along the words on the screen. “Former boybander, blah, blah, blah. Rehab, blah, blah. Troubled singer, blah, blah.”
I raised my hand. “Ah-ha. Pope looked to be in good spirits, flashing his signature smile.” I grinned at Ivy, showing all my teeth. “He and his date seemed to be having a good time as he ushered her to his waiting limo. Well, it wasn’t my bloody limo, was it?”
“That’s not too bad. They must’ve missed the part when that idiot almost knocked me over. Anything else?”
“It’s rumored that a new album is in Pope’s future, and there’s positive buzz around the songs, written in collaboration with one of the writers who worked with Five2Go.”
My shoulders relaxed. Jack had done his job.
“How do they know all that?”
Tilting her head to one side, she wrapped her ponytail around her hand.
“I do have a manager and PR team behind me, and occasionally they’re able to generate some beneficial news about me to the press.”
She side-eyed the screen once more before taking a sip of her neglected drink. “That’s horrible having your face out there.”
Tracing the tip of my finger around her head in the picture, I said, “Your beautiful face. They like me again because they like you. They’re happy that you’re not a celebrity or influencer.”
“How do you know all that?”
“I read a few of the comments.”
She dropped the toast she’d just picked up. “You’re kidding me. There are comments?”
“Don’t read them. They can take you down a rabbit hole. Just believe what I say. Very favorable comments about you and your appearance.”
She crossed one index finger over the other and held up her hands as if warding off an evil spell. “I don’t want to read any comments about my appearance.”
“I don’t blame you and I don’t encourage it, but they are good.”
“And you?”
Dropping her eyes to her plate, she folded her hands. “Are the comments about you okay, or are they...mean?”
“Like I said earlier, they like you, so they like me.”
There were still some comments slagging me off but not as many as usual. I ran a hand back from my forehead; was my hairline really receding as fast as my career? Ivy didn’t need to know any of that. I snapped my laptop closed. “Enough of that. Let’s eat and go to the...”
“Griffith Park. We can take a hike and then go to the observatory later.”
“We were in that area last night.”
I shoved my laptop out of the way and dug into my breakfast. “If we’re hiking, I’ll skip my run this morning. Got up too late, anyway.”
“Okay, you finish breakfast. I’ll take a shower first.”
She carried her dishes to the sink. “Oh, and Chloe called me from her car. She’s almost home. Left San Diego early after a big fight with Trent.”
“Uh-oh. Does that mean she’s going to be in a foul mood.”
I put my hands over my head. “Should I take cover?”
“I think I was too distracted by those pictures to dwell on her misery or anger—depending on what Trent did this time.”
On her way to her bedroom, Ivy messed up my hair with one hand and then kissed the top of my head. “Don’t worry. I’ll protect you, just like you protected me last night.”
When I heard the shower start, I jumped back online and scanned through a few more articles with pictures. The stunt had worked out okay. If I’d been drunk, I might’ve hauled off and punched the annoying photographer instead of poking him with my elbow. But I wasn’t, and I didn’t.
The front door burst open, and I slammed my laptop shut.
Chloe shouted to no one in particular, “That drive is a bitch, and I don’t have to make it, anymore.”
She dropped something in the hallway and rounded the corner to the kitchen. Seeing me, she tripped to a stop. “Where’s Ivy?”
I tipped my head toward the hallway. “Taking a shower. You alright?”
“Fan-fucking-tastic! I got rid of that jerk, finally.”
She collapsed in the chair Ivy had vacated. “So, you went to the Greek last night and got papped. Ivy must’ve loved that.”
I licked a bit of strawberry from my lip. “It upset her, but we got through it okay.”
“But there are pictures all over the place.”
Chloe launched herself out of the chair and bent over, opening a cupboard. She studied the contents, intently.
“The photos are good, and she looks great.”
I felt as if I were mounting a defense of myself, which I was.
“Ivy doesn’t care about that shit.”
Chloe crouched in front of the cupboard. “You see a bag of chips?”
Damn. “I, um, ate them last night. Sorry, I’ll replace them.”
“No problema.”
She grabbed a box of sugary cereal instead and crammed her hand inside the box. As she munched, she narrowed her eyes at me. “Good concert?”
“Yeah, it was great.”
“Ivy takes all her dates to see Van when he’s in town.”
An orange circle from the cereal was clinging to Chloe’s chin, but she chewed on, oblivious, and I didn’t feel like helping her right now.
I swallowed. “All her dates?”
“What can I say? She loves Van.”
She lifted her shoulders to her ears and continued crunching the cereal as if she hadn’t just tilted my entire world off its axis.
“Ivy has a lot of boyfriends? Exes?”
I hoped they were exes.
“Boyfriends? Who said anything about boyfriends? Ivy doesn’t do boyfriends—wait, that came out wrong. She doesn’t do the boyfriend thing. Dates a guy for a month or two and then...”
Chloe made a fizzing sound with her lips “—gone.”
I counted on my fingers under the table. I wouldn’t even last a month if she didn’t come to England with me. And if she did come with me? Would she leave after a month?
Chloe threw some cereal at me, hitting my face. “Don’t get those sad puppy dog eyes. Things seem be a little different with you.”
I jerked my head up. “Really? How?”
“She’s all over you for one thing.”
She crinkled her nose. “I mean, you’re both all over each other, and it’s really annoying.”
She waved her hand at the table, scattered with colored bits of cereal. “And all this. She wants to make you comfortable, take care of you, please you. It’s like she’s playing wifey, and I’ve never seen her like that before. I figured it was because you’re a filthy rich popstar.”
“That’s comforting.”
I raked a hand through my messy hair.
She leveled a finger at me. “I don’t know why she’s fallen so fast and hard for you. She can’t even get over losing her fucking dog. So, I don’t know what kind of popstar, voodoo bullshit you cast over her because she’s a goner. All this is not usually her thing, but someone can get starry-eyed when face-to-face with her teen idol.”
I opened my mouth to remind Chloe that Ivy had never claimed to be particularly obsessed with me, but Ivy’s voice sliced down the hallway. “Chloe?”
Ivy’s tone sounded anything but caring and comforting, and Chloe put a finger to her lips. “Yep, I’m back, and I’ll tell you everything about that rat bastard once I work off my aggressions at the gym.”
“Can you come in here first, please?”
As Chloe walked past me, I said in a sing-song voice, “Someone’s in trouble.”
Furious whispers skittered into the kitchen before a door slammed. Ivy couldn’t blame me for Chloe’s big mouth. I hadn’t even encouraged her. But she didn’t have anything bad to say about Ivy, and the idea that her feelings seemed to be different for me had raised my hopes that she’d come back to England with me.
I’d forgotten to charge my phone last night, so I left it plugged in on the kitchen table, face down, as I got up to clear my dishes and wash everything in the sink.
Several minutes later, Ivy emerged from the back rooms on a cloud of her musky, floral perfume in a pair of cut-off denim shorts, an off-white body suit, and white trainers on her feet.
She dangled a pink hoodie from her fingertips. “It’s going to be hot and sunny on the trail, but the observatory might be cold. I’ll take a little daypack with water and stuff.”
I raised my eyebrows. “Everything okay with Chloe?”
“She and Trent break up every few months.”
She flicked her fingers. “She’s alright.”
From the set of Ivy’s mouth, I could see she was determined to ignore anything she may have overheard Chloe telling me. She was an expert at dismissing anything related to her personal life while mine had played out on center stage across the media.
“That’s...good.”
I dried my hands on a dish towel and hung it up. “I’m gonna shower and get dressed. I won’t be too long.”
I nearly bumped into Chloe coming out of the hallway, dressed in workout clothes. She rolled her eyes at me and called out, “I’m off to the gym. Oops, where’s my phone?”
She went into the kitchen. “Nope that’s yours.”
Silently, Ivy pointed to Chloe’s phone on the coffee table, and she swept it up. “Bye.”
Ivy remained silent, so I gave Chloe a wave and headed to the bathroom. I showered, did not bother shaving, and put on some shorts and a tank top. After tying my shoes, I grabbed a hoodie, and the LA Dodgers baseball cap Ivy had bought for me—her thoughtfulness always touched me. Chloe hadn’t been wrong about that. Ivy took care of me in a way I didn’t deserve.
“I’m ready, and I have my Dodger hat.”
I veered into the kitchen to grab my phone from the charger, but the end of the chord hung off the edge of the table, empty. Had Chloe taken it by mistake?
“Your Dodger hat?”
I swung around and took a step back when Ivy thrust my phone in my direction, a deluge of negative energy hitting me like a tidal wave. “What?”
“Are you sure you don’t want to leave the Dodger cap at home in case the paparazzi happen to be on the trail taking pictures? You wouldn’t want them to miss you, would you?”
She knew. Was it too late to join Chloe at the gym?