Page 62 of Saving Ian Pope

“There might be a few there if Ronnie needs them to re-record anything. Dennis Foster might be by to do some guitar bits.” Another scary thought slammed me in the chest. If Denny showed up today and started talking, I could be in a world of hurt. I had to get ahead of this.

“Ivy...”

She dropped her toast. “I know. If I’m going, I’d better get out of your T-shirt and into the shower. Won’t be long, baby.”

Before I could stop her, and let’s face it, I didn’t try all that hard, she’d pushed back her chair, kissed me on the ear, and dashed upstairs, with Scruffy at her heels. That mutt was obsessed with her. I knew the feeling.

I’d lost my appetite, so I cleaned up the kitchen and followed Ivy upstairs on lead feet. She was singing in the shower, not one of my songs, so I sat on the edge of the bed, pulling Scruffy into my lap. This would go better if I had the cute dog with me.

She burst into the room, tucking a towel around her body. As she glanced up, she yelped and dropped the towel. I couldn’t do this with her naked.

“You scared me.” She grabbed the towel, replacing it around her body, as if I hadn’t seen and worshipped every inch of it, already. “Are you trying to rush me? I’ll be just a few minutes. I’ll put on my makeup in the car. Are you driving us in one of your fast machines, or is Jovan taking us?”

“Jovan is taking us. I thought we could spend the night at my flat there, maybe go out to dinner, or do whatever you want once I’m done.” No shame in trying to butter her up before I dropped the bomb.

“Wait, wait.” She tugged the towel tighter. “Flat? You have a flat in London?”

“I thought I told you about that. It’s on the South Bank, just a small place in a building, an apartment. I keep it if I’m working late or there’s some event that runs late in the city.”

“You never told me that.” She turned toward the dresser and pulled open the top drawer that contained her knickers.

She acted like it mattered. If she thought I’d kept that bit of information a secret for some reason, I’d better come clean right now about that other secret. “Uh, there are a couple of things I haven’t told you, Ivy.”

She froze, and her back stiffened. “That sounds ominous.” She spun around, clutching a pair of silky knickers to her chest and keeping the towel wound around her body.

“It’s...” I scooted Scruffy from the bed and patted the mattress beside him “...sit here.”

“I’m scared.”

“You don’t have to be scared. It’s not great news, but it shouldn’t change anything between us. At least, I hope it won’t.”

She practically dragged her feet across the rug to the bed and sat next to me, leaving about six inches between us. Her knee bounced. “Wh-what is it? Did you discover something?”

“What? No.” I shook my head and rubbed my knuckles against my beard. “I’m no longer six months sober.”

Chapter 21

IVY

Relief surged through me like a warm wave. Then I crossed my hands over my galloping heart. I’d been afraid his news involved my deceit, and I’d allowed my selfishness to make me feel some kind of way. Now, I felt another kind of way.

I scooched closer to him and took his hand. “So, whaddya got right now?”

“Thirty-seven days—two days before I found out you were coming back to me, so even before I knew you’d changed your mind about being with me, I stopped. I mean, I stopped pretty quickly. It happened on two different nights, but I totally fucked my sobriety, and I’m back at the starting gate.”

“Congratulations on thirty-seven days of sobriety.” I brought his hand to my lips and kissed the LII tattoo on the back of it. “I know you’ve probably been beating yourself up, but don’t. You know how this goes. W-was it bad?”

“Like black-out drunk bad?” He laced his fingers with mine. “The first time wasn’t pretty, but I didn’t go out in public. Didn’t go out the second time, either, which involved about four and a half glasses of whiskey, impaired but not totally off my face.”

“Four glasses of whiskey would have me on my ass.”

“One glass of whiskey would have you on your ass.” He flicked a piece of hair from my cheek. “And that’s a good thing, but I could tell my tolerance was off, so that’s a good thing, too.”

I put my arm around his shoulders, broad enough for me to lean on, but now he needed to lean on me. I squeezed him close. “Did you call your sponsor?”

“I did all that.” He took my hand dangling over his chest and pressed his lips against my palm. “I don’t want you to think it was because you broke up with me. I don’t want to put that pressure on you. And I’m not making excuses for myself. It’s always up to me. That decision is always on me.”

“Was it Thea?”

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