Page 74 of Saving Ian Pope

“So, youdidhave sex in my bed? Bro, that ain’t right.”

“Yeah, sorry about that. Emma got caught up looking out your window, and I got caught up in her. I did leave the bed messed up, so housekeeping would change the sheets. They did change the sheets, right?”

Ivy scrambled off the bed with a squeal, and I gave her a grin, relieved to have her back and relieved Denny proved my innocence—even though he was a wanker. “Sheets changed.”

“Okay, then. All good?”

“Cheers, Denny.” I ended the call and held up the phone. “Does that work?”

Ivy skipped toward me and threw her arms around my neck. “I knew you didn’t do anything. I was scared, but I knew there had to be a reason those ugly things were under your bed.”

I kissed her, like I’d wanted to since I walked through the door, her sweet lips a cure for everything bad. “Okay, settled. Do you want to try on the coats now? I need to keep you safe and warm. Oh, and would you mind if we did the find my phone thing on each other’s phone—especially if you’re going to be traipsing around London on your own. I mean, you don’t have to if you think it’s creepy or stalkerish. I would’ve been less worried about your silence today if I could’ve seen you were still at the British Museum.”

“Yeah, that’s cool. That’s fine.” She shook her finger. “Of course, that doesn’t work if someone attacks me, steals my phone, murders me, and stashes my body in the Underground.”

Frowning, I shook my head. “And then goes to the British Museum with your phone? That’s devious.”

She covered her mouth. “Oh. Speaking of devious. There’s something else I found out today.”

Just when my pulse had settled to a normal rate, her words made it race.

“Before I tell you...” She put her hand over her heart “...I just want to let you know, I don’t believe it, especially after the panty explanation.”

“Must be bad. Should I sit down?” I backed up to the edge of the bed.

“You probably should, but only if you’re absolutely sure those sheets are clean.”

I sank to the mattress. “What did you find out?”

“I talked to Chloe today.” She paced in front of me, twisting her fingers—never a good sign. “She joined a dating app, called BlueFin.”

Ivy looked up at me expectantly, and I shrugged. She continued. “It’s an exclusive app. You have to apply and be accepted based on things like net worth and...” she flapped her hands in the air “...probably what kind of car you drive.” She stole another look at me as if this was supposed to make any sense at all. It didn’t.

“Anyway, BlueFin accepted her, and she created a profile on the site.”

“Good for Chloe...I guess, but I’m not getting the connection.”

Ivy squeezed her eyes shut and wrinkled her nose. “She told me you also have a profile on BlueFin.”

“Huh? Me?” I poked myself in the chest just to make sure.

“Yes, but I told her it was a fake.” She chewed her bottom lip. “Right?”

“You think I have a profile on a dating app? Like, I’m actually trying to get dates out here while I’m living with you?” Ivy had said she didn’t believe it, but that’s not what this looked like. How many times did I have to defend myself?

“No, no. I don’t think that.” She folded her arms across her mid-section. “And this Ian Pope doesn’t seem to be actively trying to get dates, but he is proposing some kinky activities. You don’t want to pee on me, do you?”

“What!” I sprang from the bed and waved my arms in the air. “Is that what this fake Ian Pope is suggesting? That’s what people thinkI’minto?”

“It’s just like Duke Hammer, so obviously fake.” Ivy stroked my back as I followed the pacing route she’d already worn into the carpet.

“But it’s not apparent to some people, is it? Chloe thought it was me, or she wouldn’t have called you.” I shrugged away from her. “You must’ve had your doubts, especially after you found those knickers. Wait a minute. BlueFin? Fish site.”

“Yeah, I think it’s kinda fishy, too. What kind of dating app doesn’t vet its users?”

“I’m thinking about something Jack asked me a few days ago, something about a fish website.”

“Jack knows?” Ivy kicked the pair of knickers across the room. “Why didn’t he do something about it if he knew?”

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