Page 75 of Saving Ian Pope

“I don’t know. Jack knows more than he lets on. He doesn’t tell me everything, and then only when it reaches critical proportions.” I clasped my hands behind my neck. Could Jessica be responsible for this, too?

Ivy had crossed the room to the window and stared out, her forehead pressed against the glass. “Isn’t this critical? You’re releasing your single shortly. The focus should be on that, not your kinky tastes.”

I lifted one eyebrow. “What else am I demanding over there on BlueFin?”

Raising her shoulders to her ears, Ivy said, “I’m not sure what else. Sex in public places.”

“Does sex in the back garden count?” I gave her a wink, and she turned a pretty shade of pink and poked me in the back.

“So, itisyou.”

“ThatotherIan Pope sounds like an alright bloke, after all.” I put my hands on either side of her, bracing them against the window. “You know what I’ve been fantasizing about ever since I brought you here last night?”

Her eyes got glassy as she ran the pink tip of her tongue across her lower lip, making me instantly hard. “What?”

I tapped the glass with my fingernail. “Taking you right here against this window in full view of...well, nothing because it’s a straight, unobstructed view of the river. So, I’m not quite as pervy as that other Ian Pope.”

Tilting her head, her hair fell over one of her beautiful hazel eyes. “Boats?”

“Pretty sure someone on a boat wouldn’t be able to see in a window this high.”

She licked her finger and drew a line on the glass. “We’d have to clean the window after. Couldn’t leave that mess for housekeeping.”

I had a mess alright. My mind snapped like an elastic band, jolting me back to reality. “Do you think Chloe could help?”

Ivy had been on her tiptoes, her teeth against my neck, and she nipped me.

“Ow.” I rubbed the spot.

“Did Denny and his threesome give you some ideas, or are you just trying to compete with the other Ian Pope, now?” She punched my bicep with all the force of a butterfly, a violent butterfly. “Chloecannothelp us.”

“Oof. I wasn’t thinking about that, Tink.” With my fist, I erased the smudge on the glass she’d made with her spit. “I was talking about the BlueFin profile. Can she do damage control on that app? I’d insist on paying her this time.”

She slumped against the window, her hands behind her. “Maybe.”

I kissed her plump, pouty mouth. “I’m sorry, baby. We can play out the window fantasy later. I’m gonna call Jack about this recent assault.”

“Can I listen in? Then I’ll call Chloe to see what she can do on BlueFin to shut down the scam.”

“Let’s go in the other room.” I nudged a box on the floor with my toe. “Can you start trying on these coats, so I can return the ones you don’t want to Sarah.”

“I’ll do it while you’re talking to Jack.” She picked up one of the boxes and did an exaggerated stagger. “What’s in here, a rug?”

I took the box from her and carried it into the sitting room, while I located Jack’s number on my phone. I placed the box on the coffee table and called Jack. He didn’t answer, so I texted him.

Ivy jerked her thumb over her shoulder. “Do you want something to eat?”

“Not hungry. You go ahead. I’m gonna change clothes.”

As she wandered into the kitchen, I walked into the bedroom. I took off my socks and unbuttoned my shirt, letting it hang open on my chest. Sitting on the edge of the bed, I ruffled my hair. Had Ivy really gone through the entire day thinking I fucked some other bird, and then gone through half the day thinking I’d created a profile on a dating app and sent pervy messages? At least she’d given me a chance to explain before jumping down my throat the minute I walked into the flat.

My gaze wandered around the bedroom. I hadn’t put much thought into this place. I’d never considered it a home away from my primary home in the country. It had always been a crash pad—a very expensive crash pad, but not much more. It also held loads of...uncomfortable memories for me. I’d partied here more times than I could remember. I’d woken up hung over, unable to recall shit from the previous night, reading about my fuckups the next day along with everyone else. Maybe I could start changing all those memories. Create new ones. It would be cheaper than selling.

I could hear Ivy clinking around the kitchen, so I called out her name.

“Yeah, did you change your mind? Do you want something to eat.”

“I do want something to eat. Come in here.” When she showed up at the bedroom door, I wiped the grin off my face and tried for bad boy moody.

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