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“He means well,” Ian says, moving to the couch and sinking down onto it. “Does the network know?”
I nod grimly. “Gia called me into her office after we got done filming.”
“I’m sure they advised you to jump ship,” he says woodenly.
“They can’t do that,” I argue.
He purses his lips. “They can strongly suggest.”
“It doesn’t matter. I wouldn’t, anyway. There’s nothing going on. You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“Tell that to the rest of the world.”
“I don’t care what the rest of the world thinks.”
He eyes me sadly. “Maybe you should.”
I rear back, my mouth parting in surprise. “What?”
He runs one large hand over his face, his chest rising and falling as he exhales slowly. “I don’t know. I just hate the idea that you’re being dragged into my shit.”
“I knew that was a risk when we started this.”
“I know that, I do, but…” His head drops to the back of the couch. “I fucking hate it. Even more than seeing them talk about me. They’re acting like you’re naive for even starting something with me to begin with, given my history. They don’t even know for sure that anything is going on between us, and now they’re judging you for the relationship you might be having with me? It’s so fucked up, Lila.”
My heart swells at his obvious concern for me, and I scoot closer, wrapping my arm around his middle and letting my head fall to his shoulder as I squeeze him. “I know it is, but it’s not your fault. It’s really not.”
“It feels like it is. Sometimes. I mean, it feels like everything I touch ends up tainted somehow. I can’t seem to turn my fucking head without disappointing someone.”
Despite the defeat in his tone, I feel his arm wind around me to hold me closer, his temple resting against my hair as his body releases some of the tension it was holding. I place my hand to his chest, rubbing slow circles over his T-shirt in what I hope is a soothing motion.
“It’s going to be fine,” I assure him. “It will blow over.”
“That still doesn’t solve the entire issue,” he says quietly. “What happens when we…confirm the rumors? If that’s even something you want to do. I could definitely see why you wouldn’t.”
“What?” I pull back, jerking my head away from his shoulder to look at him. “Of course it’s something I want.”
He looks genuinely surprised. “It is?”
“Are you kidding? Do I need to ask Alexa to play ‘Teenage Dream’ for you? How can I express more than I already have that I’m literally living a dream come true right now?”
His throat works with a swallow. “I guess I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop. It doesn’t feel real sometimes.”
“It’s real,” I urge. “At least to me. Is it real to you?”
“Of course it is,” he says without any hesitation. “Lila, being with you…” He shakes his head. “It’s fucking real.”
“Then we’re fine,” I assure him. “Everything is going to be fine.”
“How can you be sure?”
There’s uncertainty in his gaze, as well as something that looks suspiciously like fear, and I realize that despite him suggesting the idea that it might be easier for me to walk away, he’s actually terrified that I might. It makes it that much easier to hold on.
“I can’t,” I tell him honestly. “I can’t be sure of anything—that’s what my life has taught me. I learned that when I was six.” My chest squeezes at the thought of my parents, their loss an old wound that rarely acts up anymore, but thinking of them now, considering the idea that there might be a future out there where I could lose Ian too—it’s enough to make me emotional. “But if nothing else, it’s taught me when something is worth holding on to.” I tighten my hold on him as if to prove my point, leaning in to let his lips brush against mine. “You’re worth holding on to, Ian.”
“So are you,” he says shakily, his lashes fluttering when I let my mouth move against his.
I keep my kisses light even as a smile touches my lips, shifting so I can crawl into his lap, straddling it as I wind my arms around his neck. “Then hold on to me.”
