Chapter Eighty Seven

He pulled on his pants and I grabbed some shorts and a T-shirt from my room. When I came back out, Ivan handed me a cup of coffee and grabbed his cup of tea. I smiled as we settled on the sofa, facing each other, my legs hooked over his. He tugged the coffee table closer so we could reach from this position. Then he wrapped his arms around me and linked his fingers behind my back.

“Okay. Just…talk,” he said.

“Um. Okay.” I settled my fingers against the top of his stomach. The lump in my throat was the only thing stopping bile coming up—I knew it. “Well, I went to my parents’ house yesterday. I needed to get out of the city to think. Of course, my batshit crazy nana was there, so I got more of an ass-kicking than I did thinking. But anyway, she made me realize that you have to face your fears if you’re ever going to get over them. So. Here I am. Fear-facing.”

Ivan’s thumbs stroke my back gently, a