I froze, and Iggy’s hand disappeared almost instantly, like he thought he’d burned me. When I turned, he was staring at the buttons on his cardigan, fingers fussing with them the way he had at the table.
He looked off-kilter, unsteady in that quiet, brittle way I recognised all too well. Maybe he needed someone to talk to. And yeah, I had the band, I had people in my corner. But Iggy? He’d told me enough in the Willow to know his family wasn’tpart of the picture. And I doubted anyone on tour, not even Clara, knew about his recovery.
So who did he have?
Watching him now, shoulders hunched, looking like a kid expecting to be scolded, it made the guilt twist a little deeper. He was unsure how to act around me, all because I’d been avoiding him.
I turned fully towards him and reached out, placing my hand over his, and stilling his restless fingers. Just like in rehab, some part of Iggy was always moving, and it was down to me to remind him to take a breather.
“What’s up?”
His head snapped up, and the green in his eyes seemed to spark under the warm hallway lights.
“Did you want a coffee?” he blurted, immediately sucking in a breath like he wished he could drag the words back in.
I frowned. He squeezed his eyes shut, shook his head, and tried again, slower this time.
“I was wondering if you’d like to grab a coffee. With me.” The last two words were tacked on clumsily, like he was terrified I might pretend not to understand.
The problem was . . . I understood too well.
He wanted to hang out. Just like we had a thousand times in rehab. Exploring every nook and cranny of that old manor because there was nowhere else to go and nothing else to do except stay clean and stay alive. But that had been a controlled bubble. Other addicts. Counsellors. Safety nets.
This was the real world, where temptation lived on every corner and in every café and behind every bar. I didn’t trust myself out here, not really, and the last thing I wanted was to be the reason Iggy slipped.
Besides, my whole brilliant plan had been to avoid him, notstroll around the city together like some painfully nostalgic reunion.
But then he looked at me, eyes bright, lip caught nervously between his teeth, and something in my chest went soft and stupid. I wanted to go back. To whatever we’d been. To the one person who made those months feel survivable.
So, before I could think better of it, I nodded.
“Sure. Give me ten minutes to change.”
His grin spread so wide it was ridiculous. “Make it twenty and you’ve got yourself a deal.”
“I’ll meet you in the lobby.”
I turned and slipped into my room, fully aware I should be tearing myself a new one for caving so fast. For saying yes when no would’ve been safer. Smarter.
But as always, whenever Iggy smiled, that quiet voice in the back of my head told me it was worth it.
CHAPTER
FOUR
BODHI
The coffee shopIggy chose was a twenty-minute walk from the hotel. There were plenty closer by, but he insisted the fresh air would do us good, clear our heads after this morning’s near miss.
It reminded me of the Willow. When the noise got too loud or the cravings too sharp, Iggy would drag me out of whatever chair I was planted in, and I’d follow him like a loyal little duckling until we’d both calmed down.
“Café Bonbonnière.” I read the sign aloud, glancing at him. “So, what’s so special about this place?”
He twirled a pink strand of hair around his finger and tilted his head towards me. “What makes you think there’s something special?”
I raised an eyebrow. “We walked past fifty cafes and patisseries in that twenty-minute walk alone, and you didn’t give any of them a second look.”
He sighed with a dramatic eye roll, but the smile on his face made it clear he was joking. “I saw it on Instagram.”
