Gavin: Pure Passion (Hamptons Book 1)

by Taylor, Drucie Anne

Pax takes the keys and puts them in his jacket pocket. “Sure, will do.”

  I put a five-dollar bill on the table, then lean over and give him a kiss on the cheek. “See you later.”

  “See you.”

  I leave the café and walk toward the TV studio.

  “Hey, Lane,” Gavin says as I’m about to enter the down elevator.

  “Hey.”

  The doors close, and I can feel his gaze on me. “Shall we leave out the lifts?”

  “We can practice tomorrow before the show to get them in, if you want.”

  “That’s going to be too tight if we want to do something special.”

  “No, we’ll stick with the easy lifts.”

  “I checked out some dance videos on YouTube and practiced on my own since you weren’t there yesterday,” he tells me.

  “You’re good; it isn’t terrible if we leave out a day of training.”

  “I’m not good enough to get a lift right without practicing first.”

  “Sure, I think we can do that easy one no problem.”

  The doors slide open and we leave the elevator. “We need to do the fitting first, you know that, right?” I ask.

  “Yeah, I know.”

  “So let’s go.”

  We take the same direction to find the costumier. They make new costumes for every show. We all need to have them take our measurements to make sure that everything fits perfectly. When we reach the costumier, she gives us a look of relief. “I was worried you wouldn’t be coming.”

  “Why wouldn’t we?” Gavin asks. “Our dress rehearsal was postponed, that’s why we’re a bit later.”

  “Ms. Dubois, I have your costume here.” She hands me a red sequined dress with a criminally low-cut neckline, but I hardly mind. I’m used to dancing in this sort of clothing. But I know it’ll bother my parents again. I also get a white trench coat to go with our opening scene. “And here’s your costume, Mr. McLeod.” She hands him black trousers and a vest with pinstripes made of the same red sequins, and he also gets a trench coat, but a black one, and a hat in the same color. “Please try on your costumes next door, and if something doesn’t fit, give me a call and I’ll pin and alter it for you.”

  “Great,” I reply, nodding at Gavin to follow me.

  “Wow, you look stunning,” he says admiringly as soon as he lays eyes on me.

  I look down at myself. “Thanks, but I’m still missing the shoes.”

  “Here they are!” the seamstress calls. The team was chosen between seasons, and I just can’t seem to remember her name.

  “Thanks,” I say as she hands me the shoes. They’re red sandals with two-inch heels. Higher ones aren’t common with dancers because after a certain point it starts looking ridiculous.

  “Those look high,” Gavin observes.

  “They aren’t,” I counter as I slip into them. “They’re just right.”

  “So, shall we, then?”

  I nod and take the hand he offers me. I hope we do well with the rumba, or we can forget Saturday night.

  As we arrive at the studio, we’re greeted by Felix. Luckily, Gavin and I worked out a little intro together while we were practicing. I have to act the part of the abandoned lover, standing at the edge of the dance floor, crying, while he tries to cheer me up with the dance. “There you are. The song change was a bit difficult to get in, but the band managed it in the end,” Felix says.

  “Great, thanks,” Gavin answers with a smile and looks at me.

  “Let’s start again for Gavin and Madeleine!” Felix calls as we take up our positions.

  I step in front of the jury’s table and utter a fake sob before the music starts. Then I take a tissue from my coat pocket and act as though I’m wiping away my tears. Just in time for the third measure, Gavin appears next to me and cups my face in his hands. He shakes his head as I look at him and carefully pulls me out onto the dance floor. I follow him with swinging hips until he stops and opens the belt on my trench coat. He takes it off as he walks around me and throws it aside. We get right into the basic steps without the basic pose while he also takes off his coat and throws it to the other side of the dance floor. Then he grabs my hand and pulls me into the basic pose without breaking stride. I try to look more cheerful with every step while Gavin keeps looking at me in the same emotionless way. That was the plan.

  In the end we even manage the lift that we only practiced once so far, and then he sets me back on my feet, swings me around, and pulls me into an embrace. I look up at him, he tilts his head to kiss me, and I twist out of his arms. Then I run away.

  My colleagues applaud us. “That was great, Lane!” Stan, one of the professional dancers, calls.

  “Thanks!” I reply, returning with a smile. “You danced wonderfully,” I say, turning to Gavin.

  “But only because of you,” he says cheerfully. “It worked just fine without the lifts, too, don’t you think?”

  I nod at him. “Yeah, the last one was good; we should keep it that way. It will be fine.”

  “If you dance like that again tomorrow, you’ll definitely get into the next show,” Davina, one of my colleagues, tells us with conviction. “Don’t forget we’re about to rehearse the opening ensemble dance, Lane.”

  “I’m just going to get changed,” I reply and look back at Gavin. “See you tomorrow.”

  “I’ll stay and watch your dance if you don’t mind.”

  “Not at all.” I give him another smile before returning to the dressing room with Davina.

  “Jeez, that guy is so crushing on you,” she says.

  “What? Who?” I ask, taken by surprise, not having expected a conversation. She doesn’t talk much normally.

  “Gavin McLeod. He didn’t look at Julie like that.” She grins at me.

  “Oh . . . he didn’t?” Why should I tell her I had sex with Gavin? I could just as well pin it to the notice board.

  “No. He seemed rather annoyed by her, which is why it’s kind of funny that she had an accident, don’t you think?”

  I cock an eyebrow. “I find it hard to believe he planned it that way. It was an accident, because he’s really pretty insecure with lifts. We did just one because he was afraid he’d hurt me, too,” I explain to her, feeling protective of Gavin.

  “In my opinion he did it on purpose,” she replies.

  “What? Why would he do that? In my opinion, you’re wrong.”

  “Why? Do you have something going with him?” she inquires.

  I laugh out loud, and I’m glad it sounds neither artificial nor overdone. “No, should I? I only dance with him, that’s all.”

  We reach the changing room, where our costumes are hung up and ready. We each have our own dress, but I can’t find mine. “I need to find the seamstress, mine is missing.”

  “OK.”

  I go pick up my dress, and then I get changed, as well. Luckily it fits like a glove, but it’s even shorter than the one I was just wearing. It has a skirt made only from fringes, and there are more of them all over the dress.

  After we finish our group choreography, I go change, because I have another rehearsal with Jonah. I’ve been dreading it all day now, and I have no idea how I’ll survive tomorrow. Although he whispers words of encouragement as we’re standing on the dance floor together, even that won’t work. What’s even worse, though, is that we already have quite an audience. My colleagues, the candidates, and the team are all sitting in the bleachers together, watching our steps, lifts, and spins. We’ve decided on a mix of slow fox-trot, which is usually just called fox-trot, and ballet. It’s extraordinary, but so was Brooke. From the spin I move into a classic ballet pose. It’s supposed to show how a “normal” dancer seduces a ballerina. Again and again he pulls me out of the pose and leads me across the dance floor. My gown is light blue and knee length in front, but full length in the back. I have to pay attention that I don’t step on the fabric and fall.

  With the last measure, he turns me around again and lays me down on the
floor, where I lift my arm to my face and act as though I need to think it over again. The slow fox-trot is the most difficult of the ballroom dance steps, which is why I’m pretty glad that we’ve mastered that transition between the two styles.

  I’m the last one left in the changing room. My colleagues have already gone, but I need a little time to myself. Jonah has already stopped by to ask if I want a ride home, but I said no. I’ll walk. It’s only a few blocks, and I need the fresh air.

  I pick up my sports bag and return the costumes to the seamstress. Tomorrow we’ll get even more accessories, jewelry, scarves, all kinds of stuff, although I’ve never cared for it much.

  Then I go outside, where Gavin is standing with Alexis and Linden. “See you tomorrow,” I tell them quietly. I’ve been crying again. A year ago, this was still Brooke’s stage. She won last season with actor Russell Conners. Someday I’m going to rip him a new one, because in the end, what happened to Brooke was his fault. He could have published a press release stating that the picture was taken in a completely harmless situation and defused all the mobbing, but no, he never deemed it necessary.

  As I step out into the rain, I hear someone say my name. I turn around to the three of them. “Yes?”

  “Can I bring you home? That way at least you won’t get wet,” Gavin says.

  “I’m already wet,” I reply, pulling my hood lower over my face.

  He comes over to me. It’s raining so hard that his hair is sopping wet within seconds. “Please, you look like you need somebody to talk to. Let me be there for you.”

  “Aren’t you riding with your friends?”

  Gavin looks over his shoulder, then back at me. “Linden and Alexis asked if I’d go have a drink with them, but I don’t feel like it. We were just chatting a little before you came.”

  “Right.”

  “You coming?” He holds out his hand.

  I take a deep breath, then I take his hand and let him lead me over to his car.

  “We’re off, Gavin. Azer and Mike are waiting at the bar,” Linden says. “It was good to see you, Lane.”

  I give him a smile. “Same here.”

  “See you later, man,” Gavin says, giving both of them a handshake and brief guy-hug. As soon as I’m sitting, he closes the door and walks around the car. “Straight home?”

  “Uh-huh.” I nod and fasten my seat belt.

  “Your dance with Jonah . . . It was really good. I mean, I knew you were good, but I had no idea you were so gifted,” he praises me.

  “Thanks,” I reply quietly, pushing the hood back from my face.

  “It seems like you’re not doing too well right now,” he murmurs.

  “I don’t feel particularly great, but it doesn’t matter.”

  Gavin takes off, threading into traffic at the next intersection. “Should we drive somewhere we can talk in peace?”

  “I . . . I don’t know. It’s late, and I get up pretty early tomorrow.”

  He sighs and nods. “OK.” Then he turns on the radio.

  “There has been an accident on Fifth Avenue, and traffic has become congested, and shows no sign of moving soon,” the automatic traffic report announces.

  “We need to go via Fifth to get to your place,” Gavin says.

  “Let’s go have a drink instead.” I give him a shy smile.

  “Or you can come to my place. I still have the same suite I had two weeks ago. It has two bedrooms. You could sleep there if you’d like, and I’ll bring you home tomorrow morning.”

  “I don’t mind coming over for a drink, but Pax is at my place. I’d rather not leave him there on his own, especially since I don’t know if Macey’s home or not.”

  “Can’t you give him a call?”

  “I could, but I really don’t want to leave him alone, it would be rude after inviting him.”

  “Then at least call him so he knows you’ll be later because of the traffic jam.”

  I take out my phone, wondering if going to Gavin’s suite is a good idea.

  Chapter 11

  We enter the suite. Gavin hasn’t touched me again since he led me to his car.

  “Can I take your jacket?” he offers.

  I take it off and hand it to him so he can hang it up.

  “Would you like a shower or a bath to warm up?”

  “All I want is to get out of these wet clothes. Can I use your bathroom?” I ask quietly.

  “Sure, you know where it is.”

  I walk into the bathroom and lock the door behind me, although I doubt that Gavin would follow me. It would be nice if he could just hold me tight now, but what I need most is some peace and quiet. Although I’d love to tell him that I changed my mind. Thanks to Pax! I’d give Gavin a chance in the blink of an eye if he wants it, but I’m afraid I won’t be able to love him the way he deserves. It would always be hard for us, since Gavin has so many fans who worship him. But he still wants me. I’m that one girl in a million who didn’t even know him until he introduced himself, and still Gavin McLeod wants me!

  I strip off my wet clothing and dry off. Then I pull on my sports clothes. I hope I don’t catch a cold. Maybe I really should take a hot shower. Sighing, I take off my clothes and step into the booth.

  When I enter the living room, Gavin is sitting in an armchair reading. He looks really great, all dreamy and concentrating like that. His gaze is stuck to the pages while he holds the book as if it were infinitely precious. He doesn’t even see me.

  I tiptoe over to the couch and sit down, watching him intently.

  “Can I get you something?” he asks without looking up at me.

  “How did you know I was here?”

  He lifts his eyes and smiles at me. “Just because I’m reading doesn’t mean I’m in space, Lane. I heard you.”

  I nod slowly. “Right.” Then I utter a sigh. “No thanks, I’m good.”

  “Sure?”

  “Yeah, thanks.”

  He gets up and lays the book down on the chair. “How are you feeling?”

  I lift my head to look at him. “Better.”

  I see the corners of his mouth twitching, and then he points toward the bathroom. “Do you mind if I shower?”

  I smile at him with glowing cheeks. “Not at all.”

  “I’ll be right back,” he replies cheerfully. “Then I can drive you home.”

  “Thanks, Gavin.”

  After he leaves the room, I lean back into the sofa. I’m so tired and exhausted from today that I can hardly keep my eyes open. I lie down and turn over onto my side, and then I give in.

  Footsteps, then a muffled sound, and I’m awake. When I open my eyes, I can see Gavin sitting on the floor in front of me, leaning his back on the couch. He’s reading his book again.

  “What are you reading, anyway?” I ask curiously.

  He gives a slight start. “Uh . . . a book, I guess?”

  Long live sarcasm! “What kind of book?” I push.

  “Dracula by . . .”

  “Bram Stoker?”

  “Exactly.”

  “Are you done with your friend’s book yet?” I ask.

  “Yeah, I am.”

  “What did you think of it?”

  “It was a bit too sex-heavy for me, although I enjoyed the backstory, and it really is interesting.”

  “Do you know yet when and where it’s going to be released?” I ask.

  He shakes his head with a smile. “It’s going to be released, but I can’t tell you when, either.”

  “What’s the title going to be?”

  He laughs at my question. “No idea.”

  “Can you keep me updated? I’m really excited about this book,” I admit sheepishly.

  “Will do,” he replies, turning a page.

  “Have you been reading all through our conversation?” I inquire, irritated. “I’m not that good at multitasking.”

  “It’s not just women who can do it,” he retorts.

  “Isn’t that something,” I utter in sur
prise.

  “No, seriously. I ended up getting used to it since people constantly want something from me.”

  I lay my hand on his shoulder, stroking him slowly. He tenses at first, but he relaxes again after a few breaths, and he puts his hand on mine. I lean in and kiss his cheek. I want to show him what he means to me.

  “Don’t do this to me again, Madeleine,” he whispers roughly.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be, but you’ve dropped me often enough now, and I’d like that to stop.”

  “It will,” I whisper into his ear, and then I pull back again.

  Gavin doesn’t budge, only his hand grabs mine tightly, until he suddenly pulls me down over his shoulder into a hug. “I really get a chance?”

  I nod slowly. “Yes, but . . . please give me some time to get used to it.”

  “However much you want and need.” Gavin gives me a light kiss on the forehead.

  I cuddle up to him closely and close my eyes. “I’m pretty complicated.”

  “I’m no ordinary guy, either, Lane, but we’ll figure it out somehow.”

  “I have fears you’ve probably never even heard of. And boy, do I have problems.”

  “Come on, Lane. You’re an absolutely wonderful person and quite a prize; don’t pick on yourself like that.”

  “OK,” I whisper and lay my head on his shoulder. “I’ll try.”

  He keeps stroking my back with his thumb while constantly placing little kisses on my forehead, my nose, and the corners of my mouth. “You do know that I’ll be even harder to get rid of now, right?”

  “Oh, darn,” I pretend to groan.

  “I’m sorry?”

  Then I start to giggle, trying to get away from his hands, which are trying to tickle me. “I was only joking.” I grab Gavin’s wrists, still trying to push him away. Finally he stops.

  He pulls one hand out of my grip and touches my neck. Then he leans in, kissing me gently. “Please stay with me tonight . . . Not because I want sex, I really just want to hold you,” he murmurs, and his lips caress mine with every word.

  “Would you read to me?” I ask quietly.

  “From Dracula?”

  “You could read Mad magazine to me and I’d probably love it,” I answer with a grin. Now I’m the one to give him a gentle kiss.