Playing At Love: A Rogue Series Novel

by Lara Ward Cosio

  A sinking feeling hit him then and he almost groaned out loud. Had he missed the chance to explore something with Felicity in his rushed reunion with Colette? Now he was engaged for the second time. The commitment was something he had thought would clean up the mess his heart had made of things. But now it felt wrong and in the way.

  Jesus. How much more could he fuck things up?

  He shook his head and washed his hands over his face. No. He wasn’t going to let his desires get the better of him all over again. Colette was his fiancée and he would see through his promise to her. Building up his flirtation with Felicity into something more was ridiculous. It had to be he was just looking for an excuse to escape from finally doing the right thing. Being with Colette was the logical thing, the right thing. He would tell himself that until he was able to push Felicity out of his head.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  “Can I come up to your room?” Gavin asked. He and Sophie were on the street in front of her hotel, loitering and unsure what to do next.

  After leaving the Chinese Garden, they had spent the rest of the afternoon superficially exploring Darling Harbour. They wandered as far as the Maritime Museum at one end of the Harbour, with its white lighthouse and enormous battle ships outside the main entrance. They crossed Pyrmont Bridge and walked to the Aquarium but did not enter. They passed children’s play areas, including a mini water park where water sporadically shot up through the cement to offer relief from the heat and drew delighted squeals from toddlers. Street performers drew groups of onlookers and they stopped to join in occasionally. The time passed quickly and when the day gave way to night they had spoken of everything but the most painful of topics—Conor and the baby.

  By eight o'clock they had both admitted to being starved and they dined on an outside patio at a restaurant on King Wharf Street. The water had glowed amber, fuchsia, and blue with the reflection of the adjacent city center building lights, and once they both had a drink in hand, they sat in relaxed silence, happy to lose themselves in the view.

  Sophie watched Gavin as he looked out at the water, wondering what they were doing here. Why was she letting him into her life again, even a little, after all the damage they had done to each other? It was hard to imagine they could move beyond the hurt.

  Despite that, it was clear they still had a spark. Part of her wanted to defy all common sense and take him to her hotel room, if only for the release of sexual tension that had been building since she had gotten over the shock of seeing him again. As tempting as that thought was, however, she knew she had to think rationally about this.

  Which is why she shook her head now that he was asking to come to her room, unable to trust that she would say the word “no.”

  “I don’t want to end this night. There’s so much more I have to say.”

  “You will never run out of things to say,” she said with a tired smile.

  “That’s true. But, indulge me for a bit longer tonight? Please, darlin’?”

  “Where do you propose we go? That’s not my room?”

  “Em, I think I’ve got an idea.”

  He held out his hand and she took it.

  ~

  Gavin led Sophie to the one spot he could think of that would offer privacy without interruptions, the hotel’s rooftop pool.

  Ignoring the signs stating the pool was closed at this hour, they moved to the edge of the terrace to take in the drama of the Opera House. Each of the famous shells was lit with a soft white glow that rippled out and illuminated the surrounding dark water.

  Gavin opened his mouth to speak but they were both distracted by the flashes of light behind them. They turned to see brilliant fireworks filling the sky over Darling Harbour. Their waitress had mentioned the weekly show to them in passing, suggesting they stay after their meal to take advantage of their prime viewing location. But when a fan recognized Gavin and came to their table with a request for a photo, a series of other fans followed and their anonymity was lost. They had cut short their dinner and returned to the hotel.

  Now, the explosion of the fireworks was tamed by distance, leaving only a searing brightness of colors in the sky that was both thrilling and beautiful.

  Once the show ended, Gavin finally got up the nerve to do what he had come to Australia to do. He faced his wife and made eye contact.

  “Sophie, I want you to know that I am deeply sorry. I’m sorry I tore you down when you were trying to hold me together. I’m sorry I turned away when you needed me. I’m sorry I ran away from our marriage.”

  She took a deep breath but didn’t speak.

  “I’m sorry for how I reacted about Conor.” He flashed to the extreme reaction he had had when she admitted sleeping with his best friend. Hurt beyond all measure, he had gripped her by the shoulders too aggressively and demanded to know whether she liked fucking another man. While she cried and shook her head helplessly, he had told her she’d destroyed their relationship.

  “You had every right to be upset,” she said.

  “To be upset, yes. Not to speak to you that way.” He paused, trying to find the courage to admit more. “I see now that you turned to someone who loved you. I’m sure he treated you the way you deserved, with respect and tenderness. To be honest, I don’t know why you didn’t choose to be with him.”

  Sophie blinked back tears. “I guess you never get over your first love,” she said softly.

  Gavin smiled and touched his hand to his chest. “God knows I’m hoping that’s true, darlin’.”

  She smiled too and looked down.

  “And I’m desperately sorry about the baby,” he continued and saw her stiffen. “I didn’t understand when we first talked the full extent of what you were going through. I didn’t know it was this major surgery. And when I found out, I did try to reach you. But when you didn’t take my calls, I took the coward’s way out and let things stand. I won’t ask forgiveness for that.”

  She remained quiet, but took a small step away from him.

  He reached out and took her hand to keep her from moving too far. “Sophie, I’m so sorry you went through that alone. I hope you know I grieved, too. I felt the loss.

  “‘The Sweetest Would Be’,” she said, glancing at him.

  “Yes,” he confirmed. “It was the best way I knew how to in some way share in that sadness.”

  “It’s a heartbreakingly beautiful song.” She had heard it in much the same way as the rest of the world, by watching the viral video on YouTube.

  “I should have been with you,” he said and pulled her close. He could feel her trying to stave off tears as she breathed deeply and he tightened his embrace. Despite the intensity of the moment, he took pleasure in holding her. He had always told her they fit together, the declaration as much about their emotional compatibility as their physical connection. It was clear to him that they still fit together on both levels. He exhaled a palliative breath that felt months in the making.

  “I should go,” she said at length.

  “Must you?”

  She nodded, summoning the will to keep him at arm’s length.

  “Can I see you tomorrow?”

  “Um . . . okay. Breakfast at nine? Meet me in the lobby.” She turned quickly then, hurrying away.

  Gavin watched her go, feeling cautiously optimistic that there was hope for the two of them.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  Conor and Colette arrived to Santorini in the evening, at the tail end of a breathtaking sunset. The efficient woman at the registration desk at the Grace Hotel in the town of Imerovigli confirmed their stay in the honeymoon suite and Conor raised his eyebrows. Colette winked at him and he couldn’t help but smile. At least it was one of her more benign games.

  The suite was even more extraordinary than the one they had in Syros. Instead of being nearly on top of the water, this time they were high up the hillside with a panoramic view of Caldera, Skaros Rock, and the Aegean Sea.

  In the morning, Conor let Colette sleep l
ate in the sumptuous white sheets of the low-lying bed as he explored the surrounding area with a run. Once he found his way off the main road and onto a trail, he wound downhill through vineyards and fields of vibrant wildflowers. The trail flattened out at the bottom of the hill and continued along the sea, and he pushed his body hard against the opposing breeze and brutal heat. The entire route was only five miles but it was exactly what he needed. The effort he exuded combined with the unforgettable view did much to remedy the unease he had been feeling.

  He pushed aside the growing suspicion that he was in over his head with this commitment to Colette, and instead focused on enjoying their time away.

  They spent the day letting the warm sun bake their eager, mostly nude bodies as they lounged on their suite’s patio, chatting idly and occasionally slipping into their private plunge pool to cool off. In the late afternoon, they had outdoor massages, then sipped wine and ouzo while watching another spectacular sunset envelop the surrounding Cyclades Islands as it set fire to the sky.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  Sleep was elusive for Sophie that night as she stretched out alone in bed, wondering if she was doing the right thing with Gavin. His apology had been sincere and she could see he was aching to win her back. But she meant it when she said stepping back into their marriage seemed impossible. Whatever they would have with each other now had to be different, rather than trying to recapture their old relationship. Those two people didn’t exist anymore, and she knew that to not acknowledge how they had changed would be to their detriment.

  If that was the case, she reasoned, they should do this slowly and not succumb to easy passion. She wanted to know that he was taking seriously the effort this would require.

  Even with all this in mind, she wanted to look her best for him when they met for breakfast. She took a hot shower and then massaged a combination of lotion and baby oil into her still damp skin. She carefully dried her hair with lots of body, the style he had always favored. She dressed in a white romper made sexy by the deep v-neck that hinted at the curves of her breasts beneath a lace bra.

  Sophie made sure she didn’t leave her room until five minutes after nine o’ clock. The anticipation of waiting for her was the kind of delicious tease Gavin had always enjoyed. And she certainly didn’t want to be the one waiting for him.

  Just when she felt she might have the upper hand, she came upon a slip of paper that had been pushed through the bottom of her door. It was folded in thirds and when she opened it she saw Gavin’s handwriting, though he would later tell her the lines had been borrowed from Kafka’s letters to his married lover. As she read the words, tears came to her eyes and her heart felt too big in her chest.

  I have this vision: That I would finally come and find you. Scattered pieces of distance would not stand in my way. Not needing words; the barest of glimpses would suffice for you and me.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  The following day, Conor and Colette made their way to the Old Port of Fira, the capital of the island. It took some cajoling, but Conor convinced Colette to walk with him up the five hundred and eighty-eight Karavolades stairs so they could enjoy the views along the Caldera cliffs.

  “This is not my idea of fun,” she said with a huff after they reached the midpoint.

  They stood off to the side at one of the bends to avoid a group of tourists who were ascending the wide set stairs via overburdened but dutiful donkeys.

  Conor wrapped his arm around her shoulders from behind. “Look at that view, honey.”

  The deep blue sea spread out majestically before them, glittering under the midday sun. A warm breeze took the edge off the heat. They could see how far they had come up the steep incline, the pathway surrounded by brown mountainsides and dotted with dusty green cacti.

  “All I can see—and smell—is donkeys and the shit they leave behind.” She inspected the soles of her sandals, her nose wrinkled in distaste.

  “Jesus, rise above it, won’t you?” He let her go and moved a few feet away.

  “My feet hurt.”

  He was in running gear, but despite his urging for her to do the same, she had worn a sundress and strappy sandals that did not pair well with the uneven stones of the steps. The large floppy hat and sunglasses she wore suggested she had planned on a leisurely stroll rather than a 400-meter uphill climb.

  “We’ll rest here a minute,” he said. “Have some water.”

  She looked at his outstretched bottle of water. “It’s probably hot.”

  He raised his eyebrows. “You’re a piece of work,” he said and realized he had unwittingly used the same phrase Gavin had to describe her.

  “We should have taken the cable car. I told you I didn’t want to do this.”

  “But then you said you would. So follow through with it.”

  “You’re one to talk about following through on things.” She paused. “And don’t talk to me like I’m a child.”

  “Fuck’s sake. Let’s give it a rest for a minute.”

  He folded his arms across his chest and gazed out at the extraordinary view. He knew her petulance was coming from the fact that he had told her he wanted to delay the wedding until after the band’s tour. When he’d finally informed her that the album was complete, she had responded by trying to get him to commit to a date for the wedding. It was in the heat of the moment that he had thought of this legitimate reason to delay getting married. She had reluctantly agreed to wait, but he could see now that it had damaged their relationship.

  Still, he wasn’t willing to relent. He had gone back into their engagement so quickly that it only made sense to give their relationship some time to settle before they took the final step.

  Now, she wrapped her arms around him from behind, and he was relieved. He felt her kiss his neck and then bite his earlobe.

  “Mon cher,” she whispered as she trailed her hand down the front of his shorts. “Be my donkey and give me a ride the rest of the way.”

  He laughed and turned to face her. “Seriously?”

  “What do they call it? A piggy-back ride?”

  “You want me to carry you for two-hundred and fifty more steps?”

  “You’re strong enough.” She ran her hands over his biceps appreciatively.

  Even though he knew she was playing games with him, he was amused. It had been a lot to ask of her to make this trek with him, and he had used a tone with her as if she were a child. It was probably to his advantage to get her in a better mood and himself in better shape by letting her win this round.

  “Hop on,” he said, and she smiled triumphantly.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  A ninety-minute flight took Gavin and Sophie from Sydney to Brisbane, where they then drove by private car another ninety minutes to Christian Hale’s Sunshine Beach house.

  Christian was the lead singer of Scandal, Australia’s veteran pop-punk band. Gavin and Christian had bonded when early in their career Rogue toured in support of Scandal. Older than Gavin by ten years, he had that much more experience in the music industry and had become a natural mentor in matters both professional and personal. Gavin told Sophie over breakfast that Christian had reached out to him with an invitation for them both to visit. Christian framed it as a way the two could get a measure of privacy now that their reunion on the streets of Darling Harbour had been detailed by paparazzi and knocked the brush fires out of the lead story on local news and tabloids.

  Sophie and Gavin had spent Christmas with Christian and his wife just before Rogue reached zenith heights. She still remembered Christian warning Gavin that his world was about to be turned upside down by the band’s popularity and that he had better hold tight to what mattered. He had suggested that special thing was Sophie and if Gavin knew what was good for him, he would do everything he could to make her happy. And so she gratefully accepted his invitation now.

  Christian and his wife, Patsy, had helped design their beachfront home years before the area had become popular with tourist
s and Brisbane day-trippers. Gavin was one of the few people who knew Christian had inherited the prime land from the wealthy grandparents who had adored him. It simply wouldn’t do for Christian, an avowed supporter of the punk ideals of never selling out, being anti-establishment, and pro-equality to admit to having and enjoying such an advantage. Instead, he had always floated the story that all of Scandal’s earnings went into the purchase and upkeep of the house, with the location strictly chosen for the surf breaks five minutes north at Noosa National Park, something most Aussies could forgive. In his mind, the hypocrisy was offset by the fact that he spent as much time fighting for social justice issues as he did making music glorifying the plight of the working man.

  Though their personal style was minimalist, the house was large and made up of three stories built with unique architectural angles. The bright white exterior was broken up by sections painted cobalt blue and deep rust along with patches of stonework. The interior was an open space with high ceilings and whitewashed wood beams. The ocean-facing side of the house was constructed entirely of windows and glass doors. The couple spent a lot of time on an outdoor deck that connected seamlessly with the main living area, as it offered the comforts of a stocked bar, grill, large seating area encircling a fire pit, and ocean views. Crisp white linens wove through a wooden pergola to abate the daytime heat.