Realizing she was well buzzed from almost three glasses of red wine, she took a big swig of her water.
“Well?”
“I know that look of yours,” she said. “I still know you.”
“How was I looking at you?”
“Not at me, silly. I saw you looking at Felicity in that way I know so well.”
Now he looked behind himself to see who might have heard her comment. The caterers had cleaned up as much as they could and left. The others were all still at the table, drinking and chatting undisturbed.
“I don’t—”
“And I think it’s wonderful,” she said. “I think you and Felicity—”
“There is no me and Felicity,” he said quietly, urgently.
Sophie studied him for a moment. “Well, maybe you should rethink that.”
“Thanks very much, but I’m marrying Colette in a month.”
“Why such a rush?”
“That’s what she wants,” he said with a small shrug.
“She’s so in love with you she can’t bear to wait?” She gave him a teasing smile and he shook his head.
He spread his arms wide and grinned. ”What’s not to love?”
She moved closer to him. “Your best quality has always been your abundance of confidence.”
“I’ve got an abundance of all kinds of things.”
“That’s ego, Connie. Ego gets you into trouble.” She pinched his cheek playfully.
He reached up and held her hand for a moment, a small smile on his lips as he locked eyes with her.
Sophie pulled her hand away and took a step backward, conscious too late through her wine haze that they couldn’t play with each other like this. She realized that there would be moments where she would have to purposely ensure that they didn’t fall into their flirtatious old ways, no matter how innocent it was.
“Will you have Gavin as your best man?” she asked as she moved to the other side of the kitchen island.
“Have you set a date, then?” Felicity asked as she walked into the kitchen.
She had come through the pass-through doorway at the far side of the kitchen, cutting through to get back to the dining area. Conor straightened up, aware of how it might look to be found alone with Sophie.
“Em, yeah. It’s a month away. I’ve cleared the time with James. It’ll be a small ceremony. We’ll do some sort of large reception later this year during a break in the tour.”
Felicity nodded. “Well, congratulations in advance. A winter wedding should be lovely.”
Sophie felt the unease in the room and decided to play devil’s advocate. “I’ll have to help you find a date for the wedding,” she said and took Felicity’s arm in hers. “Maybe you and Stefan Grojean will hit it off? He’s that model who was pursuing me a while back.”
“The blonde fella?” Felicity asked.
“Yes. He’s blonde, tall, and gorgeous.” She pulled her friend away then, moving toward the dining room as she glanced backward at Conor.
He gave her a smirk and waved her away dismissively. Why did all the women in his life enjoy playing games with him? It was quite clear what she had been doing. And it was also clear that it had worked. He didn’t like the idea of Felicity being with anyone else.
Pushing away from the counter, he turned to go back toward the others but stopped short. The lighting in the other room combined with the windows out there made a perfect mirror to see into the kitchen. That meant that anyone seated facing the window, such as Gavin, could see exactly what was happening in there.
CHAPTER FORTY-NINE
Gavin watched Sophie return to the table, her arm linked through Felicity’s as they laughed together. He twisted his wedding ring to the left, then to the right and back to the middle again as he took this in.
His head ached with a sudden fierceness and he couldn’t hear or see anything else but his wife. She stood at the end of the table, smiling and gesturing as she spoke animatedly. And then he saw her excuse herself and leave the room.
He forced himself to breathe deeply and even tried to resist going after her. But that only lasted a few minutes, as he couldn’t stop from following her to the bedroom. She was just coming out of the adjoining bathroom and looked at him with a surprised smile as he backed her into the white tiled room, pushing the door closed behind him.
“What’s up, baby?”
“What are you doing?” he asked, his voice guttural and wounded.
She looked at him without comprehension and reached out to touch his face. He grabbed her hand and pulled it down, then quickly twisted her by the hips so she faced away from him. He couldn’t look into her eyes.
“What are you doing?” he asked again. To me. What are you doing to me? The question hadn’t left his head since he saw her flirting with Conor in the kitchen.
He grabbed her breast with one hand and in between her legs with the other, pushing his groin against her backside.
“Gavin—”
“Be quiet.” He could see her watching him in the mirror, confusion mixed with excitement. Her eyes told him she had no idea he had seen her with Conor.
He hiked up her skirt and tugged her panties down, parting and stroking her with his fingers until she became slick.
Turning her head and leaning back, she tried to kiss him but he moved his face away. She reached behind herself and pulled at the fly of his jeans and he took her hand away from him. He wanted to be the one in control. He needed to control her.
Sensing this, she relaxed her body and leaned forward over the sink countertop. Dropping his face to the back of her neck, he closed his eyes as he continued to stroke her, his fingers wet and sliding smoothly against her. He kissed and bit at her neck, bruising the sensitive skin and she tried to withhold a whimper at the mixture of pleasure and pain. He could feel her getting close as she moved her hips and pressed into him. He took his hand away from her.
“Don’t stop,” she whispered.
“You want me?” he asked and unbutton his jeans.
“Yes.”
He pushed into her with enough force to make her gasp.
She held the countertop with one hand and pressed the palm of her other hand against the wall beneath the mirror. The sound of his hips slapping against her backside made him moan and quicken his movements.
Through half-open eyes, he saw her move her hand downward. She needed that extra touch but he grabbed her hand away.
“You want me?” His breath was hot against her ear.
“Yes.”
The need in her voice was what he wanted. He reached down and gave her that release as he pushed himself deeper into her over and again until they both came.
~
Still tingling from the unexpected orgasm, Sophie slowly turned around to face Gavin. He was using a hand towel to wipe himself and didn’t look at her. She waited until he buttoned up his fly before taking his face in her hands to force eye contact.
She knew better than to say anything. He didn’t want to analyze what had happened. He didn’t want to talk at all. So, instead, she gently pressed her lips to his, kissing him with lightness and tenderness to counteract the forcefulness he had shown her. He resisted at first before then kissing her back. He wrapped his arms around her waist and held her close.
Halfway into his greedy taking of her, she realized he must have been motivated by jealousy and insecurity. She assumed that meant he saw or heard something from when she was with Conor in the kitchen. It had been stupid to engage in anything remotely close to flirting with Conor and now she was paying for it with having hurt Gavin and making him doubt her. They had made so much progress and she couldn’t stand the thought of it being undone.
“I love you,” she whispered and he held her tighter in response. “You’re the only one, Gavin. You’re the only one I love. The only one I want.”
“Fuck,” he moaned and closed his eyes tightly. “I know it’s true, darlin’. I know it.”
She pulled a
way enough to be able to look at him while she stroked the back of his head.
“Ready to kick the gang out and be done with this night?”
“No, we don’t need to cut it short. It’s been a good night overall.” He paused. “And I think I got the hardest part out of my system,” he said with a wink.
She shook her head but couldn’t help but smile. He was purposely making a joke out of what happened. He was choosing to put his hurt and jealousy and insecurity aside. To trust her. And she was so grateful that she had to blink away tears.
“How very true, Mr. McManus.” She kissed him. “Go on ahead. I need a minute.”
“Just a minute, darlin’.” He kissed her again, took a moment to wash his hands, and then stepped out of the bathroom.
Sophie turned to the mirror and examined the red patch on her neck. Gavin’s bites had left her with a hickey. She pulled her hair out of the clip it had been in and brushed it out to cover up his mark of ownership.
After freshening up, she went out and saw that the group had moved to the living area, filling the sofas and chairs around the fireplace. Gavin had put The Smiths on the sound system and was telling everyone about lead singer Morrissey being the second cousin to the famous Republic of Ireland footballer Robbie Keane.
She stood near him for a moment, watching them. Conor was sitting on one sofa, his arm casually around Colette’s neck as she tapped rapidly on her cell phone. Her friend Miranda sat to her left and was on her phone as well. Martin, Shay, Gavin, and James took up the other sofa and chairs. Felicity was seated on the floor, leaning against large pillows by the fire. The camera crew must have been dismissed.
“Keane’s the captain of the Los Angeles Galaxy team now, isn’t he, darlin’?” Gavin asked, looking up at her.
“You know I don’t know a thing about soccer.”
“Football!” All the men created a chorus as they corrected her and she laughed.
Gavin smiled at her before pulling her down onto his lap and she happily settled in with him as he moved on to his next story.
CHAPTER FIFTY
The stage was small, the lights bright. Rogue took their places during the commercial break and waited for the introduction from the show’s host, a young actress of some acclaim for her success with a mixture of romantic comedies and sober dramas. But her reputation for unreasonable demands was beginning to eclipse her actual work. The request that had gotten the most press was her recent demand that her male lead in her current film wax his chest because his “brillo-like” hairs scratched her skin. Her box office draw was sufficiently powerful that all of her requests were promptly fulfilled, so she had become accustomed to getting what she wanted.
It turned out that she was a superfan of the band and wouldn’t take no for an answer in her request to have them perform “The Sweetest Would Be.” But Rogue had no desire to cut one of the songs they were planning. She demanded at the last hour that they play three songs, rather than the customary two every other band was allotted. The producer of the show gave in, scrapping a weak skit in favor of appeasing their host.
Their first song was “I Can’t Stay Here” and after the starlet ecstatically introduced them, Gavin turned his back to the audience to look at Shay.
Shay cracked his drumsticks together in countdown and Gavin mirrored the action with a fist pump, signaling that this song was going to be played at full force. His muscular arms were exposed by the sleeveless vintage David Bowie tee-shirt he wore and he turned to the audience as he sang the rapid-fire first lines.
Sophie was watching from a discreet area to the side of the stage and smiled at the sound of women and girls in the audience screaming as Gavin faced them. He had for so many years worn his rich brown hair shaggy and longish, but after a “prank” by his drug buddies left him with a sloppily shaved head, he’d embraced a clean cut short style that had turned out to be more flattering as it allowed his blue eyes to shine. That, combined with his new level of fitness and the fact that he hadn’t really been in the public view for quite some time, had renewed his heartthrob status.
In the beat before the next refrain, Gavin gestured to the audience to get up and said, “Come on New York City, show me something!”
The crowd responded enthusiastically, jumping to their feet and staying there throughout the song. They concluded to thunderous applause and Sophie felt a sense of relief flood her body. This performance was triumphant, showcasing their excellent new music and energetic live presence. She knew that would be a huge boost for Gavin’s confidence.
~
Gavin reignited the audience’s enthusiasm during their second song, “You’ve Been Found Out.” The song hadn’t been released as a single yet, but they intended to give it as much exposure as they could during this swing across America. It was destined to be a great sing-along song as the chorus was delivered in a light and catchy arc, belying its heavy message.
Three-quarters through the song, the band dropped its tempo and Gavin got his chance to test his vocal training, belting out “darlin’, darlin’, you know you’ve been found out.” It was the kind of lyric and performance that brought the hairs up on the back of the neck.
With the closing lines of the song, Gavin wrapped his arm around Conor’s neck and sang:
So you’re free now, you’ve had your say
None of us is innocent, don’t play that way
Your amends are paid, my friend
I keep telling myself that’s true
Your amends are paid, my love
Tell me you’re true, tell me you’re true
As Conor played the last intricate guitar notes, Gavin kissed him on the cheek. Conor automatically smiled at the gesture.
“Conor Quinn, rock star,” Gavin said into the mic. “For now, just for now he’s mine, all mine.”
Conor pulled away from him then with a shake of his head. Leave it to Gavin to twist up the anguished emotions of that song, his bro-mantic kiss, and the hashtag Colette had added to the provocative Instagram photo of him.
Regardless, the audience responded with wild applause and even some howls and whistles.
~
Gavin stood alone on the small stage for this last performance, an acoustic guitar slung over his neck. The lights had mercifully been dimmed, but a spotlight still shone on him. He had changed into a soft blue and gray flannel button up shirt, cuffs folded up over a long-sleeve white tee and tucked partially into his jeans in such a way that it came off as stylish.
He leaned into the microphone and said, “This song, em, it will never be released as a single. But I do want to offer this to anyone who has ever lost something dear. It’s called ‘The Sweetest Would Be.’”
He let the natural hint of raspiness in his voice thicken as he sang this song, adding to the weight of the lyrics. And as usual, he couldn’t help but relive the emotions. His face expressed all the sadness and even the hope and challenge at the end.
Sophie watched from off stage, her eyes welling with tears. She had only ever seen the YouTube street performance of this song, so seeing him put his heart and soul into it live was heartrending. Yet it made her love him all the more. This song of grieving was such an amazing gift to not just her and what they had gone through, but also to countless others who struggled with similar experiences.
As he sang the last words, he gazed directly into the camera and it was a haunting final image of strength tested.
CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE
Santa Ana winds ensured that the Los Angeles weather delivered on its promise of perpetual sunshine and warmth, though the band didn’t get to linger in the temperate climate as they were booked with back-to-back appearances on television and radio shows. Their Saturday Night Live performance had had the intended effect of stoking interest and excitement in Rogue, and they were met with legions of fans at their publicly scheduled gigs.
They were all staying at The London West Hollywood on San Vicente Boulevard, a centrally located hotel that boasted
panoramic views of the city as well as the Hollywood Hills, especially from the roof-top pool deck, which doubled as a popular entertainment industry event space. The band’s record label planned a swanky party there to celebrate the release of Ache & Swell.
With the day’s work done, Felicity grew restless and decided a late night swim was in order. The pool deck was enclosed with glass railings, allowing Felicity an unobstructed and lit up view of downtown. The fire pits had been extinguished and though the lights in the pool still glowed, the rest of the deck was dim. Two of the blue and white cabanas on the far right side of the pool were in use by groups more interested in themselves and drinking than swimming.
The air was soft and warm on her skin as she tossed her towel on a chaise lounge. She took a deep breath and then dove into the water. As she cut through the surface and began clean, even freestyle strokes, her mind cleared from all the stresses she’d been carrying, including what to do about Richard. It had been difficult to keep from thinking about his text during the week since he had sent it. Conor’s advice of “fuck him” could only go so far. What if Richard really was questioning their breakup? Didn’t she at least owe him the chance to explore the question?
But then he sure didn’t give her any chances in the end. Instead, he coldly broke her heart and walked away. She was again grateful that she had shown the strength to leave his text unanswered.
Swimming had been her primary exercise in Toronto and she didn’t realize until now how much she missed it. It felt so good to let go that she kept swimming longer than she intended and when she finally reached for the edge of the pool she was happily out of breath.
“Thought you’d never stop.”
She jumped at the comment even though she knew at nearly the same instant whose voice it was. Conor was seated on the end of a chaise lounge, her towel in his hands. Looking around at the cabanas, she saw that they were empty. They had the pool to themselves.
Playing At Love: A Rogue Series Novel Page 24
