Entwined With You

by Sylvia Day

  “So … I skip right over making it on my own? Am I always going to live off someone else?”

  “For fuck’s sake.” He made a frustrated noise. “Would you feel better if we shared the rent?”

  “Ha! Like I could afford your penthouse, even paying just a third of it. And there’s no way Cary could.”

  “So we’ll move in here or next door, if you want, and take over the lease. I don’t care where, Eva.”

  I stared at him, wanting what he was offering but afraid I’d miss a big pitfall that would hurt us.

  “You came to me as soon as you got up this morning,” he pointed out. “You don’t like being away from me, either. Why torture ourselves? Sharing the same space should be the least of our problems.”

  “I don’t want to screw this up,” I told him, my fingers brushing over his chest. “I need us to work, Gideon.”

  He caught my hand and pressed it over his heart. “I need us to work, too, angel. And I want mornings like this and nights like last night while we do it.”

  “No one even knows we’re seeing each other. How do we go from being broken up to living together?”

  “We start today. You’re taking Cary with you to the video launch. I’ll come up to the both of you with Ireland, say hi—”

  “She called me,” I interrupted, “and told me to go up to you. She wants us to get back together.”

  “She’s a smart girl.” He smiled and I felt a little thrill at the thought that he might be opening up to her. “So one of us will approach the other, make small talk, and I’ll say hi to Cary. You and I won’t have to fake the attraction between us. Tomorrow, I’ll take you out to lunch. Bryant Park Grill would be ideal. We’ll make a show of it.”

  It all sounded wonderful and easy, but … “Is it safe?”

  “Finding Nathan’s bracelet on a criminal’s corpse opens the door to reasonable doubt. That’s all we need.”

  We looked at each other, sharing the feeling of hope, the sense of excitement and expectation in a future that had seemed so much more uncertain just yesterday.

  He touched my cheek. “You made a reservation at Tableau One for tonight.”

  I nodded. “Yeah, I had to use your name to get on the list, but Brett asked me out to dinner and I wanted us to go to a place connected with you.”

  “Ireland and I have a reservation at the same time. We’ll join you.”

  I shifted awkwardly, nervous at the thought, and Gideon thickened inside me. “Uh …”

  “Don’t worry,” he murmured, his focus clearly shifting to more heated thoughts. “It’ll be fun.”

  “Yeah, right.”

  Banding his arms around my hips and shoulder blades, Gideon scooped me up and moved, rolling and putting me beneath him. “Trust me.”

  I was going to reply, but he kissed me quiet and fucked me senseless.

  I showered and dressed at Gideon’s, then hurried back down the hallway to my apartment for my purse and bag, trying not to look like I was sneaking around. It was easy to get ready at Gideon’s apartment, since he’d stocked the bathroom with all my usual toiletries and cosmetics, and had purchased enough clothes and underwear for me to never have to wear anything from my own closet.

  It was too much, but that was the way he was.

  I was rinsing off the mug I’d used for a quick cup of coffee when Trey came into the kitchen.

  He smiled sheepishly. Dressed in a pair of Cary’s sweats and his own shirt from last night, he looked right at home. “Good morning.”

  “Back atcha.” I put the mug in the dishwasher and faced him. “I’m glad you came to dinner.”

  “Me, too. I had fun.”

  “Coffee?” I asked him.

  “Please. I have to get ready for work, but I’m dragging.”

  “I’ve had those days.” I fixed him a cup and slid it over.

  He took the mug and lifted it in a salute of thanks. “Can I ask you something?”

  “Shoot.”

  “Do you like Tatiana, too? Is it weird for you, having us both around?”

  I shrugged. “I don’t really know Tatiana, to be honest. She doesn’t hang with Cary and me the way you do.”

  “Oh.”

  I started heading out and squeezed his shoulder before I passed him. “Have a good one.”

  “You, too.”

  I checked my phone while taking a cab to work. I almost wished I’d walked, since the cabbie kept the front windows down and was apparently averse to wearing deodorant. The only saving grace was that it was faster than walking.

  There was a text from Brett sent around six in the morning: On the ground. Can’t wait to c u 2nite!

  I sent him back a smiley face.

  Megumi looked good when I met up with her at work, which made me happy, but Will was looking glum. As I was putting my purse in a drawer, he stopped by my cubicle and rested his crossed arms along the low wall.

  “What’s the matter?” I asked him, looking up at him from my chair.

  “Help. Need carbs.”

  Laughing, I shook my head. “I think it’s sweet that you’re suffering through this diet for your girl.”

  “I shouldn’t complain,” he said. “She’s lost like five pounds—that I didn’t think she had to lose, mind you—and she looks amazing and has all this energy. But God … I feel like a slug. My body’s not built for this.”

  “Are you asking me out to lunch?”

  “Please.” He clasped his hands together like he was praying. “You’re one of the few women I know who actually enjoys eating.”

  “I’ve got the butt to show for it, too,” I said ruefully. “But sure. I’m game.”

  “You’re the best, Eva.” He backed up and bumped into Mark. “Oops. Sorry.”

  Mark grinned. “No problem.”

  Will headed back to his cubicle and Mark turned his smile to me.

  “We’ve got the Drysdel team coming in at nine thirty,” I reminded him.

  “Right. And I’ve got an idea I’d like to run past strategy before they get here.”

  I grabbed my tablet and stood, thinking we’d be running down to the wire. “You’re living on the edge, boss.”

  “Only way to do it. Come on.”

  The day flew by and I rushed full-bore all through it, filled with restless energy. Getting up so early, then eating a plate of pierogi for lunch, didn’t slow me down.

  I wrapped up exactly at five and did a quick change in the bathroom, switching from my skirt and blouse into a more casual jersey dress in pale blue. I slipped on a pair of wedge sandals, swapped out my diamond studs for silver hoops, and turned my ponytail into a messy bun. Then I headed down to the lobby.

  As I moved toward the revolving entrance door, I saw Cary standing outside on the sidewalk talking to Brett. I slowed, giving myself a minute to absorb the sight of my old flame.

  Brett’s short-cropped hair was naturally dark blond, but he’d had the tips dyed platinum and the look was a good one for him, with his tanned skin and irises of a beautiful emerald green. On stage he was usually shirtless, but today he was dressed in black cargo pants and bloodred T-shirt, his arms covered in sleeves of tattoos that writhed over his muscles.

  He turned his head then, looking inside the lobby, and I started walking again, my stomach fluttering a little when he caught sight of me, and his ruggedly handsome face was softened by a smile that revealed a killer dimple.

  Jesus, he was sexy as hell.

  Feeling a little too exposed, I pulled out my sunglasses and slipped them on. Then I took a deep breath as I spun through the revolving doors, my gaze shifting to the Bentley parked just behind Brett’s limo.

  Brett whistled. “Damn, Eva. You’re more gorgeous every time I see you.”

  I shot a strained smile at Cary, my pulse racing madly. “Hey.”

  “You look great, baby girl,” he said, reaching for my hand.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Angus step out of the Bentley. In that moment of di
straction, I totally missed Brett reaching for me. A split second after I registered his hands at my waist, I realized he was going to kiss me and barely turned my head in time. His lips touched the corner of my mouth, feeling warm and familiar. I stumbled back, tripping over Cary, who caught me by the shoulders.

  Flushed with embarrassment and disoriented, I looked anywhere but at Brett.

  And found myself looking into the icy blue eyes of Gideon.

  16

  STANDING FROZEN JUST outside the revolving doors of the Crossfire, Gideon stared at me with such intensity I squirmed.

  Sorry, I mouthed, feeling awful, knowing how I would’ve felt if Corinne had gotten her lips on him the other day.

  “Hi,” Brett greeted me, too focused on me to pay attention to the dark figure standing with his fists and jaw clenched just a few feet away.

  “Hey.” I could feel Gideon watching me, and it was painful not to go to him. “Ready?”

  Without waiting for the guys, I yanked the limo door open and crawled in. I’d barely gotten my ass on the seat when I pulled the burner phone out of my purse and sent a quick text to Gideon: I love you.

  Brett settled on the bench seat beside me, and then Cary slid in.

  “I’ve been seeing your pretty mug everywhere, man,” Brett said, talking to Cary.

  “Yeah.” Cary shot me a crooked smile. He looked great in distressed jeans and designer T-shirt, with leather cuffs on his wrists that matched his boots.

  “Did the rest of the band fly in with you?” I asked.

  “Yep, they’re all here.” Brett flashed that dimple at me again. “Darrin crashed the minute we got to the hotel.”

  “I don’t know how he drums for hours. It’s exhausting just watching.”

  “When you’re high off the rush of being on stage, energy isn’t a problem.”

  “How’s Erik?” Cary asked with more than casual interest, making me wonder—not for the first time—if he and the band’s bassist had ever hooked up. As far as I knew, Erik was straight, but there had been little signs here and there that made me think he might have experimented a little with my best friend.

  “Erik’s dealing with some issues that have come up on the tour,” Brett replied. “And Lance hooked up with a girl he met when we were in New York the last time. You’ll be seeing them all in a few minutes.”

  “The life of a rock star,” I teased.

  Brett shrugged and smiled.

  I looked away, regretting my decision to bring Cary along. Because having him there meant I couldn’t say what I needed to say to Brett—that I was in love with someone else and there was no hope for us.

  A relationship with Brett would be entirely different from what I had with Gideon. I’d have had a lot of time on my own while he was on tour. I could do all the things I thought I should do before settling down—living by my own means and spending time unattached with friends and by myself. Kind of the best of both worlds: having a boyfriend but enjoying plenty of individuality.

  But although I was worried about jumping from college into a lifetime commitment, I had no doubts that Gideon was the man I wanted. We were just out of sync with our timing—I thought there was no reason to rush, while he thought there was no reason to wait.

  “We’re here,” Brett said, looking out the window at the crowd.

  Despite the muggy heat of the day, Times Square was packed as usual. The ruby-red glass stairs in Duffy Square were full of people taking pictures of each other, and pedestrian traffic clogged the overflowing sidewalks. Police officers dotted the corners, keeping a sharp eye out for trouble. Street performers outshouted each other, and the smells emanating from food carts competed with the much less savory smell of the street itself.

  Massive electronic billboards plastered on the sides of buildings fought for attention, including one of Cary with a female model wrapped around him from behind. Cameramen and boom operators loitered around a mobile video screen, which was attached to a traveling platform and positioned in front of the bleacherlike stair seating.

  Brett climbed out of the limo first and was immediately bombarded by the excited screams of avid fans—most were female. He flashed that killer smile and waved, then reached in a hand to help me out. My reception was much less warm, especially after Brett put his arm around my waist. Cary’s appearance, however, started a hum of murmurs. When he slipped on a pair of shades, he elicited his own swell of excited yells and catcalls.

  I was overwhelmed by the sensory input but quickly focused when I spotted Christopher Vidal Jr. talking with the host of an entertainment gossip show. Gideon’s brother was dressed for business in shirt, tie, and navy slacks. His dark auburn hair caught the eye even in the early evening shade cast by the towering buildings surrounding us. He waved when he caught sight of me, which turned the host’s gaze to me as well. I waved back.

  The rest of Six-Ninths stood in front of the bleachers signing autographs, clearly enjoying the attention. I looked at Brett. “Go do your thing.”

  “Yeah?” He studied me, trying to make sure I was okay with him abandoning me.

  “Yeah.” I waved him off. “This is for you. Enjoy it. I’ll be here when it’s time for the show.”

  “Okay.” He smiled. “Don’t go anywhere.”

  He bounded off. Cary and I walked over to the tent bearing the Vidal Records logo. Protected from the crowds by private security, it was a tiny oasis in the madness of Times Square.

  “Well, baby girl, you’ve got your hands full with him. I forgot how it was with you two.”

  “Was being the operative word,” I pointed out.

  “He’s different from before,” he went on. “More … settled.”

  “That’s great for him. Especially with all that’s going on in his life right now.”

  He scoped me out. “Aren’t you even the slightest bit interested in seeing if he can still bang you brainless?”

  I shot him a look. “Chemistry is chemistry. And I’m sure he’s had plenty of chances to bone up on his already fabulous skills.”

  “Bone up, ha! That’s punny.” He waggled his brows at me. “You seem solid.”

  “Ah, now that would be an illusion.”

  “Well, look who’s here,” he murmured, turning my attention to Gideon, who was approaching with Ireland at his side. “And heading straight toward us. If there’s a brawl over you, I’m watching from the bleachers.”

  I shoved at him. “Thanks.”

  It amazed me that Gideon could look so cool in his suit when it was still so hot. Ireland looked fantastic in a low-rise flared skirt and tummy-baring fitted tank top.

  “Eva!” she shouted, running over and leaving her brother behind. She met me with a hug, then pulled back to check me out. “Awesome! He’s got to be kicking himself.”

  I looked around her at Gideon, searching his face for any signs that he was pissed about Brett. Ireland turned and hugged Cary, too, surprising him. In the meantime, Gideon walked straight up to me, grabbed me gently by the upper arms, and kissed both of my cheeks French style.

  “Hello, Eva.” His voice was flavored with a soft rasp that had my toes curling. “It’s good to see you.”

  I blinked up at him, not having to fake my astonishment at all. “Uh, hi. Gideon.”

  “Doesn’t she look delish?” Ireland asked, making no attempt at subtlety.

  Gideon’s eyes never left my face. “She always does. I need a minute of your time, Eva.”

  “Sure.” I shot a what-the-fuck look at Cary and let Gideon lead me to a corner of the tent. We’d taken a few steps when I said, “Are you mad? Please don’t be.”

  “Of course I am,” he said evenly. “But not at you or him.”

  “O-kay.” I had no idea what that meant.

  He stopped and faced me, raking a hand through his gorgeous hair. “This situation is intolerable. I could stand it when there was no other choice, but now …” His gaze was fierce on my face. “You’re mine. I need the world to know that.�
�

  “I’ve told Brett that I’m in love with you. Cary, too. My dad. Megumi. I’ve never lied about how I feel about you.”

  “Eva!” Christopher came up to me and pulled me into him for a kiss on the cheek. “I’m so glad Brett brought you. You know, I had no idea you two used to be an item.”

  I managed a smile, hyperaware of Gideon’s gaze. “It was a long time ago.”

  “Not that long.” He grinned. “You’re here, aren’t you?”

  “Christopher,” Gideon said, by way of greeting.

  “Gideon.” Christopher’s smile didn’t waver, but he noticeably cooled. “You didn’t have to come. I’ve got this covered.”

  They were half brothers but had so little in common physically. Gideon was taller, bigger, and undeniably dark in both coloring and demeanor. Christopher was a handsome man with a sexy smile, but he had none of Gideon’s sizzling magnetism.

  “I’m here for Eva,” Gideon said smoothly, “not the show.”

  “Really?” Christopher looked at me. “I thought you and Brett were working things out.”

  “Brett’s a friend,” I replied.

  “Eva’s personal life is none of your business,” Gideon said.

  “It shouldn’t be yours, either.” Christopher looked at him with such hostility it made me uncomfortable. “The fact that ‘Golden’ is a true story, and that Brett and Eva are here together, is a great marketing angle for Vidal and the band.”

  “The song is the end of that story.”

  Christopher frowned and reached into his pocket, pulling out his smartphone. He read the screen, then scowled at his brother. “Call Corinne, will you? She’s going nuts trying to reach you.”

  “I talked to her an hour ago,” Gideon said.

  “Stop giving her mixed signals,” Christopher snapped. “If you didn’t want to talk to her, you shouldn’t have gone over to her place last night.”

  I tensed, my pulse leaping. I looked at Gideon, saw his jaw tighten, and remembered how I’d waited for a reply text from him. He’d been at my place when I got home, but he’d never explained why he hadn’t texted me back. He certainly hadn’t said anything about going to Corinne’s apartment.

  And hadn’t he said he wasn’t taking her calls?