by Wells, Nicky
Sophie's Run
Title Page
PART ONE:
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
PART TWO:
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
PART THREE:
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
PART FOUR:
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-One
Chapter Forty-Two
Chapter Forty-Three
Chapter Forty-Four
Chapter Forty-Five
Chapter Forty-Six
Chapter Forty-Seven
Chapter Forty-Eight
PART FIVE:
Chapter Forty-Nine
Chapter Fifty
Chapter Fifty-One
Chapter Fifty-Two
Chapter Fifty-Three
Chapter Fifty-Four
Chapter Fifty-Five
Chapter Fifty-Six
Chapter Fifty-Seven
Chapter Fifty-Eight
Chapter Fifty-Nine
Epilogue
About the Author
Praise
“Sophie’s Run goes far beyond any expectations I had set. I did not want this story to end! Once again, the story was phenomenal, full of bits and pieces that add depth to an already delightful, hard-to-put-down story. I just plain LOVE it all!”
~Nova Reylin
“Sophie’s Run is a rollercoaster of emotions that draws you in and leaves you hanging for the 3rdbook! If I could, I would go higher than 5 baskets! Seriously! I enjoyed Sophie’s Turn but Sophie’s Run has surpassed it in my eyes!”
~Tobi Helton
“It’s always interesting when a sequel is launched following a brilliant debut. Did it live up to the first? OMG—it so did! I got so lost in this delightful, delicious story, that I had to keep telling myself that I wasn't Sophie! I love Nicky's writing style, so natural, and so funny as well as warm, romantic and adorable and you are kept guessing till the end. If the third one in the series was ready, I would have picked it up right away and devoured that one too! What will I do when this series finishes? I have no idea!”
~Kim Nash
“I was thoroughly drawn in to the continuing escapades of Sophie Penhalligan. Will the alluring rock star win her back, or did she just meet the true love of her life? I was almost as eager as Sophie to find out! Endearing, warm, and funny, Sophie’s Run is an utter delight!”
~Bonnie Trachtenberg, author of Neurotically Yours
Nicky Wells
Sophie’s Run
Part 2 in the Rock Star Romance Trilogy
Copyright © 2012 Nicky Wells
This ebook belongs to vzyl at 64 70 67 72 6f 75 70 forum. The name vzyl refers to an entity and not any registered user with the same name.
Sapphire Star Publishing
www.sapphirestarpublishing.com
First Sapphire Star Publishing trade ebook edition, February 2013
The characters and events in this book are fictitious. Names, characters, places, and plots are a product of the author’s imagination. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
ISBN-13: 978-1-938404-48-1
Cover design: Chad Lichtenhan
Cover image: Holbox
Author photograph by Deborah Smith
www.sapphirestarpublishing.com/nickywells
Dedication
For my Mum.
Because you never, ever once doubted that I would write all my books, one day.
PART ONE:
UP IN THE AIR
Prologue
The ferry bumped gently against the pier, and I took a deep breath to steady my jangling nerves. I was here.
I arrived on this tiny, car-free island in the remote German North Sea, and I was all alone. It was strangely thrilling to think that no one knew where I was. No one was expecting me. I had made no arrangements for my stay. In fact, I didn’t even know where I would sleep, but that was fine. It suited my mood. I wanted a clean break, a fresh start. No links to the past, no connections to the mess that I left behind.
Just briefly, I wondered whether Steve would notice that I was gone. Steve, who I had thought was definitely the one. Would he even care, after everything that had happened? And what about my best-friend-in-the-whole-world, Rachel? Or Dan, for that matter, my other best friend, singer and rock star extraordinaire, who also doubled as my ex-fiancé —well, one of my ex-fiancés, actually. Would he notice I had run away?
While I waited for the ferry to finish docking, I drank in every detail of my chosen exile. The calm sea with little white-crested waves lapping gently against the quay. The green and white of the sandy dunes standing stark and fresh against the wide-open, deep-blue sky. The tiny harbor with only a handful of buildings and a few fishing boats bobbing on the incoming tide. Seagulls wheeling overhead, their mournful cries carrying on the gentle breeze, augmenting my sense of emptiness, newness. Fresh, clean, salty air. I took another deep breath, feeling calmer already.
Yes, I had done the right thing. I had come to the right place. Here, I would find the space and the peace to think things through. I would figure it all out, everything that had happened, and a few things that hadn’t. And I would put my life back together.
Chapter One
“Sanctus, sanctus dominus…” I hummed under my breath as I walked up to the church from South Kensington Tube Station. “Pleni sunt coeli…”
I was lost in the music and my heart soared. The thought of taking part in tonight’s impending choir concert—my second—was intoxicating and terrifying at the same time. Normally a rock-chick at heart, I had found a second musical home in the small choral group that I had joined on an impulse a few months ago.
I hurried my step, knowing that the orchestral rehearsal was due to begin and berating myself for being late. Why was I always late? I couldn’t even blame the Tube on this occasion. Although I could blame Dan Hunter, lead singer of legendary rock band Tuscq and, owing to a complicated set of circumstances, one of my closest friends. He had called me at Read London, the newspaper where I worked as a deputy-editor, just seconds before I was due to leave.
“Sophie,” he had drawled down the line as he always did. “Is it still okay if the band and I come to see your show tonight?”
I had giggled. He might be a rock god, but he didn’t quite ‘get’ the classical scene. “I would love it if you came to the concert tonight,” I had responded, swallowing butterflies of excitement. Singing was one thing; knowing you had a friend in the audience was another.
“Great. Looking forward to it. It’ll totally rock, I’m sure.” His enthusias
m was overwhelming. I sincerely hoped he had checked out Fauré’s Requiem beforehand so that he knew what was coming.
“It will,” I had concurred weakly. “In a manner of speaking.”
“See you after the show?” Dan was keen to verify this point.
“That would be lovely.” I nodded my head even though he couldn’t see me. “Oh and—” I shouted before he could hang up.
“Yes?”
“Don’t forget Rachel and Jordan are meeting us there, too.”
“Excellent.” Dan sounded genuinely delighted; he had always liked my spiky, sparky, colorful best friend and partner-in-writing at Read London. He wasn’t quite so keen on her boyfriend, soon-to-be-husband, although he couldn’t explain why.
Hence, by the time I left the office, I was running late. I would have to hurry to get to the church where we would perform and…
“Oomph!”
I tripped over a paving stone and launched myself missile-style at a passing couple. The man caught me by the arm, but I still dropped my handbag and music. I bent down to retrieve my scattered belongings, muttering apologies all the while. “So sorry,” I panted. “All my fault, I was totally lost in thought and…”
The words died on my lips as I straightened up and faced my rescuer.
Tim. With Dina.
Dina beamed at me delightedly. “Sophie! So good to see you. How’ve you been? And are you all right?” She took my arm gently and inspected me for any damage. Tim said nothing, but his face had turned into an icy mask.
“Dina, hi!” I returned her greeting uncertainly. “And Tim!” I addressed my ex-fiancé. Squirming with discomfort, I didn’t quite know where to look. I forced myself to meet his eyes, which flashed with contempt.
“How are you?” My determinedly cheerful question didn’t yield a response. Dina stepped in quickly.
“We’re fine,” she buzzed. “We’re engaged and…” She waggled her ring finger bearing an enormous engagement ring in my face. It was certainly bigger and flashier than the one Tim had given me, and I gasped in awe.
“That’s so beautiful,” I exclaimed before I could help myself. “Congratulations! When’s the big day?”
Dina opened her mouth to speak, but Tim finally woke from his trance and took his fiancée roughly by the arm. “Nice seeing you but we must be off,” he barked, and pulled Dina onwards.
“Ouch,” I muttered to myself, temporarily rooted to the spot. Tim was clearly still bearing a grudge but I couldn’t blame him, really. I had ended our relationship in unusual circumstances, having returned from a three-week tour of Europe with Tuscq and having fielded and declined a proposal of marriage from Dan Hunter himself. I had tried to explain to Tim that I was leaving him because we weren’t making each other happy, but he had focused entirely, and quite mistakenly, on the Dan angle. Nonetheless, it didn’t take you long to get it back together with Dina, I mentally told him off. You started dating her mere weeks after we broke up. So you couldn’t have been that heartbroken.
Shaking myself out of my stupor, I glanced at my watch and broke into a run. Now I really was late!
The orchestra had finished tuning and the dress rehearsal was in full swing by the time I finally crashed through the church doors. I slowed my step and prayed that my heart rate would slow down, too, while I carefully tiptoed down the aisle to find my place in the choir stalls. Mouthing an apology at the choir director, I tried to make myself invisible as I crept past her and squeezed myself into the end of a pew. I opened my folder of sheet music and told myself to focus. Yet I appeared to be in the grip of a delayed stress reaction; I started to shake so badly that the music slipped right out of my grip and fluttered prettily to the floor. When did I become so clumsy?
“Don’t be nervous,” my pew neighbor whispered to me. “You’ll be fine.”
I smiled wanly at her and bent down to retrieve the sheets of paper, bumping my head against the pew and momentarily seeing stars. Great. At this rate, I wouldn’t make it through the concert.
Breathe, Sophie, breathe.
Rehearsal finished with me barely noticing it had taken place. It was only a short twenty-minute break before the actual concert would begin. Most of the singers disappeared from the choir stalls, grabbing a drink or catching up with friends as the audience began to arrive. I simply remained in my seat, staring vacantly into space. My heart was still beating fast, and I had a strange sensation of heightened awareness. Every noise, every sound was amplified tenfold, and everything I saw appeared to be overly sharp, overly bright, extremely clear. I wondered if that was how Dan felt before he went on stage.
All too quickly, the orchestra musicians returned to their places and re-tuned their instruments. The high-pitched whining of violin strings being adjusted hung in the air and tugged at my nerves. I looked away from the audience and instead examined the intricate carvings in the woodwork of the choir stalls facing me, currently filling with basses.
I watched with wry detachment as they all sat down and took their music, readying themselves for the beginning of the concert. Yet abruptly, one man got back to his feet again, squeezing past knees and unsettling everyone in an effort to reach the end of the pew.
“What is he doing?”
“Who?” my pew neighbor chimed in curiously. She followed my gaze and sighed. “Isn’t he gorgeous? That’s Steve. He’s reading the dedication tonight.”
Something weird was happening to me. I had a strange tingling sensation, a kind of jubilant foreboding in my tummy that I had never experienced before. I heard myself speak without knowing what I would say.
“Has he always been in the choir? I’ve never seen him before.”
“He comes and goes. He’s not here very often. I think it’s a work thing…” My neighbor’s voice seemed to come from a long way away. My eyes were trained on Steve as if my life depended on him.
Suddenly, he looked up. His gaze met mine and our eyes locked. Time stood still.
Those eyes. Round and sparkly, they were like pools of melted chocolate sprinkled with stardust, mysterious and warm and oozing tenderness. A prickle ran down my spine, and the hairs at the nape of my neck rose in anticipation.
I knew without the slightest shadow of a doubt that this was the man I would marry. And I also knew that this recognition was mutual. Steve stood stock-still and I could practically see the electricity arc between us.
The moment passed; it had seemed like minutes but had probably been mere seconds. I rose to the surface as though I had been in a trance. Entranced.
“Are you all right?” my neighbor whispered.
“Fine,” I whispered back. “Absolutely fine.”
Chapter Two
The concert went well until somebody arrived with the proverbial bang right in the quietest moment of the piece. The slamming of the church door made everybody jump, and the ensuing shuffling of feet and muttered excuses distracted most of us. I could see our conductor frowning, but she continued without missing a beat.
Everybody surreptitiously craned their necks to see who might be causing this disturbance. Everybody but me. I would have recognized that voice anywhere, at any volume, however muted or whispered it was. Plus I had been waiting for this moment, knowing that Dan would make an entrance of some description when he and the band arrived. Yet I blushed deeply, feeling responsible for bringing this rock-god, classic-klutz into the church.
I fiddled with my necklace. The necklace. The half-engagement-ring pendant with the beautiful sapphire that Dan had had made for me after I turned down his proposal on the plane back from Paris. He usually wore the other half—a kind of symbolic “we’re not really together, but we’ll always be together” gesture that summed up our friendship perfectly. To me, the pendant had become a good luck charm, and it reassured me now. It wouldn’t matter whether Dan liked the music or rated our performance; he had made the effort. And yet… part of me wondered whether this was actually a good thing. Had I made a mistake by inviting Dan into this
part of my life that I had so carefully carved out for myself as a new beginning?
Distraction, double distraction, and now triple distraction. First Tim, then Steve, now Dan. And now I had lost my place. My pew neighbor actually clamped a hand over my mouth to stop me from having an unintentional solo moment, and I snapped to with a jolt.
Calm down, Sophie, I told myself. No harm done. Nobody will have noticed. Nobody except for… I could see Steve winking at me. I blushed some more, suppressing a wild giggle. No more! I admonished myself, turning my attention fully to the music. I resolved to meet Steve after the concert and, after that, tell Dan off for making such an entrance.
Best laid plans! The concert ended and before I could grab my chance, Steve loped off to the front to speak to the conductor and a group of people I didn’t know. I remained in my seat and speared Steve with looks while the other altos filed out one by one. Come on, come on, come on, I urged him under my breath, knowing I was running out of time, knowing that any minute I would be claimed.
Too late. While I was still trying to generate some sort of invisible tether between myself and Steve, Dan had found me, dragging Rachel, Jordan and the rest of the band along with him as I had known he would. They swooped down on me full of kind words and congratulations, eager to let me know how much they had enjoyed themselves. General mayhem ensued as six people crowded into my pew, but Dan somehow managed to sit himself down next to me. He gave me a boisterous hug that nearly toppled me over. I was sure his voice could be heard all over the church as he half-roared, half-sang, “Sophie, that was beautiful. I am so impressed.” He regarded me critically and gently touched a finger to the bruise on my forehead.
