Tangled Up In You (Rogue #1)

Chapter 30

30

SOPHIE

S ophie and Gavin were more than thirty minutes late getting to the studio for the Rolling Stone magazine photo shoot. The guys didn’t bother to mention the tardiness, though, once they saw Gavin’s decidedly un-rock star clothes. Instead, they mercilessly mocked him for the oversized khaki cargo shorts and yellow polo shirt borrowed from Sophie’s father after having taken an unexpected swim in the Pacific Ocean. He had enjoyed the warm water so much that they ran too late to do anything about his wet clothes. Steve’s gear had done well enough in a pinch.

Gavin went along with the jokes and even made some at his own expense, all while the reporter John Riley watched from the back of the room. But as Sophie raised her hand to push back her hair, she glanced over at Conor and caught him staring daggers at her.

He raised his eyebrows and directed his gaze to her ring finger as a question and she smiled with a small acknowledging nod.

“Hang on, hang on.” Conor held up his hands and got all their attention. “Gavin, are you serious with this?”

Gavin looked from Conor to Sophie and back again. “What’s that?”

Conor reached out and took Sophie’s left hand, holding it up to showcase the ring. “What the fuck is this all about? Tell me you are not getting married.”

“Yeah, that is the plan.” Gavin shrugged.

“You’re not even twenty-one yet.”

Gavin looked at his friend for a long moment. “Con, that’s got nothing to do with it. All you need to know is that this is the real thing.” He pulled Sophie to him, wrapping his arm around her shoulders.

“You’ve just fucked over the band. You know that?”

Sophie cringed at this declaration. It meant Conor was no fan of hers, that, in fact, he would blame her for anything negative that happened to the band. She also cringed at the fact that the Rolling Stone journalist was witness to all this.

“How do you figure that?” Gavin asked.

“A married lead singer? You’ve got to be joking.”

“It’ll be fine.”

“It’s a right fucking selfish move,” Conor grumbled.

“Listen, Rogue can’t be undone by this.” Gavin’s voice had been confident, insistent, but he searched Conor’s eyes. “Right?”

The energy shifted in the room as Conor hesitated. Sophie recognized the need in Gavin’s eyes. He needed Conor to not just accept this but support it. Gavin had always looked to Conor for approval, but this was something more. It was clear that if Conor didn’t validate the engagement, the dynamics of the band would be irrevocably changed.

“Yeah, sure, you’re right,” Conor finally said. “Congratulations are due, I suppose.”

Gavin smiled and released Sophie so he could embrace Conor.

“Congratulations, Sophie,” Shay said. He gave her a hug. “You’re good for him.”

“Thanks,” she said.

“Welcome to the club, then!” Martin said. He kissed Sophie on the cheek.

“Wait, what does that mean?”

“I’m getting married myself. Celia is her name. She’s planning it all out for spring next year.”

“That’s fantastic!” Sophie hugged him.

“Yeah. Guess a married bass player doesn’t rate the way it would for your man,” Martin said with a laugh. There was no malice in his observation. He said it as a simple fact. “Anyway, I think you’ll love my Celia.”

“I can’t wait to meet her.”

While Gavin looked for a wardrobe change with the magazine’s stylist, Sophie sought out Conor. She found him in a chair in front of a large mirror, flirting with the makeup artist. Or rather, the makeup artist was flirting with him as she leaned against a narrow table filled with her supplies.

“What I wouldn’t give to have those eyelashes,” she told him. She was petite and her brown eyes were a stark contrast to her bleached white hair.

“You’re doing just fine,” he told her. “More than fine, actually.”

She tried to hold back a smile. “What are you guys doing after this?”

“I’m not busy now,” he told her with a smile so suggestive there was no mistaking it.

Sophie saw the color rise to the girl’s cheeks. But rather than retreat demurely, she seemed ready to jump into Conor’s lap there and then. Sophie understood the girl’s impulse. Conor was model-handsome—and the guitar player in an up-and-coming rock band.

But allowing these two to follow their hormonal instincts would disrupt Sophie’s plans of having a private talk with Conor, so she cleared her throat.

Conor glanced at her with irritation, but his expression quickly relaxed.

“Can I talk to you for a second?” Sophie asked, moving closer.

He watched her, his eyes lingering on hers before doing a quick scan over the rest of her body. She wore a denim miniskirt with an embroidered maroon boho top. Her blond hair was loose and she wore large, thin gold hoop earrings. Platform sandals accentuated her long legs. Though she didn’t think the outfit particularly sexy, the way he examined her was almost predatory. She’d always known he was attracted to her, but after that first day at school, he’d backed off. At the Palladium, however, he didn’t try to hide his desire. And this was a continuation of that openly hungry way of drinking her in.

“Stop looking at me like that,” she said.

“What?” He straightened up in his chair, clearly startled by being called out.

“So, is it okay to interrupt for a minute?” She gave the makeup artist a small smile.

“Em, yeah, sure.” Conor looked at the girl. “Don’t go too far, okay, honey?”

The girl wasn’t happy at being dismissed but she obliged them and wandered away. Sophie went to the makeup table and toyed with some of the brushes.

“So, we’ll practically be related,” she said as she opened a MAC lipstick and tested the deep plum color on the back of her hand.

“What?”

“You know, with you and Gavin as close as brothers.”

“Oh.”

She put the lipstick down and wiped absently at the mark she had made. Taking a deep breath, she said, “I hope you can be happy for us.”

“Soph, it’s grand. Okay?” He shifted in his chair, and something about the way he looked away revealed more than his words.

“You’re hurt,” she said, her eyes widening as she understood where his anger was coming from. He and Gavin had been friends since they were seven years old. Conor had no siblings but had always acted as if Gavin was his brother. It was natural that he would feel possessive of their friendship.

He raised his eyebrows. “Em, not sure what you’re talking about.”

She touched his forearm and he looked down at her hand. “Nothing will change with the band, you know.”

He scoffed and pulled his arm from her. “It’s already fucking changed, hasn’t it? Instead of running with a lead for a song—three in the morning or whenever—instead of getting to our gigs on time, instead of hanging with us after the show, he’s with you . And that’s all well and good, but don’t go telling me nothing’s changed.”

Sophie nodded. “No, I get it. You’re right.”

“I know I am.”

“But—”

“But what?”

“I think I can make him happy. Truly happy. And we both know he needs that.” She pointedly skirted around saying what they both knew about Gavin—that a part of him was broken and would never be mended. But she could be—wanted desperately to be—of use in lessening his hurt.

Conor looked away from her as he took this in. He fixed his eyes on some middle distance for a long moment. At last, he released a heavy sigh. “I think you’re right,” he said softly. “At least I hope so.”

Sophie smiled and nodded, quickly blinking back the tears that came with her relief. She had bet right. They were united in wanting to take care of Gavin. She had known instinctively that this was important to assert, that it would make them into allies rather than adversaries.

There was an outburst of laughter from the other side of the floor and it served to instantly lighten the mood between the two of them.

Sophie smiled. “Thank you, Connie.”

“Don’t start that again.” He stood.

She had naturally used Connie as a nickname for him when they were in school together but was the only one to do so. Everyone else knew how much he hated it. He vehemently shut down any attempt to call him that. But he’d always let Sophie have her way, his protests mild at best.

“Anyway, sorry to interrupt your little …” she said, gesturing to the makeup counter and back to him suggestively.

“Little what?” he asked, amused.

She laughed. “Whatever it was you two were about to do.”

“Ah, you saw that, did you?”

“Just a bit.”

“Well, do you think I have a chance?”

“I don’t think there’s any doubt about it.”

He put his arm around her neck familiarly as they started toward the backdrop for photos. Leaning down, he whispered conspiratorially in her ear, “I don’t either.”

“Congratulations on your engagement,” John Riley said as he took a seat next to Sophie.

She had been watching the boys for the last forty-five minutes as they were photographed. The outburst she and Conor had heard earlier was Shay and Martin’s reaction to seeing Gavin wearing dark brown leather pants with a softly draping white long-sleeve shirt. The style was perfect for a rock star singer but not one Gavin had ever tried on. He had always been a jeans and T-shirt guy. But despite his bandmates’ jokes, he took to the ensemble well. The trousers were made of the softest calfskin and molded to his body. The shirt was tucked in front, showcasing a silver belt buckle low and tight across his hips. The unmistakable effect was that he exuded sex.

The others looked exactly like themselves: casual yet cool in well-worn jeans or work pants and distinctive tee shirts. Shay wore an old Clash shirt, while Martin wore a brand-new baseball-style shirt with Mickey Mouse holding up what seemed to be a middle finger. Conor’s military-style black short-sleeve shirt with gray striped epaulets, combined with his black jeans and silver pocket chain, served to make him even more darkly handsome.

They stood together, varying their positions now and again, and Sophie thought they made a striking group. Each brought so much to the band and their personalities came through as they stood staring into the lens of the camera. As the photographer grunted his approval and gave minor directions, she imagined the impact this cover would have. The sudden rise their career had already taken was merely the beginning, and she knew she wasn’t the only one to sense this.

“That’s the one,” she murmured.

“What’s that?” Riley asked.

“That’s your cover shot.” She pointed to the boys. Gavin had his arms around Conor and Shay’s neck and was leaning forward slightly, a taunting smile playing at his sensual mouth as he focused intently on the camera. Martin was to Conor’s right, but Gavin drew all the focus.

“Yeah, maybe. Listen, it would be fantastic to hear how Gavin popped the question. I can use it to wrap up the story neatly.”

Sophie was slow to look at the reporter. “Um, no, I don’t think so.”

“No?”

“It’s something that should be kept private. You understand, don’t you?”

“Well,” he said with a laugh, “not exactly. Maybe you can give me just one detail? Like, where you were when he asked?”

Sophie thought about that. It didn’t seem terribly harmful, even if it meant admitting to trespassing. “I wanted Gavin to see the city at night. We hiked up behind the ‘Hollywood’ sign. Alone up there, with the lights spread out before us, it was . . . perfect.”

Riley scribbled in his notepad for a moment. When he was done, he looked at her and asked, “So, in this very short period of time, you reunited with your ex-boyfriend, got engaged, and now he’s leaving to go on tour. He’ll be on stage every night in front of screaming girls. And you’ll be here in L.A.?”

“For a little while, yes.”

“You’re not worried that this big romantic gesture will turn out to be a fairytale?”

The question wasn’t as unkind as it seemed. Sophie knew she was making a huge leap. But she’d rather take that leap, hoping she could fly, than never know what heights she might reach with Gavin.

“Actually, I already think it is a fairytale,” she said with a smile. “But I’m okay with it not being a predictable one.”

“Why’s that?”

Just then, Gavin looked away from the camera and made eye contact with her. The stoic rock star gaze he had been using for the photographs faded and was replaced by a wide smile. He placed his hand over his heart and winked at her before turning his attention back to the photo shoot.

Sophie felt her insides go liquid. She knew she’d never be able to get enough of him. The sentiment overwhelmed her and she told Riley more than she probably should have.

“Gavin’s all I need. No matter what happens now, I know I’ll always choose him. And that everything will be okay.”