Tangled Up In You (Rogue #1)

Chapter 65

65

CONOR

“ C onor?”

He opened his eyes to find Colette standing before him, a paper cup of coffee and a small brown bag in her hand. He’d been enjoying the morning sun on her stoop. There were two things he noticed that pleased him: she was bringing home coffee for one, and she wore jeans and a threadbare tee shirt, meaning she had changed clothes and wasn’t doing some sort of walk of shame from having stayed overnight at another man’s place.

“Morning, honey,” he said as he stood. He tried to kiss her on the lips but she turned her cheek to him, though he caught a hint of her pleased smile before she covered it.

“What are you doing here?” she asked. “One surprise was nice, I’ll admit. But two times in as many days is a little pushy, no?”

Ah, so she was back to trying to play hard to get. What game was this, anyway? She’d pushed him away yesterday … until that weird thing of asking who the “unavailable woman” he’d been in love with was. That had come out of nowhere, but it did seem to spur her interest. Or, was it jealousy? She’d kissed him like she never wanted it to end.

“You did say to ring you,” he told her. “You know, yesterday? When you were kicking me out only moments after I’d given you more than one mind blowing orgasm, that is?”

She tried and failed to hold back a smile. “So, I did.”

Leaning toward her, he brushed his lips against hers but didn’t kiss her. Instead, he moved his mouth to her ear and said, “Invite me in. We can try for a new record.”

She pulled away to meet his eyes before turning and unlocking the door.

As he followed her inside, his mobile rang and he automatically checked it. It was Gavin. He hadn’t spoken to him in over two weeks, a rarity. But he figured a day or two longer wouldn’t hurt, and let the call go to voicemail. There were other things on his mind at the moment.

They didn’t make it to the bedroom this time. Instead, he bent her over the back of the sofa and took her forcefully, talking dirty to her as he coaxed the first orgasm out of her with expert fingers massaging her clit. Afterward, she collapsed, folding over the sofa, and the sight of her luscious bare ass made him drop to his knees so he could taste and tongue her even as she claimed she couldn’t handle anymore. He soon proved her wrong, bringing her to another explosive peak. By then, she was left even more undone and he pulled her limp body into his arms and carried her into the bedroom. Gently placing her on the bed, he spooned her from behind, holding her generous breasts and planting slow kisses along the side of her neck. A teasing pinch of her nipples had her arching her back, her ass grinding into his ready cock. That would end in orgasm number three for her, one more than the day before, but still just the start, he thought.

He was still catching his breath from the last effort when his mobile rang again.

“Let me see who it is,” he said as he reached over her to grab the phone.

The readout said it was James, and as Colette trailed her fingertips over his chest and down his abdomen, he again let it go to voicemail. But within a few minutes the phone rang again.

“Fuck’s sake,” he groaned.

“Ignore it,” Colette said, kissing his neck.

This time it was Shay. And now he began to worry. He answered the call.

“What’s up, Shay?”

“Turn on the tele. Wherever you are, find a tele and watch MTV or CNN,” Shay said quickly.

“Tell me what the fuck it is,” Conor said as he gestured to Colette to turn on the television.

Her expression quickly changed to one of concern and she scrambled to turn on the TV before handing him the remote control.

“Gavin’s talking to the press about his mother,” Shay said.

The screen came to life, showing the surreal vision of Gavin standing in front of his home surrounded by a dozen photographers and journalists.

“Fuck me,” Conor said softly.

“From what I can tell,” Shay said, “all this started ’cause there’s an article coming out in Vanity Fair this week about his Ma. Christ, look at Sophie there.”

Conor focused on Sophie. She was standing next to Gavin with an expression that clearly showed her heart breaking for her husband.

“I can’t believe the madness of this,” Conor said.

“I guess Gav didn’t really intend on doing this, but MTV says all these reporters have been at their house since early this morning trying to get a response.”

“What’s going on?” Colette asked.

“Watch,” Conor said.

He stayed on the phone with Shay while his eyes were fixed on the screen.

The camera had a dead-on angle, focusing on a tight shot of Gavin as he ran his hand through his hair and prepared to speak.

“I’ll just say a few words,” Gavin said, and the reporters suddenly hushed while the camera clicks intensified. “You’re all here because there’s been a terrible intrusion into my family’s privacy,” he continued. “An article is due out concerning my mother, the premise being that I have lied to the press and misled fans for the past few years regarding whether she is alive or dead. The article rightly says she is alive.” Here he paused and looked down for a long moment before returning his hard stare at the cameras. “At least to the best of my knowledge she is. I have been one hundred percent honest in the past when I’ve said anything at all about her. I never claimed she was dead, only that I had lost her. I would like to now ask for my privacy back. This is no one’s concern but my own family’s. Please do as we have done and let her live the life of her choosing.”

With that said, he then stepped back from the mass of microphones that had been thrust toward him. He looked exhausted, and as Sophie took his hand he leaned into her slightly.

The station stayed with the scene as the reporters shouted questions at Gavin.

“Why did she abandon her family?”

“Have you ever heard from her?”

“Was she being abused—is that it?”

“What would you like to say to her?”

Conor winced as he imagined the turmoil Gavin was going through. And then he smiled when he could clearly read Gavin’s lips as he muttered “fuck off” in response.

“I can’t get out of here until tomorrow,” Shay said.

“I’ll leave today,” Conor told him.

“Good of you. Then I’ll see you back in Dublin in a few days.”

“Plan on it,” Conor said before ending the call.

“I don’t understand any of this,” Colette said as she pulled on her T-shirt.

“It’s complicated. Let me try to get in touch with Gavin, then I’ll tell you some of it.”

He tried Gavin’s home phone and immediately got the answering machine. Then he tried Gavin’s mobile but it went straight to voicemail.

“Fuck, he won’t answer his lines.”

“Do you want Sophie’s cell number?” Colette offered.

“Good idea. I have it,” he said and tried her next.

“Why do you have Sophie’s number?” she asked.

“Why wouldn’t I?” he asked absently.

“Because she’s your friend’s wife .”

He ignored her as Sophie answered. “I just saw it on the tele, Sophie. What’s going on there?”

“Oh, Connie, it’s awful. Gavin is ready to break down,” Sophie said, her voice trembling with a mixture of anger, sadness, and hurt.

“Shh, now, honey. You know he needs you strong,” Conor told her. “Can you put him on the line?”

“Yeah. Where are you, anyway?”

“I’m in New York, visiting Shay. I’ll get a flight back today, though, and come straight there.”

“That would be great, Conor. Hang on.”

He waited while she took the phone to Gavin, who after a few moments said a hoarse hello.

“You okay, Declan?”

“Been better, Con. I have the feeling once I finish off this whiskey I’ll be right numb enough,” Gavin said with a laugh.

“Save some for me. I’ll be there late tonight.”

“Where are you now?”

“In New York. Shay’s coming back tomorrow.”

“Marty offered to come back from France. I told him no. I’m not even sure why you should rush back, man. There’s nothing to be done at this point. They’re a pack of rabid fucking dogs, the press is.”

“I can see that. Nice touch, by the way, as you went inside.”

Gavin laughed softly. “I couldn’t resist. The fuckers. Here I am asking ever so goddamn nicely to be left alone and they’re suddenly hard of hearing.”

“Least if I’m there we can tell ’em to fuck off together,” he suggested.

There was a long silence and Conor looked to see if he might have lost the connection on his phone but he hadn’t.

“Gav?”

When Gavin spoke again his voice was seething with hurt and betrayal. “Con, it was my own fucking brother who gave ’em the best quotes. He’s the one who suggested a reinterpretation of my lyrics. I could kill him.”

“Jesus Christ,” Conor muttered. Conor liked Gavin’s brother about as much as Gavin did, which wasn’t saying a lot. Gavin and his older brother, Ian, had never gotten along. They were born with an incompatibility that seemed to carry over with Gavin’s friends. Ian had always taken the Irish tendency to be skeptical of someone’s ambitions and raised it to the level of contempt for Gavin daring to dream of something as fantastic as being in a band. Despite all their success, Ian had always dismissed Gavin’s part in things, categorizing it as luck rather than talent and hard work.

“Yeah. And I only know it ’cause the magazine sent me the article asking me to comment on it before they went to press. Bastards knew I would give them nothing.”

“When did you read it?”

“About a week ago.”

“A week? Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I dunno. I guess I didn’t know how the fuck to respond at first. Now it’s gotten all out of control.”

“It’ll die down,” Conor reassured him. “You gave them enough. Now just shut it out and they’ll have nowhere to go with it and it’ll be done.”

Gavin was quiet again. “I hope you’re right, Con. ’Cause I honestly don’t know if I can handle this.”

“You can , Gav. You can. Look, I’ll be there soon enough. Now, put Sophie back on for a second, okay?”

“Sure.”

While he waited for Sophie, Conor noticed Colette was watching the continued “news” report on the true story of Gavin’s mother. A ripple of irritation coursed through him at seeing her so captivated.

“Gavin seems a little better for talking to you,” Sophie said as she got on the line.

“Thing is, it won’t last,” he replied. “Do me a favor, honey?”

Colette now turned and watched him as he spoke on the phone.

“Sure, what?”

“Cancel whatever modeling gigs you have for a bit. He shouldn’t be alone.”

“Wait a minute, what makes you say that?” she asked with alarm.

“No, I don’t mean it like that. He’s about to slip into some serious depression here—you said it yourself.”

“I know. I’ll do whatever I can. You know that, Conor.”

“I know, Soph. Thank God for you. And hey, do your best to … distract him from all this ’til I get there.”

Sophie laughed. “Are you suggesting what I think you are?”

Conor smiled. “You know me—always comes back to sex.”

“We’ll see you soon. Have a safe trip.”

After ending the call, Conor fell back against the bed, already exhausted.

“So you’re leaving?” Colette asked as she sat with him.

“Yeah. I gotta get back. Not sure how to get the fastest flight?—”

“I texted my agent—she’s booking it for you. She’ll call back in a few minutes to tell you which airline.”

He sat up and smiled at her. “Thank you, Colette. That was sweet.”

“That’s where you belong, isn’t it? With Sophie?”

“And Gavin,” he said, annoyed.

“I just thought with you calling her honey and talking about sex, she’d be the one you’d need to rush back to.”

Conor got up and started dressing. He knew Colette had a weird thing with Sophie, both admiring what she had accomplished in the modeling industry and yet feeling competitive with her, but this was something else.

“You don’t understand what you saw with Gavin, ’cause if you did, you’d know you have no fucking right to pull some jealousy trip right now.”

“What I understand is that Sophie is the unavailable woman you’re in love with and?—”

“Stop this. You sound like a child trying to speak of adult things you have no understanding of,” he said sternly. But his entire body was tense over the idea that he was that transparent. “And fuck your agent getting me a flight, too,” he said and strode out.

He was at the front door when she grabbed his arm.

“Don’t go like this. I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be jealous. I don’t. Please.”

“I don’t have time for your games,” he said, pulling away from her.

“Please, Conor,” she said, and the naked pleading in her voice made him stop and look at her.

“Please what?”

“I don’t want this— us —to end.”

He met her eyes for a moment. “I’ll ring you later, honey. Okay?”

She nodded eagerly. “Just do me a favor,” she said, wrapping her arm around his neck and pressing her breasts against him.

“What?”

“Don’t call any other girl honey. Let me be your honey,” she purred.

“You, honey , are a total mind-fuck,” he told her, and she smiled as if it were a compliment.