Page 112 of Tangled Up In You

“Sure, yeah. Why not?” Gavin replied and led the way back inside.

“You okay, honey?” Conor asked Sophie, taking her hand.

“Yeah. It’s just hard knowing you can’t do anything to help,” she said.

“You’re doing everything you can, and that’s enough,” he replied, and received a quick hug of thanks in return.

They found Gavin in the living room, passed out on the sofa. He was lying on his back, breathing heavily through his open mouth.

“Let’s at least turn him on his side,” Conor said, ever conscious of the cliché of a rock musician choking on his own vomit while passed out.

“You must be exhausted,”Sophie said.

They sat at the kitchen table together in the near dark, having left the lights off and with only the outside lanterns for illumination.

Conor tipped the bottle of Redbreast 15-year-old whiskey over one of the tumblers Sophie had brought out, filling it halfway. He then filled the other a quarter full and pushed it toward her.

“A bit tired, yeah,” he admitted, and knocked his glass against hers before downing the contents. He should have savored the drink but he craved the warm buzz he knew it would provide.

Sophie sipped hers and stifled a cough.

Conor smiled at her. Though the liquor was of the highest quality, it still went down harshly for her, reminding him that she was a woman of intriguing contradictions, at once sophisticated and innocent. Even when he thought he knew her, she could still surprise him, and that kept him wanting more.

“Colette wanted you to call her when you got in,” Sophie said.

“Fuck’s sake,” he muttered as he refilled his glass. “She called you?”

Sophie laughed, amused. “Yeah, right after you left for the airport. She told me quite pointedly that you two are together.”

He tossed back his second glass, trying to buy time to sort out how he felt about all of this.

“She seemed happy, Conor. You think you really like her?”

“I do, indeed,” he replied honestly. “Though, she’s different than what I’m used to. A bit of a challenge.”

Sophie nodded and sat back. She absently swirled the remaining whiskey in her tumbler, sinking into her chair.

“Thanks for coming back so quickly,” she said. “Gavin thinks the world of you for good reason.”

“I wish he hadn’t said that thing about trusting me so much.”

Sophie looked up at him. “Why?”

He looked at her with eyebrows raised for a long moment, hoping he wouldn’t have to say aloud what they had skirted around for years.

“Oh, you mean …”

“Yes, that.”

“The thing is,” she said, trying to keep her tone light, “it’s just a sexual attraction. So, it’s really pretty harmless.”

He started to grimace in denial of this characterization before catching himself and acquiescing with a small nod. She had always been quick to accept his attraction to her as nothing more than surface-level. How could he be disappointed by that, though? He’d set it up for her to rationalize it that way years ago, after all.

“Yeah,” he said as he helped himself to more whiskey. “That’s all it is.”

“And even then, it’s really probably just your defense mechanism to keep from getting close with anyone else.”

He laughed. “You’re saying I have intimacy issues?”

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