Page 114 of Tangled Up In You

It had apparently been exactly what he needed to push past the emotions of the previous day, as he was now enjoying Conor’s story of how frazzled he’d found Shay in New York, and that he’d taken it upon himself to connect him with their pretty waitress at the sushi bar.

“Did he get the ride?” Gavin asked, suitably amused.

“He better have. We’ll ask him when he gets here—embarrass the hell out of him,” Conor said.

“Why don’t you two leave him alone?” Sophie asked, smiling. “Just because he’s not your typical lecherous Irishman doesn’t mean you should harass him.”

The men laughed.

“It’s such a shame to see him miss out on all the advantages he has,” Conor said. “I mean, not only is he a good-looking kid, but he’s the fucking drummer in the best band in the world. Why wouldn’t he be out every night with a girl or two?”

“Maybe because you do enough of that for the whole band!” Sophie said, and they laughed again.

“Nothing wrong with liking sex,” Conor said.

“I’m with you on that one,” Gavin added. “But I hear from my friends at the tabloids that you’re committed to one girl in particular now.”

Conor grinned. “Don’t think I’d go that far with it, mate. But she has potential.”

“Well, when I talked to her yesterday, she sounded positively in love,” Sophie said.

“In that moment she may have been. She’s a bit of a mind-fuck. Would you agree, Sophie?”

“She likes attention, that’s for sure,” she conceded.

“As long as you’re getting fucked the other way, does it matter?” Gavin asked with a laugh.

“There is something to be said for knowing who you’re dealing with and what they want. But it’s fun enough for now.”

“Oh, that reminds me!” Sophie said. “Did you ever call her last night?”

“Fuck. I forgot. I’ll bet I’m in for it!” Conor said, smiling as he got up to go make the call.

Once alone, Sophie turned to Gavin and took his hand into hers.

“What do you want to do today, baby?” she asked.

“This. This is all I want—to be with my best friends. Okay, darlin’?”

She nodded before leaning over to kiss him.

They keptthe television and phones off and spent most of the day in the back garden, soaking up the rare, warm sunshine. The boys stripped down to their shorts and Sophie put on a bikini. They lounged while drinking margaritas and chatting aimlessly.

It was mid-afternoon when a commotion came from the street, the shouts of the paparazzi signaling the arrival of someone at their door.

“I’ll get it, guys,” Sophie said, pulling on a sundress.

“More margaritas while you’re at it, please,” Conor said with a grin.

Expecting to find Shay, she swung the door open and was surprised to see Ian instead. He was shielding himself with a newspaper from the dozen or so photographers and camera crews still lingering in the nearby street. Ian was an older, heavier, and less attractive version of Gavin. Clothes were always ill-fitting on him and he attempted to tame his unruly hair with too much gel, leaving him looking greasy. Sophie had never bonded with him, in large part because he rarely accepted her invitations to dinner parties or other events. And when she did see him, she instinctively recoiled from the negative energy radiating from him. He was someone who could suck the life out of a room and was, therefore, the exact opposite of his brother.

Before she could say a word, he let himself in and shut the door.

“Jesus, I’ve never seen anything like it,” he said, exasperated.

“What are you doing here, Ian?” she asked.

“I’ve come to see my brother, of course,” he replied with a degree of casualness she found galling.

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