Page 64 of Tangled Up In You

Taking in a deep, sharp breath, she finally pulled away from him and walked several feet toward the other side of the rooftop. She’d wanted to know what he would do next, but the feel of his lips on the tender skin of her neck was too much. Because it made her want to melt into him and that was not something she would do. He was herfiancé’sbest friend. What was happening?

When she turned back around, she found he had disappeared. Frustrated and confused, she pushed her hands into the pockets of his jacket and felt paper and slippery packets. Curiosity got the better of her and she pulled them out. There were three condoms and half a dozen scraps of paper with phone numbers hastily jotted down.

She laughed to herself, recognizing that what Conor had done with her was just him being a player. He’d done all of that to get a reaction out of her. And yeah, okay, it worked. He’d sensually teased her and made her want more. But it was all a game to him. Maybe he was even testing her to see if she would be loyal to Gavin. More likely, it was all for his own amusement. But whatever game he’d been playing was clearly over. She shook her head and decided not to take any of it seriously.

35

GAVIN

“The city lights from the Hollywood sign have nothing on this,” Sophie murmured as they looked out through the floor-to-ceiling windows at a mesmerizing evening view of Manhattan across the Hudson River.

They were at the Boom Boom Room at the top of the Standard Hotel High Line in New York’s Meatpacking District and the Empire State Building was clear among the glittering cluster of buildings in Midtown. He was truly amazed by the incredible experiences he’d been offered in the last few years. Rogue had taken off much more quickly than even he anticipated and he had to remind himself to enjoy the ride.

“Ah, but the view from the Hollywood sign is the one burned into my heart and soul, darlin’,” he said. “I’ll never forget being there with you and hearing you say ‘yes.’”

She smiled, charmed.

Surveying the interior of the nightclub, he was impressed by the turnout for the party put on by Rogue’s label. It was so packed that the guests had to slither past each other like snakes. Most were drawn toward the enormous, circular, Art Deco showpiece bar. He saw Conor at the far side of it, his arm around the waist of a stunning brunette who was gazing up at him adoringly.

They had last seen Shay and Martin on the open-air part of the club one floor up. Shay’s excuse for lingering there was so he could smoke, but he knew his friend was more interested in eyeing the bikini-clad girls taking a dip in the communal hot tub.

“Let’s get another drink, darlin’,” he said and pulled her by the hand into the throng of people.

Gavin had been havinga good time at the party, regaling a group of new “friends” with the story of how Rogue had come in dead last in a battle-of-the-bands-style contest the same week they were signed. But then someone mentioned a recent Yoko Ono sighting and that sent him off thinking about John Lennon. Whenever he thought of Lennon, the line “I wanted you but you didn’t want me” from his song “Mother” came to mind. After that, there was no stopping the flood of thoughts that came with it, and something shifted inside him. It was a darkening of mood he couldn’t shake off.

He’d had the same sort of spells back in school, where everything seemed fine one second and in the next he was on edge and prone to push everyone away. Conor had called it “The Clash.”

It was enough tonight to make him want to cut the evening short. When Conor heard they were leaving, he dropped the girl he’d been chatting up and volunteered to go with them.

Sophie sat wedged between him and Conor in the back of a taxicab as they headed back to the hotel.

But Gavin had a different idea. He leaned forward and spoke to the driver. “Aye, mate, change of plan. Take us to the Dakota. You know where that is?”

The driver, a middle-aged Asian man, nodded shortly. “Yeah, yeah,” he grunted. “West 72nd Street and Central Park West.”

“Why are we going there, Gavin?” Sophie asked, and exchanged a quick glance with Conor.

He was quiet for a long moment, gazing forward. The streetlights illuminated the windshield on and off rhythmically as the taxi moved along.

“Do you know that I was destined for this?” he finally asked.

“Gav,” Conor said, “don’t do this to yourself.”

Gavin knew his friend was right. Knew he should shut his mouth, shut down these thoughts. But he couldn’t. He needed to purge them. To vent. To rage.

“The moment my Ma walked out the door I had no other choice. I mean, it’s almost fucking funny.”

“How does this help?” Conor asked with frustration.

“Let him talk,” Sophie said quietly.

“Look at all the musicians who were fucked up by their mother. The list is laughably endless. And me … I don’t even know if my mother is alive. What do you think is worse? Knowing or not knowing?”

“You know I can’t begin to imagine,” Conor said.

“It’s great fucking company to be in. At least there’s that,” Gavin said.

“Do you think I don’t know these stories backwards and front already?” Conor asked. “I’m just as fascinated by what it all means but I don’t see any reason to go over and over it.”

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