Page 72 of Tangled Up In You

“I messed up with school. I can’t start until next year.”

“More time for us,” he said with a grin and pushed her back onto the bed. Winding his kisses to her ear, he sang softly, his voice raspy with modified Bowie lyrics: “Sweet girl, you know you drive your Mama and Papa insane.”

“My parents are going to kill me,” she said.

“Nah, I won’t allow that.” He pressed his body to hers, slipping between her legs and kissing her neck.

“You’ll save me?” she asked, and then closed her eyes tightly in embarrassment at her vulnerability and neediness.

But he didn’t respond, instead kissing her on the mouth deeply, grazing her body with his hands, and pressing his hips against hers. She was glad he was going to brush past her asking him to be her savior. It was easy for her to ignore it, too, as anytime he sang to her she lost all sense. Combine that with his touches and she was defenseless against him.

But then he pulled away, held her face in his hands and met her eyes. “I’ll save you,” he whispered.

The relief that flooded through her at his reassurance should have been an indication that they were headed down a tangled path. But she chose to dismiss the nagging feeling that this exchange was setting up an unhealthy reliance on each other in favor of moving forward with the man she loved.

41

GAVIN

Gavin watched Sophie as she moved fluidly about their hotel room, settling their things into the space. They’d just checked into the Swiss Suvretta House in St. Moritz where Sophie’s parents had arranged a post-Christmas get-together. It was clear as soon as their train crossed over a hundred-year-old limestone viaduct and through spectacular glacial mountains that this would be an experience unlike anything he’d known before. But Sophie took the phenomenal setting and luxurious accommodations all in stride.

She’d always possessed uncommon poise and maturity, especially in contrast to the girls in school. As a result, she had seemed grown up from the start, as if she was born knowing the proper way to navigate life. She projected an expectation that her path was assured one way or another, and Gavin attributed this to her having been brought up to assume she would succeed. It was a quintessentially American trait, but one she carried with grace.

And it was also the opposite of what he had grown up with. The Irish were much more likely to knock you down than build you up. His brother and father had always promoted the idea of lowering expectations, especially when it came to his musical ambitions. Though he prided himself on defying both the odds and the lack of confidence of his own family to make it in the music world, being in this extravagantly wealthy environment brought forth a deeply ingrained sense that he wasn’t good enough to be there.

“It was very nice of your parents to bring us here, to this outrageously expensive spot that only the lucky few get a chance to see,” he said. “But what’s it all about, really?”

Sophie closed the door to the wardrobe and went to the foot of the bed. “I don’t think they have any motive other than wanting to get to know you. That seems like a good thing to me, like they’re taking us and our engagement seriously now.”

He thought about that. “Yeah, I suppose so.”

She shook her head at his reluctance. And then she peeled off her sweater, dropping it to the floor. She slid her jeans down and stepped out of them, standing before him in a matching moss green and pink lingerie set for a moment, letting him look at her. Though slender, her body was feminine with soft skin, a narrow waist, and shapely hips. There was a pale brown birthmark above her left hip and he envisioned pressing his lips to it.

Before he could make a move, she climbed onto the bed and up the length of his body, straddling his waist. Leaning down, she kissed him long and slow.

“Stop overthinking it,” she told him softly. “It’s just a vacation.” She kissed him again, deeper this time.

He grabbed her backside and stopped thinking at all, happily giving himself over to pure sensation.

Gavin’s suspicionsof his future in-laws’ motives were dispelled at dinner, where they all fell into easy conversation and drank too much. Steve and Maggie readily admitted that the location of their vacation was chosen primarily for the opportunity to be spectators to the kind of sports only the obscenely wealthy indulged in.

“Where else can you see snow polo?” Steve asked with wonder. “As if regular polo wasn’t enough of a rich person’s sport, let’s go ahead and transport these world-class animals to high altitude cold and snow and put them through their paces on a frozen lake!”

Gavin laughed appreciatively. It was exactly what he had thought when Sophie mentioned their trip was timed so that they could watch the snow polo tournament.

“And not to mention the ‘White Turf’ horse race later next month,” Maggie added.

“Or the skijoring!” Steve said enthusiastically. He went on to explain that skijoring was a sort of human chariot race. The horses ran up to fifty miles per hour while the “rider” trailed behind on skis, holding tight to long reins.

“I imagine it’s quite the spectacle,” Gavin said. “Too bad we’ll miss it.” Their trip was only for four days since Sophie’s parents had managed to use their influence as former business owners in Dublin to get her admitted to the university. Rogue was also supposed to start working on new material. Their label had recently gone from encouraging them to produce demos to using more forceful language.

“We’ll tell you all about it,” Steve said. “Listen, Gavin, do you golf?”

Gavin tried not to laugh as he wondered how drunk Steve was. It was a frozen, though beautiful, world out there. What would golf have to do with anything?

“No, can’t say that I do, Steve.”

“Tomorrow you will. Snow golf.” The amusement shone in his eyes.

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