Page 74 of Tangled Up In You

“Just because they are amused by all of this?”

Her question was reasonable, but he ignored it, too fired up. “It’s like a game to them, isn’t it?”

“What about you playing games?” she challenged. “What about you just breezing by the truth of your mother? You tell my parents you ‘lost’ her as if she were dead and leave it at that. You’re not exactly being honest, are you?”

His mother had come up during one of their outings and, as was his habit, he had glossed over it. Sophie bringing it up now sent him on the defensive.

“It was the truth and you know it. I lost any mother I had at age seven. The reason for that, whether she left me or died, doesn’t fucking matter much in the grand scheme of things, does it? So don’t you question me on how I tell my story. You don’t get a say in it.”

The effect of his rebuke was immediate. She seemed to deflate, her usual brightness diminished. He recognized his hypocrisy as a bitter taste in the back of his mouth. Hadn’t he repeatedly pulled her close to him precisely because she knew and understood his story? And here he was trying to claim she had no right to what he had begged her to be a part of. But he didn’t see any way to fix it now. Christ, this had all started because he couldn’t keep his mouth shut.

“Let’s just leave it—” he started.

“No,” she said.

He waited for more but the only thing to break up the silence between them was the signal sounding the resumption of the match. The crowd in the grandstands behind them came to life as the players rode out onto the ice on fresh ponies.

“No, you don’t get to silence me,” she finally said. Her manner had changed again, her back straighter now, a determined set to her face. “I know up until now this has been your burden to bear, and that it’s torn you to pieces,” she said. “But you don’t get to tell me I don’t have a say.”

He looked away, uncomfortable with her rebuke because he knew she was right. But she wouldn’t let him avoid this. Or her. She pulled her sunglasses off and then reached for his so that she could look deep into his eyes.

“Don’t push me away,” she said. “Let me be a part of your story. Because I’m in this with you. Now and always. Let me help with the weight of it all.”

The simple plea hit him hard and he pulled her into his arms, holding her tight, relieved at how fiercely she held him in return.

“I love you so fucking much, Sophie. I need you.”

“You’ve got me,” she replied.

“I’m sorry I went after your parents,” he said, pulling away. “I’m just not comfortable around all of this … excess. And as much as they pretend otherwise, your parents are. I don’t to want to become blind to it, or fucking joke about it to make myself feel better about it. I can’t be the songwriter I want to be if this is where my life is headed.”

“I get that, Gavin. I do. But no matter how successful Rogue becomes, you won’t become one of them.” She nodded toward the VIP tent. “It’s not who you are or ever will be. You’re a true artist.”

He was stunned silent by how clearly she could see him. He hadn’t told her about this particular fear but she still knew exactly what had gotten him so riled up.

“Fuck me if I ever let you go, darlin’,” he said, “because I’d be the stupidest person alive.”

She kissed him hard. “That’s never going to happen.”

43

SOPHIE

On the day of Martin’s wedding, Sophie was delighted to see Gavin looking more put together than he ever had. He showered, used some mild product to tame his unruly hair, shaved, and put on a finely tailored black suit. She wore a long, form-fitting pale pink sheath that was suitably subtle so as not to take attention away from the bride.

“We’re fucking gorgeous,” Gavin said with a mischievous smile as he wrapped his arms around her from behind while she checked herself in their bedroom’s full-length mirror.

She laughed and reflexively leaned into him as she turned to kiss him. His body reacted to the pressure of her backside against him and he moaned.

“We have time?” he asked.

“You’re the best man, baby. We should have already left.”

“Ah, I’m sure Marty can use some extra time to recover from last night.” He pulled her to face him and wrapped his arms around her waist.

“Do I even want to know what kind of trouble you got him into?” she asked.

“Probably not. Let’s just say, he got a taste of what he’ll finally get from Celia after the wedding.”

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