Page 94 of Tangled Up In You

Gavin snatched the pillow from his friend’s face. “Look at me, Con. I’m getting married today and I look like shite.”

“Yes. Yes, you do. Now go away.”

Gavin watched as Conor turned on his side and away from him. He thought about letting him sleep but couldn’t dismiss his anxiety.

“I’ve got a question.” he said.

Conor was motionless for a few seconds before replying, “I’ve got an answer.” Rubbing his face as he yawned, he sat up and leaned against the headboard.

This question and answer repartee had begun when they were kids and was used as code to start a serious conversation. The question could be specific or general and the person who had “an answer” wasn’t claiming it would be the right answer, but that he would at least try to offer something of value.

“What if Christian was right?”

“About what?”

“Over holiday he said Rogue was about to explode. He said we’d get more attention than we could handle.”

“Sounds like a good thing to me.”

“It’ll mean more scrutiny on us. On me.”

Gavin watched as Conor silently understood then that his greatest fear really had to do with his mother. Rogue was a successful band on its own merits, but all the publicity about Gavin and Sophie’s romance had further driven Gavin into the spotlight. Now, with the intense popularity of this album, it was like time was running out. Soon, the story would come out that Gavin McManus had been abandoned by his own mother.

“You worry too much, Declan,” Conor said gently. The use of Gavin’s middle name, “Declan,” was intentional. Conor and Gavin had discovered the music of Elvis Costello together and got a kick out of the fact that the artist’s real name—Declan MacManus—was so similar to Gavin’s—Gavin Declan McManus. Conor used the name sparingly, in moments like this where he was trying to get through to his friend. “Let it happen. Just let it out of your grip. Because, you know what?”

“What?”

“It’s not yours to hold onto anyway.”

“I know you’re right.” Gavin nodded slightly and forced a weak grin.

“How’s about we get some breakfast? Get on with the day?”

“Yeah, sure.”

Gavin knew he had to shake off the anxiety he was feeling. He had an amazing day to look forward, too, after all.

56

CONOR

Conor had many regrets at Gavin’s wedding. He regretted that watching Sophie walk down the aisle toward him—or rather, toward Gavin—in her body-hugging white lace dress spurred lustful thoughts he knew he shouldn’t indulge. He regretted he could only really get away with dancing with her once. To try more than that would be too obvious. He regretted he wasn’t able to spend much time with Felicity, who had made the trip from Toronto to be there for the occasion. But most of all, he regretted ever thinking that bringing Sondra as his date would be a good idea.

He hadn’t thought it through. That was especially clear after he made his toast, in which he spoke glowingly of the singular love Sophie and Gavin had, and how he could only hope to one day find his own version of that. Sondra had turned hostile after the speech, refusing his offer to get her a drink or to dance. It was only when he got the chance to dance with Sophie that he understood what had caused Sondra to sour.

“That was a beautiful speech,” Sophie told him. “Well, the last part, anyway.”

He laughed. He had joked at the start about the fact that Sophie had been the one to pursue Gavin when they were in school, even though it should have been the other way around.

“I was only trying to find some words at the end that might match your beauty.”

“You are such a good flirt.”

“You make it easy, Soph.”

She tilted her head and eyed him. “In what way?”

He had meant because she was everything he wanted in a woman: gorgeous, sexy, smart, fun. But he couldn’t say that, not with this being her wedding, after all, so he scrambled for another response.

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