Page 99 of Tangled Up In You

“It was a one-time thing. No need for formalities.”

She shook her head. “That’s still all you want?”

“Sophie, you’re a sweet, smart girl, but you have no clue about men. Having a ride with a girl like Astrid is exactly what I want. No complications, no expectations, no hassles.”

“If you say so. What I do know is that Gavin is going to hate this SI cover.”

“Trust me, he’ll love the photograph.”

“You know what I mean. He will hate that the rest of the world gets to see it.”

“Jesus, you’ve been doing this for more than, what? Six years almost, yeah? He’ll have to learn to appreciate your work at some point.”

She knew that was true, she just didn’t think it would ever really happen. The more she thought about this cover, the more she tried to convince herself that making a point to tell Gavin about it beforehand might be giving it too much importance. She hadn’t told him when she got her first Vogue cover. Maybe it would be better to treat it like just another job.

Wrapping her arm through Conor’s, she told him, “Thanks for your support, Connie.”

“You know I’m your biggest fan, honey.”

60

CONOR

Conor was the first to enter the room, throwing himself onto one of the couches and examining a cut on his finger that had bothered him during the last song they did for sound check. He’d have to tape it to prepare for another enthusiastic South American crowd here in Buenos Aires—their latest stop on the Lollapalooza festival circuit. After a moment, he pulled a magazine out from under his feet. The photograph on the cover stopped him cold.

Then he got uncomfortably hot.

The magazine was the Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Edition. On the cover, Sophie was standing ankle-deep in clear turquoise waters, wearing nothing but white bikini bottoms with one forearm barely covering both of her breasts.

It was the sexiest she had ever looked, and his buried desire for her was quickly rising to the surface all over again. He had tried to place Sophie in the “friend-zone” for years now. Longing for his best friend’s wife was a hopeless endeavor. It went against the precision and control he required in the other aspects of his life. But the ache she caused in him had never really gone away, not since that moment in the studio at his house. Since then, he had bedded gorgeous women, even had fleeting relationships, but it was always Sophie that he wanted.

“Jesus,” Martin said, looking over his shoulder. “That’s one hot girl.”

The intrusion into his thoughts made Conor jump, but he tried to cover it by replying with a sly grin, “All grown up, aye?”

“Look there, is that her?—”

“Nah, they wouldn’t show nipples on the cover of this,” Conor told him, but the thought that it might be there was enough to make him study the photo all that much more closely.

“What’s this, then?” Shay asked, putting a hand on Martin’s shoulder as he trained his eyes to the magazine in Conor’s hands.

“Our supermodel,” Conor said.

“Fuck me,” Shay said.

“Say that again,” Martin whispered.

“What’s the craic, lads?” Gavin asked, the last to file in.

Conor simultaneously sat up and rolled the magazine up, grasping it with both hands. “Oh, nothing. Nothing at all.”

“Come on, give us a look,” Gavin said, snatching at the magazine.

“Get off,” Conor said and pulled away from him.

But Gavin was too quick. He grabbed the magazine and let it unfurl. Recognition filled his face over the fact that his three best friends had been ogling his wife as if she were some sort of men’s magazine centerfold.

“We were just having a laugh,” Shay said. “You know, saying she’s all grown up, is all.”

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