Tangled Up In You: A Rogue Series Novel

by Lara Ward Cosio

  TANGLED

  UP IN YOU

  Lara Ward Cosio

  Copyright © 2016 Lara Ward Cosio

  All rights reserved.

  ASIN: B01F9XUH82

  ISBN-10: 0692712070

  ISBN-13: 978-0692712078 (Rogue Publications)

  For my girls, Paloma and Emma

  ~

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  To learn more about the Rogue Series, visit:

  LaraWardCosio.com

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  ~

  Also by Lara Ward Cosio:

  Playing At Love: A Rogue Series Novel

  rogue

  pronunciation: /rōɡ/

  noun

  1. A dishonest or unprincipled man.

  1.2 A person whose behavior one disapproves of but one who is nonetheless likable or attractive

  (often used as a playful term of reproof)

  PART ONE

  CHAPTER ONE

  Sophie Kavanaugh knew what she was about to say would be met with disbelief. Derision, even. She hadn’t shared this with anyone in the two years since it happened, preferring to keep it her own intimate memory. It was something she cherished elaborately, playing it out in her head on repeat in the months after it happened, and gradually less so as time went on. But she never protected it any less. Perhaps that is why she kept it to herself, worried that its intensity would dim if exposed.

  So, why offer it up now? The beer buzz probably had a lot to do with it. She sat with a group of friends in a dive bar not far from the University of Southern California campus where she had recently begun her sophomore year. The grunginess of the place made them feel as if they were fashionably slumming it, and was just lax enough that they weren’t carded for drinks. And now the five of them had drained a dozen beers between them.

  “What’s it going to be, then, Sophie?” Tobin asked and grabbed her arm, shaking her with mock eagerness. He released his grip but his fingers trailed gently over the fine blond hair of her forearm.

  Tobin was in her Foundations of Western Art class and had been angling to get her alone rather than in group outings like this since the semester started. She had successfully put him off but his patience and persistence was starting to work on her. With dirty blond hair and pale blue eyes, he was cute, even if he did stare at her a little too intensely.

  She had hesitated taking her turn in their drinking game “You Wouldn’t Believe . . .” in which each of them had to divulge either a hard-to-believe-truth or make something up and successfully defend the lie before declaring which it was.

  “Okay, okay,” Sophie said and took a deep breath. “You wouldn’t believe that . . . Gavin McManus asked me to marry him when I was sixteen years old.”

  There was a brief moment where the others looked at her in silence and then, as if orchestrated, they all burst out laughing.

  “Yeah, right!” Rachel said, pulling her long straight hair over one shoulder.

  “How on earth do you think you can pull that one off?” Zach asked.

  “You do know that you’re supposed to choose something at least halfway believable, right?” Gracelyn said, leaning over the table and patting Sophie on the hand.

  “It’s true, though!” Sophie said, smiling at the memory. She knew that to her friends what she had declared was tantamount to saying Chris Martin of Coldplay or Liam Gallagher of Oasis had asked her to marry him. Not that Gavin McManus of the Irish rock band Rogue was quite in the same league as those singers, but it still seemed just as fantastic.

  “Totally,” Rachel said. “And then there was the time that Justin Timberlake asked me to be his backup singer.”

  They all laughed and the conversation escalated into how Justin supposedly serenaded Rachel with “Rock Your Body” and how he had rocked it so well that she was now expecting his baby.

  Sophie watched the others distantly, the memory of seeing Gavin for the first time coming to the forefront of her mind. She had been miserable that first school day, lamenting her rash suggestion to move to Ireland for a year in order to get away from a group of mean girls. Her parents, the workaholic founders of a tech company in Silicon Valley, had been surprisingly supportive of the idea. They declared it a wonderful learning opportunity and quickly arranged for her to stay with a trusted employee who was helping to set up their company’s manufacturing expansion in the business-friendly country. They shipped her off with plans to visit when it aligned with progress checks on the business venture.

  The family hosting her at their home on the Southside of Dublin was warm and welcoming. But once the initial excitement of exploring the tourist areas of the city wore off, Sophie began to panic at the idea of what she had done. At age sixteen, she was suddenly in a new country all on her own.

  She had gone to school that first morning full of dread over being the new girl. Make that, the foreign new girl. After getting a brief tour of the essentials from a student volunteer, Sophie made her way down the hall toward her first class. She stopped short when her eye was drawn to the large group of kids loitering several doors down. They were circled around one boy, all listening raptly as he spoke and gestured wildly.

  Sophie moved closer to hear what was so interesting, hugging a notepad to her chest as she watched the boy. His hair was chestnut brown, untamed and past his collar, and he had big, expressive blue eyes. His jaw was square and set off by a sensual mouth with lips that had the slightly raw look of being just kissed. He wore his school uniform with obvious reluctance. His gray and blue striped tie was loose around his neck, the top button of his white shirt undone, and his gray trousers were slung low over his hips.

  “How did you know the fella wasn’t about to take his car out?” asked one of the onlookers.

  “Well, I didn’t, did I?”

  “Gavin, you’re mental!”

  Sophie repeated the name Gavin in her head as she continued to watch.

  “The added risk is what makes the joy ride all that much better, anyway,” Gavin said with a grin. The crowd laughed appreciatively. “So, we went out for about an hour or so, me and Seamus did. As we’re turning the corner to get the car back, I could just make out this figure under the streetlamp looking up and down the street wondering where in bleedin’ hell his car went. I take one look at Seamus and he gets me right away, pulling the most incredible move. He threw it straight into reverse and back we went right around the corner and out of sight.”

  “Didn’t the sorry bastard see you then?”

  Gavin hesitated, building the anticipation. “He didn’t. What’s better, though, is he goes back inside long enough for us to park the thing back where we found it so in the end he was none the wiser. It was magic, I tell you. Seamus is a wizard at driving, don’t you know?”

  The group erupted into laughter and cheers and it soon became clear that the boy Gavin called Seamus had been among them but reticent to take center stage. As Sophie was examining the way the boy’s cheeks turned crimson under the attention of congratulatory slaps on the back and handshakes, she sensed she was being watched in return. Looking back at Gavin, she saw that he had his eyes fixed on her and a rush of heat filled her body. She expected him to appraise her from head to toe as most boys did, but instead he held her firmly in his gaze. She couldn’t have broken the connection if she tried. They kept eye contact even when a teacher poked his head out from a classroom and tried to rally the kids. It must have lasted mere seconds but it felt like a lifeti
me as sound muffled and the movements of others blurred and receded.

  Finally, another boy, taller and with jet black hair and deep blue eyes, threw his arm around Gavin’s neck and pulled him from the others.

  Sophie saw Gavin mouth something with a nod of his head in her direction. But she was so overwhelmed by the intensity of that silent connection that she didn’t sort out exactly what he had said until she was seated in class, trying and failing to focus on the instructor at the white board.

  Gorgeous. That was what Gavin had told his friend as he motioned to her. And she had been a goner.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Gavin McManus always knew he would be a famous singer-songwriter. In fact, he convinced himself it was his destiny. Destiny because he discovered early on that he shared something important and ultimately defining with his musical heroes: McCartney, Lennon, Hendrix, Geldof, Clapton, Bono, and others. Like him, they had also suffered the absence of their mothers in one way or another. They had funneled their resulting anger, anxiety, and pain into amazing work. And in understanding this, Gavin latched onto the idea that he could do the same thing. He developed an unrealistic confidence in this being his natural path This fantastical thinking was counterbalanced by both his innate charm and his propensity towards oversharing a wounded, romantic core. Eventually, these qualities combined to make him the exact right person to be the frontman of a rock band like Rogue.

  The band was currently touring for their first album, It Could Be Now. It had slowly become a real force with both the American college scene and alternative radio. With two singles charting in the top ten, they had sold over three million albums worldwide. This success meant their days of squeezing into a minivan with all their equipment and sharing one hotel room on the road were short-lived. Rogue’s manager seized on the momentum by doggedly adding gigs and media appearances to the tour at every opportunity. In turn, Gavin and his bandmates indulged in all that the excesses that came along with success in the music world. It was a never-ending party and Gavin was happy to play the part of young rock star. He was living the life countless kids fantasized about while listening to their favorite band in the isolation of their bedrooms.

  So why was it that he was currently on the tour bus heading to Los Angeles and feeling such a strong sense of desolation? He looked out the window, surveying the barren view off the freeway, all beige and lifeless in temperatures so hot and foreign to him that the heat of the sunbaked glass nearly singed his fingertips.

  Los Angeles had treated Rogue well with its major radio station, KROQ, an early supporter. It was because of this city, and relentless touring, that they had earned a loyal fan base. All this was built on small clubs that graduated to college campus shows, and now the two sold-out shows at the Hollywood Palladium. Gavin knew he should be tingling with excitement, eager to parlay his confidence and the band’s talent into a couple of amazing live shows. Instead, he was weighed down by bitter disappointment.

  He became aware of the fact that he hadn’t made any progress on the set list for the next gig. A sheet of paper was on the table before him, a pen clutched in his fist. With just one album, they fleshed out their sets with covers and had been working lately on a couple of songs from Jeff Buckley’s masterpiece Grace. Conor was partial to “So Real,” as it gave him the chance to play with feedback on the guitar. Gavin was drawn to “Lover, You Should’ve Come Over.” The line, “Maybe I’m too young to keep good love from going wrong” especially resonated with him. But he wrote down the song title of “Last Goodbye” instead since he sensed the line “kiss me, please kiss me” would make the girls in the audience scream. He looked around the bus at his hungover bandmates.

  Conor was stretched out across two seats, one arm behind his head as he read a book with a cartoonish tiger on the cover that didn’t gibe with the title, Life of Pi. Martin and Shay were playing an Xbox military shooting game. James Kelly, their manager, was farther back in the bus working on a laptop, no doubt plotting the band’s next move.

  The San Francisco and San Jose shows they were coming off from had gone well, despite moments of distraction. Thoughts that Sophie Kavanaugh might be in the audience had swirled in Gavin’s head, tripping him up during a couple songs before he regained his concentration. Knowing Sophie had grown up in Menlo Park and returned there after her year of studies in Dublin, made him hopeful she would turn up for the band’s shows.

  But she hadn’t. And he fell prey once again to the warped reaction he’d had when she left Dublin. When she’d left him.

  It wasn’t rational to feel this way about the girl who had loved him so well for an entire school year. He had loved her beyond all limits in return. Their connection defied logic given they had only been sixteen. But she had filled a void in his life. And then she had walked away, despite his desperate entreaties for her to stay. The hurt and sadness morphed into an all too familiar sense of abandonment.

  Gavin shook his head in frustration at this train of thought. He had tried to talk himself out of comparing Sophie’s returning home to America to his mother’s abrupt absence when he was just seven years old. But he couldn’t help that the ache felt so similar.

  The contrast to how she had made him feel when he first saw her in the hallway at school was so stark it seemed cruel to think of it. But there was no stopping the replay of memories as the bus rocked smoothly down the open road.

  Having an American show up at school was an anomaly. That this American was also so strikingly beautiful had sent a buzz through the building. Gavin hadn’t yet been clued in, however, as he was too busy regaling a group of friends with the story of how he and Shay nicked a car for a joyride. A natural leader, other kids looked to him for both direction and, as in this case, entertainment, and he fed off of the attention, in large part due to what he euphemistically called the “loss” of his mother.

  When he first saw Sophie, she was watching Shay burn up in embarrassment over the accolades from the crowd for his driving ability. Tall, thin, and blond, she literally stood apart from everyone else. But it was something in her hazel eyes that had mesmerized Gavin. They expressed a compelling mixture of compassion and intelligence. Then she turned her attention from Shay to him and they shared a moment of silent connection so intense he was left dumbstruck.

  It was only when his friend, Conor, pulled him onward toward class that he regained his senses. He said the first thing that came to mind, declaring the new girl “gorgeous.” But he soon learned there was more to this pretty girl, as she didn’t conform to any preconceived notions.

  CHAPTER THREE

  “It’s okay,” Tobin said as the others continued in their fanciful stories, “I believe you, Sophie.”

  Sophie was slow to smile as she came out of her reverie, but she did recognize that Tobin’s wink belied his vote of confidence.

  He emptied his Heineken bottle into her glass, and she knew his “generosity” was motivated by a desire to increase her beer buzz. “Tell me more about this episode where you almost became a child bride.”

  Despite the sarcasm—or maybe because of it―she was beginning to like him more. “I lived in Dublin for a year. My parents were expanding their business there and I wanted a change, so they agreed to let me go. It was the most amazing time of my life. I hated to leave. Gavin asked me to marry him when we were in the car on the way to the airport. He didn’t want me to go and it was sort of desperate.” She looked down at the amber liquid in her glass. “But, I think he meant it.”

  Tobin watched her for a moment before breaking out into a grin. “You are really good at this game,” he said. “Really, your dedication is amazing.”

  Sophie nodded. “Got ya.” There was no need to try to convince him of her truth.

  The truth was that though she had been a goner the moment she saw Gavin, he had quickly gone from flirtatious to contentious when they met in their shared history class that first day.

  She had been digging through her backpack to find a pen when
Gavin took the chair next to her. She felt his eyes on her and the resulting rush of heat to her cheeks even before she turned to him.

  “What’s the craic, darlin’?” he asked smoothly, as if they were picking up a conversation that had only recently been interrupted.

  Thrown by both his familiar manner and the unfamiliar expression, she stayed mute.

  “What I mean by that,” he said, flattening his brogue into a comical American accent, “is, how are you? How are you enjoying our little island here?”

  Ah, so he had learned she was American. She sighed and resigned herself to the fact that she had already been gossiped about. Though she knew it was to be expected, she had rather it went on without her knowledge.

  “It’s been great. So far,” she said, unable to keep the wariness from her voice.

  “What brings you to these parts?”

  He was watching her intently, his earlier casual nature suddenly replaced with open interest.

  “Just wanted something new. New experiences.”

  That made him smile and she realized how it might have sounded. Coming off as the eager new girl, ready for anything. Not exactly what she meant, and she scrambled to explain, telling him in a rush about her parents’ foray into the local burgeoning tech industry.

  “Ah, so you’re a rich girl slumming it with us Paddies, is that it?”

  His teasing had an edge to it, and she wasn’t sure how to respond.

  “Paddy, darlin’, is another word for Irishman,” he continued. “It can be harmless or a put-down.” He sat back in his chair. “If you’ve come here thinking you’re better than us lot, go ahead and use Paddy as you like.”

  Sophie was taken aback by this line of attack, and her first instinct was to retreat from him. Almost as quickly, she was surprised to find the inner reserve to push back. She had spent the last few months allowing former friends at her school back home harass her over nothing. Hadn’t she come all this way to put an end to that nonsense?