Tangled Up In You: A Rogue Series Novel

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Tangled Up In You: A Rogue Series Novel Page 15

by Lara Ward Cosio


  Conor took the guitar from her and placed it in its stand.

  “Can I have a quick word, Conor?” Sondra asked and gestured out the door.

  “Sure,” he said but groaned inwardly. Sondra’s hints about wanting to be more serious had become less subtle lately, and he imagined she wanted to take this inopportune time to press the issue once more.

  They walked out into the garden, closer to the main house but not inside. The air felt wet but rain hadn’t fallen in a few hours.

  “What on earth was that?” she asked, her face flushed.

  Conor was taken aback by her sudden anger. “What are you talking about?”

  “You and Sophie—what is that?”

  “Just now? She was just messing, like she said. What are you on about?”

  “Is there something going on with you and her?”

  “She’s Gavin’s fiancée—you know that.”

  “The way you look at her . . . it’s not right.”

  “What does that even mean?”

  “Did you ever have something with her?”

  Conor sighed. “No. She’s always been Gavin’s.”

  “Don’t sound so disappointed, Conor.”

  “What do you want, Sondra? You want me to tell you that I’m after my best friend’s girl?”

  “Are you?”

  He took a deep breath and shook his head on the exhale. “No, of course not.” He knew this delayed response was too telling but he tried to keep his face impassive.

  “Where is it going with us?”

  “Don’t let’s do this again,” he said.

  “You owe me the truth.”

  “That’s all I’ve ever given you. Fuck’s sake, can’t we leave it be? It’s been grand with us the way it is. Isn’t that enough?”

  “I’m not sure,” she said quietly.

  “Well—”

  “Conor Quinn! I’ve got a lead! Something good. Really good.”

  Conor watched Gavin make his way to them through the house, oblivious to what he was interrupting. Conor was especially glad to see his friend now.

  “What is it?” Conor asked.

  “It’s dead romantic like, but you’ll have to trust me.”

  Gavin’s excitement was obvious. And contagious. Conor felt his blood start to pump in anticipation of new creative efforts. Efforts that had been long delayed because of Sophie. It was time to make something happen.

  “Let’s get to it, then,” Conor said. He gave Sondra as apologetic of a look as he could conjure up before heading to the studio with Gavin.

  ~

  The lead Gavin was inspired by came from a line of poetry by Nobel Prize winning author Rabindranath Thakur. For years, Gavin had used bits of poetry as springboards to provoke and frame his own writing. It had actually become a problem in school when he was tasked with writing an essay on a given poem and he would instead turn in a paper that veered off into his own creations. Years later, some of those poorly graded papers would make it to the tabloids.

  In this case, Gavin borrowed the essence of Thakur’s words, making them his own to use as the centerpiece of a song: My heart, that feral bird, has found the sky in your eyes. The song was built around that premise, of Gavin finding his true place with Sophie. Over the course of the next ten days, he and Conor perfected the lyrics and melody, crafting what would become Rogue’s biggest hit, “You’re My One.” The first part of the song detailed the buried ache and longing Gavin had for Sophie when they were separated. Conor found the emotion in his guitar playing, perfectly mirroring Gavin’s singing. The tone changed near the end as Gavin pleaded, “Don't let me chase you away, suffer the weight” before rising with release and optimism to an ecstatic close. The declaration, “this thing we have, it’s fearless darling” would become a sort of mantra for listeners as they took ownership of it.

  Gavin’s voice had a depth and richness born out of new confidence. The result was that it, combined with the heartfelt lyrics and the stirring music, created three minutes and forty-one seconds of something utterly compelling.

  Though the band knew the song was special, both from the start and in the subsequent recording, they had no idea the impact it would have around the world and across generations.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  The atmosphere was noticeably tense when Sophie and Celia arrived at the studio where the members of Rogue had been holed up for the last several weeks. The women had lunched together and decided on the spur of the moment to bring the boys food as well, but just about everyone seemed irritated by their unexpected presence.

  Celia paid no mind to their annoyance. Instead, she walked down the hallway with bags of sandwiches, coleslaw, and brownies, chirping merrily about how exciting it was to see them at work.

  “Celia, babe, you should’ve checked with me,” Martin said as he followed after her helplessly. “This isn’t a good time.”

  “But it’s lunchtime, sweetheart. You need to eat, don’t you?”

  Sophie waited for Gavin to come greet her and introduce her to their team of producers, engineers, and other crew who suddenly seemed inspired to take a break due to the interruption. But Gavin and Conor were sitting on wood stools in an isolation booth at the far end of the studios, working intently on the rhythm of a guitar line and oblivious to their arrival.

  Even though the studio was near Trinity on the Southside of Dublin, Gavin had never suggested she visit him there before. Sophie was surprised by how small the studio was, even with its separate spaces for recording with either carpeted or hardwood floors. An enormous angled soundboard filled the front room, and its dozens upon dozens of knobs and switches and tangle of wires overwhelmed the space. Large speakers were both built into the wood paneled walls and set atop the soundboard. The equipment was complex, requiring multiple layers of manipulation, with a colorful keyboard and computer monitor resting in the middle of it all.

  The facility had a kitchen and a shower, but the air was stagnant with a lingering mixture of old take away food, stale alcohol, cigarettes, marijuana, and body odor. Sophie sensed the closeness of the space could easily lead to irritation.

  Julia O’Flaherty sat sleeping in one of the battered leather chairs pressed against the wall opposite the soundboard. Sophie had seen Julia at various parties and nights out, but both women used Gavin as a buffer, keeping their distance from one another. They had come to an unspoken agreement that they wouldn’t be friends.

  Shay sat at the soundboard, listening to a playback of a rough cut of a song. He leaned back and smiled at Sophie.

  “Hey,” he said softly. “Come here.” He patted the empty chair next to him and she sat down. “Truth is, we’re desperate for a break. But we’re all too fucking stubborn to admit it. We’ve hit a wall here and it hurts.”

  “Is it bad?” She saw the circles under his eyes and knew out of all of band members he would take this kind of creative roadblock the hardest. The band was absolutely everything in his life.

  “The record company is on our arses. We get reminders from them of how expensive studio time is every day—sometimes twice a day,” he said with a weary, bitter laugh. “And it’s just not coming. We’ve got the lyrics and we’ve got some of the music, but for the life of us, we can’t bring it all together.”

  “Oh, Shay,” she said softly and hugged him impulsively.

  She was at fault for at least part of this. The publicity her reunion with Gavin had helped to almost double the band’s album sales to six million. The record label had made it clear they wanted to capitalize on the interest in the band—and their relationship. They had become tabloid staples since that radio phone call in Los Angeles, though the near daily stories tended to be mundane. They’d mostly publish photos of Gavin when he was on his own or with Conor and gleefully suggest there was “trouble in paradise!” since Sophie wasn’t with him. Alternatively, they’d make innuendos out of innocent photos of Sophie with her male schoolmates. As baseless as all this was, it still cau
ght Celia’s attention, as she had just that day begged for details about several of that week’s stories. Sophie and Gavin found it silly and didn’t let it affect their routines, but she knew the fact that they were still garnering attention only stoked anticipation—and pressure—for Rogue’s next album.

  Shay was stiff in her arms for a moment and she could feel how tense the whole process had made him. But soon he exhaled and returned her embrace.

  “Enjoying yourself?”

  Sophie and Shay pulled apart at the sound of Gavin’s voice. He stood with hands on hips as he glared at them. Sophie saw Julia stir, open her eyes, blink at them, and then pretend sleep again.

  “Hi, baby,” Sophie said and stood up. She knew they were all on edge and figured it was best to ignore his attempt to start a fight. “We brought sustenance. You ready for a break?”

  “I’m not in the mood for this, Sophie. And this isn’t the kind of thing where you can just drop by. We’re under a fucking deadline,” he told her.

  “Wow, you really are in a bad mood,” she said with a smile, trying to lighten him up.

  “He’s been like this for the last two weeks,” Shay said.

  “Fuck off, Shay,” Gavin told him.

  Shay looked wounded but remained silent.

  “Gavin, don’t be such a jerk,” Sophie said. She knew that if Conor had said something like that to Gavin, he would have been just as devastated as Shay was, if not more.

  Gavin’s annoyance was clear as he stared at her but she didn’t back down, maintaining eye contact. “Don’t do this to me now,” he said stiffly. “I’m under enough fucking pressure as it is.”

  “Bit of a domestic, is it?” Conor asked as he approached them. He waited in vain for a response and finally slapped Gavin on the back a few times forcefully. “Be nice to your girl. She’s the best thing about you, you know.”

  Sophie watched the stubbornness drain out of Gavin at this friend’s semi-playful words.

  “Right as usual, Con,” Gavin said. “I need some air. Come with me, darlin’.”

  He grabbed her hand and she let herself be taken out of the building through a rear door. It opened into a narrow, paved brick alleyway and they had it to themselves. They stood together, mirroring each other with arms crossed over their chests in defensive poses. The silence grew but Sophie wasn’t going to be the first to speak.

  “I am a bastard,” he finally stated.

  “You’re not, Gavin.”

  “Thanks, but I am. I’m at a loss and I don’t see any change coming. It’s more than frustrating. I’m sorry for taking it out on you. ”

  Sophie took the few steps to close the gap between them and leaned her head against his shoulder. He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her forehead.

  “I’m sorry to show up like this. I really didn’t think it through. I only even suggested it because I didn’t know what to say when Celia told me she doesn’t like to have sex with Martin.”

  Gavin laughed and pulled away. “What now?”

  Sophie raised her eyebrows. “Seems she’s not that into it. Says it’s a lot of ‘fuss’ over nothing much.”

  “Oh, poor Marty!” he groaned. “And he’s completely fucked ’cause he’s so in love with her.”

  “And she’s in love with him, too. But she’s just not into sex. It’s too sweaty,” she said, her nose crinkled with distaste.

  “God, what else did she say?” he asked and they giggled together.

  Gossiping about their friend’s unsatisfactory sex life and agreeing they had no such worries was just the thing to alleviate their earlier tension.

  “I’ve missed you, Gavin,” Sophie said. She wrapped one arm around his neck and tried to tame his wavy hair with her other hand.

  It had been months now of the band working together tirelessly, first at Conor’s and now in studio. Gavin had been keeping opposite hours from her, meeting with the guys in the afternoon and returning home at four or five in the morning while she was committed to early classes and daytime study groups. Despite the lack of quality time together, they had stayed connected in bed. Once home, Gavin would strip naked and coax Sophie into love making that began each morning with him trailing kisses and gentle bites over every exposed part of her body. She began to sleep nude in tingling anticipation of his arrival. They established a delicious routine where he would kiss, lick, and touch her while she feigned sleep. When he brought her close to the edge, and she could no longer maintain normal breathing, he would whisper in her ear, “now I’m going to fuck you” and she would reach for him. The extended foreplay combined with his forceful confidence always led to an intense experience.

  Wrapping his arms around her waist, Gavin examined her. “We have been a bit off these last few weeks.”

  “Try months.”

  “Yeah, suppose so. It’s been hard to keep up with you in school and me working on the album, right?”

  She nodded. “I don’t want to lose you.”

  “Never gonna happen. You’re my girl.”

  “That’s true,” she agreed with a smile. “But, do you think there’s going to be an end to these studio sessions?”

  “Yes. We’re mostly there. Just need the final push. Be patient for me.”

  “I can do that.” She kissed him.

  “We have our Christmas trip to look forward to, don’t we?”

  Christian Hale had invited them all to his Sunshine Beach home near Brisbane for the Christmas holiday. Martin had opted out in order to spend his first Christmas at home with his wife, but Conor, Shay, Gavin and Sophie had accepted the offer. Both Conor and Shay would be going solo. Conor had ended things with Sondra, suggesting maybe they could get together again after the band finished the album, but both knew the truth about his lack of commitment to her.

  “We do! I’m so excited about having a summertime Christmas.” The Australian seasons were opposite of theirs, so they would be arriving in time for a warm celebration.

  “Look, we’ll wrap this up with plenty of time to go shopping for togs.”

  She laughed. “Togs,” she mocked. “Doesn’t bikini have a nicer ring to it?”

  “When I’m picturing you in one, it does.” He pressed his lips to hers for a long, slow kiss.

  “Okay, I’ve distracted you long enough,” she said reluctantly. “Time for you to go back in and apologize to Shay.”

  “Apologize? Guys don’t apologize to other guys, darlin’.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Okay, then do whatever you do to make it right.”

  “That I will. Let’s go in.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  Their vacation began with the flight from Dublin to Brisbane, as even though it took almost twenty-four hours, including one stop in Dubai, they splurged on first-class suite tickets and were rewarded with a luxurious journey. Flying on an Emirates Airlines Airbus A380 for the fourteen-hour flight from Dubai to Brisbane, they each had a private “suite” with a remote-controlled door that closed for privacy and chairs that relaxed back to full sleeping position. When the cabin lights dimmed, the ceiling of the plane sparkled with faux stars. The meals offered along the way were exceptional and included caviar and the finest collection of spirits and wine.

  Gavin and Sophie’s suites were next to each other but ultimately separated with a wall that could be lowered to waist height but wouldn’t allow them to combine their spaces, so she spent a lot of the flight in his seat with him. They took advantage of the time to reconnect after having been apart for a week prior to the trip. Rogue’s final task for their second album, That Need, was to take it to London for the record label to hear it.

  The label’s response to the album was so enthusiastic that Rogue ended up staying in London for several more days than initially planned so that the marketing department could jump on how they would roll out the new music. They also used the opportunity to celebrate, and while out partying at a club one night they met Jackson Armstrong, Britain’s leading romantic-comedy act
or and renowned bachelor playboy. He delighted in showing his new friends all of London’s hotspots and made sure Conor and Shay had plenty of women to choose from. While they were living the high life, Sophie was in Dublin, taking her end-of-term exams. The demands of Trinity were greater than that of USC, and she had struggled with the workload for the whole year. Gavin’s frequent and unapologetic ways of distracting her from her studies hadn’t helped, but in the end, she did well.

  Now as Gavin and Sophie squeezed themselves together in his reclined seat, they were well-fed, bordering on drunk from the bottle of Dom Pérignon they’d shared, and content to cuddle with the door closed. Conor and Shay had gone to the lounge and bar and hadn’t been seen for more than an hour.

  Sophie pressed her face into Gavin’s neck and smelled a foreign scent on his skin.

  “You’re wearing cologne?” she asked lazily.

  “It was in the WC. Had to give it a try. There’s women’s perfume in there, too,” he replied. “You can always wash it off in the shower room if you don’t like it.” He laughed softly, unable to hide his incredulity at the lavishness of this experience.

  Before she could lose her nerve, she asked him as casually as possible, “So, when you guys were in London . . . did anything happen?”

  “Lots of things happened,” he said and kissed the top of her head. “We got rave reviews from the record company on the album, we talked preliminary tour and video plans, we met Jackson and saw the posh nightlife. And during all that, there was not one time that I so much as looked at another girl.”

  Sophie laughed because he saw right through her attempt check up on him. “Not even a glance?”

  “No,” he said. “Marty, he was another story.”

  “What does that mean? Did he cheat on her?”

  “No. Absolutely not. He did not and he would not.”

  “But?”

  “But, he’s got an eye for the ladies. And I don’t blame him much. He said that Celia has even less sex drive since she’s been pregnant.”

 

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