“This isn’t over. We’re just getting some space.”
He waited for her to agree with him but she was now looking vacantly at the wall above the fireplace mantle. Where a lot of people might have an oversized television, she had a series of family photographs.
“Cee?”
“You broke us,” she whispered.
“It’s not what I wanted.” He reached out and cupped her cheek in his hand. Once more, she wavered, closing her eyes and leaning into him before remembering her resolve and pulling away. “I’ll just get some things, and then I’ll be on my way,” he said.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Martin had been wrecked upon leaving the house that night, operating on autopilot as he called a taxi to take him to the airport. Getting the flight to San Francisco wasn’t planned. He just knew he had to get away, far away. The only chance he had at breathing and reflecting on all that had happened was to truly have space.
Of course, if he were honest, he would admit that being near Ashley was a big motivator. And look how that turned out. It solidified the end to his marriage in the loudest, most obnoxious and hurtful way possible.
Sitting in the morning light of Ashley’s back garden, he drained his coffee and rubbed his face. What on earth could he say to Celia? How empty would she view his apologies? Was Sophie out of her mind to say they could come back from this? And did he even want a chance at that? He still wasn’t sure what he wanted from Celia. Celia, who had become like a stranger in the last few years. If it wasn’t to do with the kids, they didn’t spend time together. Martin wouldn’t have been able to answer what her favorite pastime was, let alone the color of her toothbrush. They had become co-parents. Roommates. They hadn’t been lovers in more years than Martin could remember.
But did that mean he should abandon their marriage? Shouldn’t it be worth fighting for?
Sleep deprivation combined with the unexpected, stressful events of the last forty-eight hours made it hard to think. Thinking wasn’t what he needed now anyway. He needed to get back to Shay’s so he could sleep the day away. Hopefully, when he woke up, he’d have answers.
Shay let him into his house without saying a word. There was no judgment in his face, just resignation.
“Sorry to be a bother. I’ll just go to my room,” Martin said.
Nodding, Shay led him upstairs to the second level. “Gav and Con have been calling,” he said. “James and Felicity, too, of course.”
“Yeah, I saw the stories. But I don’t have anything to say about it.”
“Guess you made your decision on things. Didn’t need me there after all.”
Martin rolled his eyes. “Look, you want me to go somewhere else? ‘Cause I don’t need this shite from you, too.”
“Marty, it’s a bit fucking hard not to have a reaction after seeing you settled down and being the family man for all these years. I’m just surprised it’s gone down like this.”
“Yeah, well, you don’t know anything about my marriage, do you? Only what you wanted to see. It might have looked perfect on the outside, but it had gotten pretty lonely being in it.”
Shay watched him for a long moment. “Sorry to hear that, man.”
“I’m entitled to more, amn’t I? I’m allowed to not just settle because that’s the way it is, right?”
“Of course. I mean, I’m no expert at these things, but I’d think so.”
“Right. Okay, then.” That’s what he needed. Just some kind of support. Because otherwise he felt like the biggest asshole in the world.
Shay tried not to wake Jessica when he slid back into bed with her, but she turned immediately to him and wrapped her arms around his neck.
“Everything okay?” she murmured.
Shay kissed her cheek and neck. “I don’t know about that. But he’s back, so we’ll see.”
Jessica looked at him now, her eyes still heavy from sleep. “That’s what I loved about you from the start.”
“What’s that?”
“Your concern for your friends. You really want to help.”
He and Jessica had met in the midst of one of Gavin’s lowest times. It was a period where the bottom had fallen out for Gavin, and Shay had wanted to be there for him. The stress of that had intruded upon his first date with Jessica. But her recognition of the importance of his friendships had endeared him to her—then and now.
“That’s what friends do, yeah?” he asked.
“You guys have a special friendship. You Rogue boys,” she said with a smile.
There was a time not so long ago that his bandmates’ scandals had alarmed her. He had almost lost her over her fear of being pulled into it. But she was all in now. She understood that though they had these well-publicized escapades, the provocative headlines never told the whole story. Clearly, they were not perfect men, but she knew their hearts were good and she didn’t let the media attention change that belief. Shay was grateful for this. Especially since it didn’t look like they would ever get to a prolonged period without some juicy story about one of them splashed all over the tabloids.
Shay kissed her, pulling away with a gentle bite on her perfect bottom lip. She had both African American and Chinese heritage, making her a compelling beauty. Her smooth, full lips were what he could never seem to get enough of, and Jessica knew where this focus was going to lead.
“Maybe we shouldn’t? He’s just down the hall,” she whispered.
“Our house, love. He’ll have to get used to it if he’s to stick around.” He pushed her onto her back and moved on top of her. “Besides, you’ve been a whole lot more adventurous than this.”
She opened her legs to make room for him. “Meaning?”
“One word,” he said and kissed her. “Lift. Or, as you Yanks say, elevator.” He was referring to an impulsive sexual encounter they’d had in a hotel elevator the previous year.
Laughing, she reached down and pushed her hand into his sweats, grabbing his backside.
“Still turns you on, I see,” he murmured as he pushed his hardness against her.
“We’ll have to find another opportunity to get adventurous,” she told him.
“I think I love you.”
She laughed. It was an inside joke that went back to the beginning of their relationship. Shay imagined they’d still use it when they were ninety. After all, she was his forever girl.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Gavin watched Sophie quietly make her way down the hallway, careful not to disturb their sleeping daughter.
“Fell asleep again?” he asked as she joined him on the sofa. More often than not, Sophie would lie down with Daisy at bedtime and end up falling asleep for a time herself. These short naps were actually helpful since Daisy still wasn’t sleeping through the night and only the comfort of her mother would do.
“Just a little while,” she said. She snuggled into him and he put his arm around her shoulders. “Now that Daisy’s down, tell me how it went with Conor and the boys.”
He had brought Daisy home hyper from his dinner with Conor and Martin’s boys. The baby had been stimulated rather than exhausted by the outing, and so Gavin had played acoustic guitar and sang silly songs for a while to amuse her.
Now, he and Sophie would have four or five hours before Daisy woke up for what was commonly the first of two or three interruptions.
“It was good. The boys loved to see Daisy, of course. Conor had them well in hand. We had a little chat about wild stories in the media and to not always believe what you see. Just in general terms, you know, hoping to prepare them for what they’ll surely hear. Gotta give Celia credit. She’s insulated them so far.”
“She’s always been very protective over what they’re exposed to. Once they got old enough to really grasp the tour life she stopped taking them.”
“True. But, I’ll tell you, the best part was seeing Conor-fucking-Quinn driving a minivan with three kids,” he said and she laughed. “I took pictures.” He pulled his phone out. The sourpuss on Conor’s fa
ce as he sat at the wheel of the classic “mom car” was priceless.
“That’s amazing,” Sophie said with a laugh.
“I might have to go out to San Francisco to see how I can help.”
“When would that be?”
She had tensed under his embrace and he squeezed her to him.
“Not exactly sure, darlin’. Have to see what the fallout is like with all this. And come up with a plan of some kind.”
“Maybe Conor and Felicity should be the ones to race to the rescue?”
“Might take all of us.”
“Then maybe Daisy and I will go with you.”
“Really? Thought we were holding off traveling again?”
When Sophie was pregnant, they had envisioned taking the baby with them on tour to stay together as a family. But she had made one trip to meet the band during a break in Thailand. The long flight and adjusting to different time zones had been rough, and so they had agreed after that it was best to keep the baby in a stable environment at home.
“We’re going to have to get her used to it sooner or later. And, honestly, I just don’t want to be without you again so soon.”
Gavin smiled but quickly grew concerned. Sophie wasn’t clingy or needy. A quick trip away like he was suggesting wouldn’t normally be something to bother her. Turning so he could pull free from his embrace of her, he looked into her eyes. Those hazel eyes which could turn a deep shade of green still mesmerized him.
“Tell me you’re okay,” he said.
“I’m okay,” she replied.
“But?”
“Um, I may be crazy and not even know what I’m talking about—”
“Tell me, Sophie.” He held his breath in anticipation of some terrible news.
“Baby, it’s okay.” She held his face in her hands and smiled.
He let out his breath but told her, “You’re scaring me.”
She dropped her hands and instead took his in hers. “No, no. I’m sorry. It’s just that, I think I’m pregnant.”
“What?” This was entirely unexpected, though now that he thought about it, they hadn’t exactly discussed trying or not trying to have another baby.
“I mean, if I am, it’s probably too early to even get an accurate test. I just, I feel pregnant.”
Her eyes were shining with tears, and looking at her anew, he saw that as tired as she was, she radiated joy. They had lost her first pregnancy in the midst of a separation in their marriage. It was traumatic, requiring surgery. Some women might have been hesitant to try again, but when they recommitted to their marriage, Sophie was fearless in deciding to create a family with him. She had never looked back to the times when they hurt each other, and had been the one to calmly, confidently, steer their course going forward.
And though she had at the end of her pregnancy mistaken contractions for worsening sciatica pains, her instincts once Daisy was born had been flawless. She found the special ways to hold or burp or swaddle their baby to soothe her discomfort. With the band on tour, she became a single mother for several months, rejecting the idea of bringing in a nanny. As exhausting as it was, she found the energy to take Daisy out so she could people-watch at the Farmers Market, the park, or the zoo. She documented all their adventures and set her alarm to the time zone of wherever Gavin was performing so she could share the photos and videos with him.
Watching her blossom into motherhood was a profound experience for Gavin, given that his own mother had abandoned him when he was seven years old. He missed out on too many years of having that maternal connection. Sophie had always had nurturing tendencies, even when they were first together as teenagers. There was no doubt he had been subconsciously drawn to that. Now she was able to focus that energy upon their daughter. And the child she might be carrying. He loved her with everything he had, and now even more so.
Gavin pulled her into his arms and held her tightly. She gripped him in return. Martin’s troubles were cast aside. Because all was right exactly where he was.
The phone call that interrupted this sweet moment was, therefore, that much more shocking.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Conor was glad to get home and hear nothing. No crowded restaurant noise. No three rowdy boys arguing. No Celia trying excruciatingly hard to sound chipper and “normal.”
The silence also meant that Felicity was not there. Or at least not on the ground floor. She may have gone into town to meet with James. Or she may be upstairs. In either case, Conor was content to be alone. Slipping off his leather jacket, he moved into the formal living room. It had a wall of windows facing the Irish Sea, now dark as night had fully engulfed them. His posh neighborhood of Dalkey had homes built into the peninsula, and their lights now set the coastline aglow. But Conor’s main interest was in the piano sitting as a showpiece in the room.
The Model M Steinway was a manageable size for the room and offered rich tones. Conor took a seat at the black tufted leather bench and opened the keyboard cover. He had been something of a music prodigy, learning piano and violin as a three year old. His instincts for music later enabled him to become one of the most respected rock guitarists in the world, though his mother would have preferred for him to have stuck with classical instruments.
Felicity had purchased and arranged the delivery of this piano while he was out on tour. Having been back for only a short time, he was still enjoying exploring its responsiveness. He was also the type to get lost in music as a therapeutic exercise when troubled.
After a moment’s contemplation, he selected the sheet music for Chopin’s Ballade No. 4 in F minor. Turning the pages, he scanned the notes, hearing the piece in his head as he went. This review enabled him to begin playing without needing to refer back to the sheet music. He didn’t have a true photographic memory, but if something related to music, it was damn close. Except for the intense middle section and the coda, it was a subtle, somewhat difficult piece. That was what made playing it so satisfying.
Celia’s accusations came to mind as he performed the twelve-minute ballade. Her pain was raw and he had intruded upon it. It was no wonder she turned the tables to focus on him. Still, it stung. It had now been almost two years since his very brief sexual affair with Sophie. For him, sleeping together was the culmination of a decade of loving her from a distance. The betrayal of his lifelong friend, Gavin, had gone unrecognized in the heat of the moment. And it even took him some time afterward to really understand the gravity of what he had done. His selfish, lustful heart had nearly destroyed his band and the greatest friendship he had ever had. Though, in the end, he had chosen Gavin over Sophie, and his friendship had been mended, it could never really be the same as it once had been—as was evidenced by Gavin choosing Shay to be the godfather to his daughter.
Conor knew that decision had been deliberate. As well as they were getting along again, Gavin would never be able to fully get over the hurt. And how could he? Conor thought about the roles being reversed and how he would feel if Gavin slept with Felicity. The image sent heat throughout his chest. And he understood that the burn of anger and betrayal wouldn’t ever completely dissipate.
Gavin had told him once to stop looking backward. To just keep moving forward and that nothing was irreparable. It was the advice he needed at the time, but it didn’t necessarily mean Gavin was willing or able to follow it himself.
Once Gavin had decided he could work towards some kind of forgiveness, Conor had ceased self-reflection over his betrayal. He wanted so desperately to move on that he discounted the lasting damage he had done. But Celia brought it back to the forefront of his mind, and along with it came an ache of regret and sense of loss so powerful that tears came to his eyes as he attacked the keyboard for the final aggressive passage of the piece.
The sudden silence after he hit the last note allowed him to hear his own accelerated breathing. And then he heard another person sigh.
Looking up, he saw Felicity standing on the outskirts of the room. He blinked back the
wateriness in his eyes and tried to orient himself to the present. Unlike Gavin, he wasn’t someone who wore his emotions openly. He couldn’t remember the last time he cried or teared up. Trying to explain where it had come from was too much at the moment.
“That was incredible,” she said and moved closer. “So delicate and almost melancholy at the start, and then that dramatic end. God, you’re good.”
He cleared his throat and took his time carefully closing the keyboard cover before turning to sit on the end of the bench. “Just messing,” he said and focused his blue eyes on her.
“No, that was a full-blown professional-level performance, sweetheart.”
She was close enough now that he could reach out and pull her to him. Wrapping his arms around her waist, he pressed his cheek to her belly and held her. She stiffened for a moment, surprised by this embrace. But she recovered quickly and ran her hands through his short black hair before holding him in return.
Felicity had the ability to read him, challenge him, and support him in ways that continued to surprise him. He had spent so many years avoiding real relationships, tangled up in his feelings for Sophie, that it was still a novelty to be with someone with whom the emotions were mutual. Felicity didn’t play games and she didn’t allow him to revert to his old tendencies to do so. But she also had a lovely way of deconstructing things, accepting situations—including, except for a brief period the previous year, his affair with Sophie. And so, he knew she would react with directness to his sudden clinginess with her.
Before she could say anything, he stood and took her face into his hands, kissing her hard on the mouth. He didn’t want to share what he had been thinking about, even if he knew she would listen and advise him without judgment. He just wanted her to answer the one question he hadn’t been brave enough to ask until now.
“Why won’t you marry me?” he asked in a rush. He kissed her again, desperate to impress upon her how much she meant to him.
“Is that what you were thinking about? While you were playing?”
Finding Rhythm (Rogue Rockstar Series Book 4) Page 10