Gavin: Pure Passion (Hamptons Book 1) (5 page)

BOOK: Gavin: Pure Passion (Hamptons Book 1)
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“She’s a colleague of my dance partner, and she invited me here. We clicked as soon as we met,” Gavin says.

They nod and look at me again, so I stammer, “Uh . . . I’ll go sit down now.” Then I give Gavin his ticket and hurry off. It was just too uncomfortable for me to stand there any longer. It’s not so bad to dance in front of an audience—then I work hard to get everybody to look at me. But with someone who’s standing right in front of me checking me out, it’s really torture.

When I look at the tickets, I realize that we have box seats, in a small, exclusive box with space for two only. “Damn,” I mutter, and make my way to the stairs. I pull the scarf tightly around me so my back remains covered.

“Good evening, ma’am,” an usher greets me. He must be responsible for the boxes.

“Good evening,” I reply, passing him my ticket.

“This way, please.” He turns and walks ahead, and I follow him like a terrier. This is not how I imagined the evening turning out. Gavin will probably want to stay with his friends until the show starts, so I can forget about us getting to know each other better, like he suggested before.

“Here you are, ma’am,” the usher says, opening the gate of the box for me.

“Thanks,” I answer and sit down in the left-hand chair. I have a perfect view of the stage, which makes me happy. The last time I went to an opening night of Macey’s, I was with Brooke; we had to sit in the parterre, and I couldn’t see anything because a tall man sat right in front of me.

I take my cell phone out of my bag and set it to silent. It’s happened to me before that it rang in the middle of a performance, and other members of the audience shot annoyed looks at me. Since then, I’ve been very careful that it’s either set to silent or completely switched off.

Gavin arrives in the box just a few minutes before the show begins and sits down next to me. “Sorry, I had to sort something out.”

“What do you mean?” I ask.

“What do you think?”

“Well, yeah, your friends really seemed to be curious and may come to the wrong conclusion about you and me . . . ,” I say.

“Exactly. Sorry Azer was such a pain in the ass.”

“What do you mean?” Then I remember. “Oh, that . . . It wasn’t so bad, I just thought it was because he’s that type of guy. At least, I hope that’s why.”

“That’s exactly what I mean, but if you weren’t upset, I’m glad. He’s kind of . . . unusual.”

“Well, so am I, so I’ll probably get along fine with him if I see him again.” I giggle a little.

“Probably,” he says, and looks down at the stage, where I realize the show is about to start.

The show is introduced, a prologue is read out loud, and then the premiere begins. I watch excitedly as Macey gives the part of Belle her own personal touch. Her colleague who plays the beast and the prince is also wonderful to watch.

The show ends, and the cast comes back on stage for a bow. I give my best friend a standing ovation. Gavin follows suit, and then the whole audience begins to stand. I whistle through my fingers, and Macey looks up at me and smiles. As I predicted, she did a wonderful job as Belle.

Afterward, we stand in the foyer waiting for her, and a few moments later she appears, still in her costume. “How’d you like it?”

I smile widely. “That was fantastic! You really rocked the stage.” Then I give her a hug.

“Lane had tears in her eyes,” Gavin tells her. “And I loved it, too. You have an excellent voice.”

She looks at him with her eyes wide, and blushes so much you can see it through her stage makeup. “Uh . . . Wow . . . Thanks . . .”

I shake my head. “Gavin, this is Macey, my best friend, and a huge fan of Downstair Alley. Macey, meet Gavin.”

“Happy to meet you, Macey,” Gavin says with a smile.

“Me, too, Gavin.” They shake hands and immediately dive into a conversation about singing and breathing techniques. I listen with interest, but don’t really feel like a part of the discussion, so I look around to see who else is here. “I’ll be right back,” I tell them when I see Jake and Rick.

“Sure,” Macey says, still concentrating on the conversation.

I go over to my boss and one of my colleagues. “Hey, how’d you like it?”

“Madeleine, I mean, Lane . . . I thought it was great! Macey’s voice knocked my socks off,” Jake says.

“I’m so amazed, I don’t know what to say.” I grin. “Hi, Rick.”

“Hey, Lane.”

“What did you think, Rick?”

“I’m not a fan of fairy tales,” Rick says, “but Macey did an incredible job. Now I finally understand why everyone likes the Disney film,” he says with a laugh.

I agree with him. “And do you know what the moral of the story is?”

“Guys should be hairy?” he asks, annoyed.

I poke his upper arm. “No, that true beauty comes from within.” I laugh, and when the waiter comes by with his tray again, I take a glass of champagne.

“Where’s Macey, by the way?” Jake asks.

“She’s chatting with my date.”

“You mean she’s flirting with Gavin?” Rick guesses.

“Probably, but that’s not so tragic,” I respond, and hope I don’t sound as jealous as I feel at the moment. If the two of them are into each other, I’m screwed, because Macey is more than pretty. She’s a true Belle, inside and out.

“You aren’t jealous, are you, Lane?” Jake whispers in my ear, so Rick doesn’t hear.

I bite my lower lip, and then shake my head. “I’m just a little pissed off because the two of them ignored me completely when they started to find each other so fascinating.”

“Ah.”

I drink my champagne and listen to Jake and Rick talking about the dance school. I comment on their conversation every now and then, but I keep looking over at Macey and Gavin and his friends, who seem to have joined them. He glances over at me, but I shyly look away. This guy makes me totally dizzy. When I’m close to him I don’t know which way is up, but close to him is exactly where I want to be. On top of him, next to him, under him . . .
Stop being ruled by your libido,
I say to myself.

“What do you think? Shall we all get changed and go dancing?” Rick asks.

“Count me in,” Jake answers and looks at me expectantly.

“I can’t just skip out on Macey.”

“Macey’s busy batting her eyelashes at Downstair Alley. Linden Priest’s girlfriend doesn’t look exactly thrilled about it, either, if you ask me,” Rick says, offering his opinion.

“How did you know she’s his . . . Forget it. Clearly, you read gossip magazines, too,” I say and look over at her. I wave at her, and then she whispers something to Linden and comes over to us.

“Hi, I’m Thally,” she says, introducing herself to my friends.

“We know,” Rick admits, and shakes her hand. “Nice to meet you.”

“You, too.” Then she introduces herself to Jake, and they exchange pleasantries. She glances back over at Linden, Gavin, and the others.

“The star of the show seems to be a real groupie.”

“She’s my best friend, too,” I say with a sigh.

“Oh, sorry, no insult intended.”

I take a good look at Thalia. Her black hair falls in soft waves over her shoulders. She’s wearing a dress that has thin pink spaghetti straps and also descends in soft waves to her knees. “We were going to get changed and then go dancing. Would you like to come with us?”

“Definitely. That would be much more fun than staying here and being at the mercy of the paparazzi.” She smiles. “I’ll tell Linden.” She turns around to look over at the group again, and raises an eyebrow as she sees Macey practically throwing herself at him. “Hmm. I’ll just send him a text. He’ll have to come find me anyway; I have the key to our hotel room.”

I laugh softly. “Do you want to come over to my place for a few minutes before we have to be . . . where?” I say, looking over at Jake.

“At the Delano. The cave,” he answers.

“Super, then we can meet there in an hour.”

“Good.” They both nod. Thally and I walk past Downstair Alley and Macey, and to my relief, they don’t notice us.

“Isn’t my dress too fancy for that?” she asks me.

“No, it’s just right,” I say happily. I’m so glad to be going out dancing again.

When Thally and I are at my apartment, she helps me choose an outfit. “What do you think of this one?” she asks me after examining the contents of my closet. She’s holding out a black pleated skirt and a tight red crop top.

“I think the top would look better if I wore my red miniskirt with it.”

We dig through my closet together. “This one?” she says, pulling out precisely the skirt I had in mind.

“Exactly.” I take it from her. “With my red heels, it will be perfect.”

“It would really be perfect if you wore your hair down. That should get the guys lining up.” She smiles.

“Do you think so?”

“I’m totally certain.”

“OK.” I change at top speed, and free my hair from the barrette. It falls heavily over my shoulders, so I grab a brush from my dresser and give it a few strokes.

“How’s that?”

“Great. How about a little more makeup?”

I’m not wearing much makeup, because I don’t like to look like I’m trying too hard, so I shake my head. “I’m fine like this.”

“Sure, you look good anyway. I just thought a little more lipstick or lip gloss wouldn’t hurt,” she suggests. “Can I ask you something?” Thally says.

I nod. “Sure.”

“Have you got something going with Gavin? The guys have been trying to figure it out all evening. I hardly heard your friend singing, they were whispering so much.”

I laugh. “No. There’s nothing going on. He’s dancing with a colleague of mine in the show, and he practices at the dance school where I work. We met, got along well, and now he’s taking my salsa class. I invited him this evening because I like him, but he only seems to have eyes for Macey.”

“Actually, I thought he only had eyes for you, because he kept looking over at you, wishing you’d join us,” she says.

So that’s why I felt like I was being watched. “Then why didn’t he notice that you and I slipped out?” I grin at her impishly.

“Probably because he was too busy looking in the other direction so the guys wouldn’t notice,” Thally says with a laugh.

I like her! She’s so nice and direct, and I really appreciate that in a person. “Maybe we could play a little hide-and-seek with him. I assume Linden’s going to call and ask where you are.”

“Could be, but he hasn’t tried yet.”

“Is your cell phone set on silent?” I ask.

She digs through her bag. “Oh, fuck . . . Sorry. Yes, it is, but I’m turning it on now.” I hear a familiar ping as she flips the switch. I recognize the sound; I have exactly the same model. “Oh, he tried to call twice. I’ll text him to let him know where we are when we get to the Delano. I’ll let him sweat a bit since he ignored me.” She grins diabolically, and I burst out laughing.

“All right, let’s go. I called a taxi ten minutes ago, it should be here any—” The sound of the doorbell interrupts me. “It’s here.” I grab a jacket and slip into it. “Can you dance?”

“I can manage a few standards.”

“Great. The Delano always has theme nights. It’s tango and salsa tonight, because it’s Friday.”

“I can do the salsa. The basic steps, anyway. I’ll just skip the tango.”

I grab my handbag, and we leave the apartment in a great mood and head down the stairs and out to the sidewalk. We get in the taxi, and I give the driver the address of the cave. It’s not really a cave or an underground club, it’s just a nickname. The neon sign has been broken for years, and it’s still hanging there, but you can’t even read it. I just know it as the cave and can’t get used to calling it anything else.

Chapter 4

“Is it always so crowded here?” Thalia shouts over the music.

“Yeah, people want to dance, but it usually thins out a little after midnight. Then they go to other clubs,” I answer.

We stand at the bar while Jake and Rick are dancing with some other girls. Thalia and I want to have a drink before we start getting sociable. I’m holding a vod-bomb, vodka mixed with energy drink, but it’s not a particularly explosive mixture—the barkeep here knows me. It’s just a pinky’s width of vodka, and the rest is filled up with Red Bull and ice. Definitely not dangerous. I didn’t want to drink any alcohol tonight at all, but now I’m feeling kind of frustrated that the evening with Gavin didn’t work out as I’d imagined. Actually, I hadn’t even planned to spend a lot of time with him, but I didn’t think Macey would turn on me like that. My best friend stole the show. I certainly don’t believe he only had eyes for me!

“Linden already texted me a few times!” Thally says as the music stops.

“And what did you tell him?” I ask curiously.

“I told him I’m out dancing with you, and asked him what he wants to do. He wants to come here, and the others do, too. Macey’s coming, too.”

“So what? I think I’ll just go dance, because I’m not going to be doing anything else tonight, anyway,” I say with a grin.

“Maybe you should take me with you.”

“I’m not sure you’ll really be comfortable with all these salsa and tango dancers,” I say.

“I’m here to dance. Linden surely wouldn’t make a scene just because I’m dancing with another guy.”

“That’s optimistic.” I look around. Suddenly I feel a vibration in my handbag. I pull out my cell phone and see a text from Macey:
I knew you’d be at the cave, we’ll be there in five minutes.
I sigh. “They’ll be here in five minutes, so let’s go dance.” I give my handbag to my friend Guiseppe, the barkeep who I’ve known for years, and he puts it under the bar for me. “You can give him your bag, too, then it won’t disappear,” I tell Thalia.

“Cool.” She passes it over the bar.

Guiseppe winks at me. “You know Carlos and Costa over there, Lane. If you two want good partners, dance with them.”

“Which ones are they?” Thalia wants to know.

“Over there in the corner,” I answer and wave at Carlos, because he’s checking me out.

“I see them. Maybe I’ll just wait here for Linden, I’m really not into Latinos.”

I give her an irritated look.

She bites her bottom lip. “Sorry, that sounded kind of racist, but I really didn’t mean it that way. I just don’t like how a lot of them act like they’re God’s gift to women.”

My eyebrows go up a notch. “OK, then I’ll go dance now. See you.” I take one last sip of my drink and make my way over to Carlos.

“Hey, beautiful.” He grins.

I giggle. “Hey, dance god. Will you do me the honor?”

“Of course, but let’s wait for a tango,” he says. “Would you like a drink?” He puts a glass in my hand. He and Costa always drink Jack and Coke, mostly Jack, so I know I’d be totally sloshed if I accepted. That’s why I put it down on the table. “Thanks anyway, Carlos, but I’d do better with a Coke.”

He smiles and takes a sip of the drink that I just put down. “No problem, Lane.”

A tango starts playing, and I look at him expectantly. “Shall we?”

“I just need to drink something first, Lane,” he answers.

I look over at Costa. “How about you?”

He jumps up immediately. “My pleasure.” Then he laughs. Costa looks like the perfect tango partner. He’s tall, tanned, muscular, and intelligent, which is what I find most attractive in men. Not to mention his thick black hair, shining green eyes, sculpted face, and carefully cultivated three-day beard. Costa takes my hand and leads me onto the dance floor, which is now a little less crowded. Probably most people don’t tango, so there’s more space for us. We start to move to “On This Night of a Thousand Stars,” with steps that start out gentle and slow and then become more aggressive. After the first turn, I lean into his body. We dance a mixture of the international tango and the tango argentino, which is more passionate.

At the end of the song I bend backward until only Costa’s arm is holding me up. All that’s missing is the rose in my teeth. A salsa song begins, and we glide effortlessly into the next dance. We separate during the dance and solo for a while, but we never lose track of each other. All around us, the other dancers are stopping to watch as we come together again and take up where we left off. We use all the space they’ve left us, and have a lot of fun. The great thing about Costa is that he’s also a professional dancer. He’s the national champion in the Latin category, and damn good. There’s no one better, at least not in this country. We end our salsa with a lift, and he throws me up in the air with a spin, so I do a one-eighty and land in his arms again. Costa lets me glide down gently, and I stretch my right leg up and he swings me up again. As the song ends, he catches me in his arms. There’s thundering applause.

“Thanks for the wonderful dance, Lane,” he whispers in my ear. “But now I have to go get a drink.”

“Would you like to dance?” a young guy I’ve never seen here before asks me. I haven’t been here for a while.

“Sure,” I say, and smile at Costa. “Come back when you’re not thirsty anymore.”

“I will, beautiful.”

I giggle, and dance with the guy who asked me. This time there’s no audience, we’re surrounded with other dancing couples.

After several more dances with various partners, including Costa again, my throat starts to feel dry. I go to the bar and find Macey, Thalia, and Downstair Alley. “Can I have a vod-bomb, Guiseppe?” I call over the music.

“Right away!” He says good-naturedly.

I turn around and see they’re all looking at me. “What’s up?”

Macey reaches for my hand and pulls me a little away from the others. “Why are you doing this?”

“What do you mean?” I have no idea what she wants from me.

“I make sure that Gavin McLeod can come with you to my premiere, and then you run off and dance so hotly with Costa that everyone thinks you’re about to jump each other’s bones right on the dance floor. Are you crazy?”

My eyebrows shoot up. “Since when has it been a problem for you that I dance with my friends?”

“Since you made me look totally stupid by running away from my premiere,” she snaps.

“Macey, you were busy and we were getting bored, that’s why we came here. Besides, you don’t have to pretend everything wasn’t fine before you started fawning all over Gavin and his friends like an underfucked groupie. Even Linden’s girlfriend was pissed off by your behavior.”

Her jaw drops open, but no sound comes out.

I sigh. “Sorry for the harsh words, but they’re necessary. Don’t complain if I want to have fun with my real friends instead of some temporary superstars.”

“Are you saying I’m superficial?”

“Did you say hi to Jake or Rick this evening?”

“No.”

“Ha! That’s because you only have eyes for Downstair Alley, and not for your real friends. Those guys won’t even remember you in a week, but Jake, Rick, and I will. But you still have to tell me I’m wrong to have my fun with people I care about, don’t you?” I say determinedly, and turn away from her. I get my drink from Guiseppe, go to a corner of the club, and lean against the wall. It’s not actually quiet, but there aren’t so many people there. Macey has totally ruined my mood. She’s acting like my babysitter, but she was the one who said I should have some fun. Then I do, and she doesn’t like it.

“Hi, Lane,” Jonah says. I’d know his voice anywhere.

I raise my eyes from my glass and look up at him curiously. “Hi.”

“Your dancing was amazing.”

“Thanks.”

“Will you practice with me next week?” he asks.

“It would be pretty pointless not to, since we’ve scheduled all those contests.”

He leans forward and rests his hand on the wall next to me. His steel-gray eyes wander over my outfit. “I haven’t seen you wearing those things in ages, but you still look totally hot in them.”

“Umm . . . Thanks.”

Jonah bends closer. “How many times have I told you that you don’t have to thank me for stating a fact?” he whispers in my ear, making my skin rise in goose bumps. I still react to him much too strongly. The bastard knows very well how easily he can get to me.

I push him away, or at least I try to, but he’s just too heavy for me. “Jonah, we broke up, remember?”

“I know, and I regret having left you.” I feel his breath on my cheek.

“Cut it out!” I say resolutely.

“What’s wrong with you, baby?”

“I’m not your baby anymore, Jonah, so get out of my face.”

Someone clears his throat. “Lane, is everything OK?” It’s Gavin.

“Yeah, it’s fine. You can go back to the others.” I look at Jonah again. “I said, get out of my face.”

“Give me one more chance, Lane.”

I shake my head.

“You heard the woman, she wants you to leave her alone, so leave,” Gavin says with a threat in his voice.

Jonah pulls himself up to his full height, but it’s not enough to top Gavin. “Who asked for your opinion?”

“No one, but I can’t stand it when a woman is being hit on when she already asked to be left in peace,” Gavin replies.

Jonah grins at me over his shoulder, and I know exactly what’s going on in his head, so I immediately place myself between the two of them. “Stop it, both of you.”

But my ex shoves me aside and tries to swing at Gavin. Gavin feints, catches Jonah’s fist, and holds it tight. “That’s enough.”

I push myself between them again. “End of it. Jonah, just leave. I’ll see you next week, and we can talk. And you”—I look Gavin in the eye—“shouldn’t mix in if I say everything’s fine.”

My darling ex tries to shove me away again, but this time I don’t let myself get pushed so easily. “Cut it out, Jonah!”

He looks at me angrily. “We’ll talk about this next week, and about us,” he says, then bends down and kisses my cheek. “See you, Lane.”

Shaken, I watch him as he leaves.

“I just wanted to help you,” Gavin says.

My eyes wander back to him. “I can manage fine by myself, but thanks anyway.”

He snorts. “But he’s right, you really do look hot.”

I sigh heavily. “Thanks.”

“Are you angry?”

“Yeah, but not at you . . . I should just go home,” I answer and try to walk past him, but he stops me.

“Why do you keep dropping me?” His gaze speaks volumes, doubt and confusion are written there, but I can’t even explain it to myself.

“Why did you kiss me like that this morning, and then drop me?” I counter. There’s always a fine line between being caught and falling. OK, my collision with the ground was more painful than his—he just had to wait around. The worst part for me was the embarrassment.

“Because . . .” Gavin shakes his head. “Can I drive you home?”

“No, I’ll take a taxi, thanks. I still have to say good-bye to my friends.”

“I could come with you.”

I smile bitterly. “It would be kind of ridiculous if I walk through the place with a babysitter, don’t you think?”

“Maybe a little.” He grins. “Then I’ll see you when you come to get your jacket and bag. Thally said you gave them to the bartender.”

I nod. “OK, Gavin.” Without waiting for his answer, I go looking for Jake and Rick, and find them sitting at a table. “Hey. Are you having fun?”

“Yeah, but we came over here when Macey arrived with her teen dreams.” Rick laughs.

I laugh, too, and sit down with them. “I actually came to say good-bye. I just had an encounter with Jonah that blew away my good mood. I don’t feel like dancing anymore.”

Jake pushes his drink over to me. “Have some of this, then you’ll feel better.”

“What is it?” I ask, eyeing the green fluid skeptically.

“Blue curaçao with OJ. Try it, it’s good.”

I take a cautious sip, and then another. “Just finish it, Lane,” Jake says, and takes my vodka.

I drink it. After my little interlude with Jonah, Gavin’s intrusion, and my argument with Macey, this is an evening to forget. The easiest way to do that is to take Jake’s advice.

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