Gavin: Pure Passion (Hamptons Book 1) (21 page)

“It’s Linden’s,” Gavin answers, glancing over his shoulder. “But we usually all hang out here together when we’re in town. It’s nicer than sitting around in a hotel room.”

“So why did you sell the penthouse in New York?”

“Because we were there so rarely after getting the house in the Hamptons.” He points at one of the doors. “This is your room.”

“What do you like better, New York or the Hamptons?” I ask curiously as we enter the bedroom.

“I feel best at home in Orlando, and I’ll probably be spending more time there once the show is over. Living with the guys is nice, but I miss my family.” Then he glances at me. “But I haven’t decided yet since I got closer to you, if I’ll stay with the guys.”

“It’s no good, though, if you don’t feel right.”

“Home is where the heart is, and mine is with you. I feel at home wherever you are, Lane.” He sets my luggage down next to the bed and turns around to face me.

“Does that mean you’d stay for me?”

Gavin sighs and tousles his dark brown hair. “I don’t know yet. What I’d like to do is go to Orlando, because my friends who I see rarely are waiting for me there, but I also don’t want to put such a big distance between us.”

“But you’re constantly on tour anyway, whether you’re in the States, Europe, or Asia . . . There will always be a big distance between the two of us, except for the few weeks when you can get some time off,” I point out.

“That’s why I think it’d be great if . . .” He shakes his head. “No, I can’t ask that of you.”

“What are you talking about?” I ask, confused.

Then he approaches me. “Come to Orlando with me.”

I raise my eyebrows.

“I said it was a dumb idea.”

“No, it’s just . . . It would mean rushing things. Let’s try it a different way first. I don’t know anybody in Orlando, and I don’t want to throw away all I’ve done in New York.”

“So what do you have in New York anyway?”

I look at him as though he’d just hit me. “My friends?!”

“So?”

“My family lives pretty close.”

“And?” he keeps pressing. “You won’t have a job once the dance show is over. All you have is your ex who you occasionally perform at tournaments with. I . . . could offer you the life you deserve, Lane, not just the little island fate has prepared for you . . . I could give you the whole world.”

I swallow, gritting my teeth and pressing my lips into a thin line. “Why don’t you just go ahead and tell me I’m a loser?” My voice is getting more quiet and shaky than I wanted, but I can’t change that anymore now.

“That’s not how I meant it, babe, I just want you to be happy.”

“I’m happy with the way things are now, Gavin.”

He wants to pull me into his arms, but I take a step back, which makes him click his tongue impatiently. “Oh, come on, Lane, don’t be angry at me now.”

“I’m not angry.”

“So what’s your problem?”

“You hurt me,” I answer quietly, turning away from him and walking over to my bag.

“That was never my intention,” he murmurs, suddenly standing behind me.

“For that, it sounded very intentionally worded.” Tears are burning in the corners of my eyes. If the person you love tells you that you have nothing except for your friends, that hurts. My friends make me richer than any billionaire could be. They’re there for me, they’re important to me, but all he can see is himself. It’s just egotistical.

“I’m sorry, babe,” he replies, slowly turning me around to face him.

I tilt my head back so I can look up at him. Before I have a chance to say something, he bends down to kiss me. It’s not a tender kiss, but a hard, demanding one, and he’s probably trying to show me he’s the boss in this relationship. As it starts to hurt, I pull away. “We should talk about this later,” I say quietly, turning back to my bag to get out my hairbrush. “Where’s the bathroom?”

“I think you have your own,” he replies, walking over to a door on the right side of the bed. “And what’s hiding behind door number one?” He opens it. “Look, it’s the bathroom.” Gavin smiles at me and steps aside as I walk toward it. “I’ll put away my luggage and wait for you downstairs. You can’t miss the living room, it’s to the left of the stairs when you come down.”

“Right . . . See you soon,” I reply, shutting the door behind me.

It still bothers me that he basically said that my life isn’t as important as his, so the first thing I do is lean on the counter and take a deep breath. “How could he say that?” I ask my reflection, and notice I still have tears in my eyes. Luckily I don’t have any makeup on or I’d look like Rocket Raccoon from
Guardians of the Galaxy
. After taking a deep breath, I wash my face to get rid of the tears and cool my puffy eyes. Then I comb my hair and pull it into a high ponytail. With a critical glance at the mirror, I see that I don’t look like I was about to cry just two minutes ago. Sighing, I turn away and leave the bathroom, picking up my handbag to go downstairs. I can already hear the guys laughing even though I’m barely halfway down the stairs.

“What happened to Lane?” I can hear Alexis’s voice.

“She’ll probably be here in a sec,” Gavin answers.

I hurry up, taking the last few steps a little faster, and I suddenly feel pain shoot up from my knee.
Dammit,
I curse in my head. These are probably the first signs of wear and tear from years of dancing. Or I just came down with my foot wrong, which seems more likely to me. “Hey, sorry I took a little longer.”

The guys get up and walk toward me. “No problem, it’s just that Thally’s getting a little impatient,” Linden explains with a grin.

“How long since you’ve seen each other?” I ask.

“Since meeting you,” he answers.

“Looks like it’s going to be a loud night,” Alexis says with a mock sigh.

“Watch out, or you’ll be spending yours outside.”

He lifts his hands defensively. “I’m actually pretty glad I won’t be in the same room as you two.” Then he laughs.

Linden rolls his eyes. “You know what I mean.”

“Sure, but it’s too much fun ribbing you about it.” Alexis grins at him.

I walk outside next to Linden with Gavin and Alexis following us.

Linden looks back over his shoulder. “We have to take two cars. Gavin, would you ride with Alexis? I’d probably strangle him on the way there.”

“No problem,” he replies.

“All right, then you’ll be riding with me, Lane.” Linden opens the garage, and I stare in awe as I see an entire row of cars parked there. There’s everything from an old-timer to the newest model there, but I’m particularly attracted to a Jeep covered in flecks of mud.

Linden holds the door open for me and I get inside. “Just pick any car, but keep your hands off the classics.”

“I guess we’ll take the fast one then,” Gavin says with a smile, opening the driver’s side door.

“Are the keys usually left in the ignition?” I ask, confused, as Linden sits down in the driver’s seat.

“Yeah, but only when I’m here.”

I nod slowly. “And you’re not worried about the cars being stolen?”

“The garage is just as thoroughly protected by an alarm system as the house, nothing can happen.” He takes off, waiting for the others to follow. As soon as Gavin has managed to maneuver outside, Linden closes the garage door with a remote control. “Besides, it’s only open when I need a car.”

“Still brave, though.”

“We’re in Coral Gables here, nobody’s walking around stealing cars uptown.” Linden drives on and we lapse into a comfortable silence.

Linden stops in front of a beach house. “We’re here.”

I look back, but I can’t make out Gavin and Alexis anywhere. “Where did the other two get to?”

“They’re probably taking advantage of the fact that they’ve got a fast, shiny sports car under their asses.”

“What do you mean?”

“I guess they’ll be driving around somewhere, heartily ignoring the speed limit,” Linden answers with a chuckle.

“Hmm.”

He opens his seat belt to get out, and I follow suit. “Thally’s friends are all right, a bit crazy maybe, but good people.”

“Sounds fine.” I smile at him as we walk toward the door.

Linden rings the bell and we wait for a moment for someone to open the door. About a minute later, a guy in a baseball cap opens up. “Hey, dude,” he greets Linden, giving him a short hug and then turning to me. “You must be Madeleine then.”

I nod. “Hi, yeah, and what’s your name?”

“Delsin,” he replies, offering his hand.

I shake it and we enter the house.

“Where are the others?” Delsin asks.

“Wearing out my car, I suppose.” Linden grins at us. “Where’s Thally?”

“On the porch with the others, I think.”

“No, I’m in the kitchen with the ladies!” she calls.

Linden laughs quietly. “I’ll go say hi.”

“No need, I’m already here,” she says, giggling and approaching us. She hugs him and he pulls her closer to give her a kiss. I look away because I’m not too crazy about watching them smooch.

“Hi, Linden,” a young woman with auburn hair says.

“Hi, Dale,” he replies after detaching himself from Thalia. “How are you doing?”

“As usual,” she answers, glancing at me. “You must be Madeleine. We’re always so excited to see you and Gavin in the show.”

I offer her my hand. “Yeah . . . Hi.”

“Why are you leaving me alone in the kitchen with all these chores?” a brunette girl asks.

Jeez, how many people are in this place?
I wonder, feeling slightly overwhelmed.

The brunette looks over at me. “Hi, I’m Camille, and you are . . . ?”

“Madeleine,” I tell her with a smile.

“Would you like to help us in the kitchen? Might be a bit more interesting than sitting with the guys, listening to them having deep conversations about sports,” she explains, giggling.

“Sure,” I answer the very moment the doorbell rings again.

“Let’s go then. You, too, Thally!”

Thalia gives a salute and grins at her. “Yes, ma’am!”

We go into the kitchen while Linden and Delsin stay behind in the hall.

“I have to say, I’m kind of envious of how beautifully you can dance,” Camille tells me.

“It’s all I ever did, I guess that’s why.” I take a stool at the kitchen counter as she motions me to. There are a few trays of Jell-O in front of me.
Why would they make so much of it?

“So how are you and Gavin getting along?” Thalia inquires.

“Normally, I suppose. I bug him to make him learn faster, but there’s not much more going on between us,” I say, acting clueless.

“Lane, Lane, Lane. You might be able to convince the guys, but not us. We can see the spark between you, even though we’re not there in person,” she teases me.

I take a deep breath. “Is it so obvious?”

“For every woman,” Dale adds. “So, is it going well?”

“Well, we’re kind of trying to make it work. It’s hard to act like we’re not together in public.” Gavin was going to tell his friends anyway, so I might as well spill the beans.

“It’s hard for Linden and me to avoid the weirdos, too. There’s always somebody around us with a camera, and they keep assuming we’ve had a fight when one of us is seen in public without the other,” Thalia tells us, sighing.

Should I ask her if she’s having issues with Linden’s fans? I sort of doubt it since Linden was even engaged before he met her. It’s possible nobody was such a bitch to her, but I still ask her, “Did Linden’s fans threaten you?”

She looks at me, taken aback. “No . . . Are Gavin’s fans threatening you?”

I nod cautiously.

“Oh, shit! Did you talk to him about it?”

“No, he only knows that they recently knifed my tires, although I’m not even sure if those were his fans or my colleagues who I recently argued with.”

She gives me a sympathetic look. “You really should talk to him about this, Lane.”

“I know I should, but I don’t want to make him worry.”

I wave off her reasoning with a sigh.

“Are they writing very bad stuff?” Thalia asks, and now her friends are looking at me curiously, too.

“They’re threatening to end me, and . . . well, worse things,” I answer, looking down at the polished wood of the counter.

“You definitely need to talk to Gavin and inform the police,” Thalia tells me seriously.

“You can’t keep putting up with this. Gavin should know he has such sick fans,” Camille chimes in.

“Amen to that,” Dale agrees.

“Whose fans are sick?” a woman’s voice asks, and I turn around. Two blondes are standing in the doorway. One light blonde, the other darker. “Please don’t let Holly and me die without being in on this,” the one with the lighter hair pleads.

“Gavin’s fans. Madeleine’s having a bad time with threats from some manically pubescent bitches,” Thalia answers. “Lane, meet Hailey and Holly.”

“Hi,” I greet them with a shy smile. I wonder who is who.

The light-haired one comes closer. “I see your confusion. I’m Hailey, probably the only single lady here, and this is Holly.”

My smile widens. “Nice to meet you.”

“Where’s Shailene?” Dale asks.