" … Martin started taking pictures of them. Said he thought they looked cute together and Jennifer would like a … " Jules winces. "A souvenir."
"Fucking hell."
"Yeah," she agrees quietly. "Anyway, Jax suddenly threw up. On Jennifer."
She pauses, and our eyes meet. I can't help but smile a little. Jules does too.
"Go on," I say, fighting that smile.
"She runs, gets caught by Sophie, who apparently detained her, demanding to know what was going on, and tried to drag her back to the scene."
My Sophie. She'd acted as I would have. Guilt settles in my throat like shards of glass.
"Jennifer broke free, and presumably that's when you found her in the elevator."
"Yes." It had been an unwelcome surprise to discover a hysterical, vomit-covered woman in the elevator when the doors opened. Killian and I had stared at her in shock before snapping out of it and delivering her directly to a security guard manning the area.
With a sigh, I sit back in my chair. I ache. All over. And I know it is from sorrow. "Relay all of this to Killian and the rest of the guys." Since I know full-well Killian will have told them everything by now. "I don't want them thinking badly of Sophie."
It hurts to say. It hurts to even think. Sophie hadn't understood that the mere idea of them disliking her would be a wound in my heart. She's too important to me for there to be discord.
Jules nods. "And Jennifer?"
"She's out. Give her two weeks severance and a ticket home."
"I'm guessing not in first class?" Jules's joke falls flat. And her smile dies. "Too soon?"
Not bothering to answer, I stand and squeeze the back of my stiff neck. "And go over the NDA she signed. Make certain she understands the repercussions if she talks."
We both turn at a noise from the living area. Sophie stands at the threshold to the dining room. Her hair hangs damp and limp around her shoulders. She appears smaller somehow, diminished. The light has gone out of her pretty eyes.
I did that to her. My heart thumps in my chest, pushing against my ribs, which squeeze tight at the sight of her.
"Sophie. We were finishing up here."
"Yeah, I see that." She sounds like a ghost of herself.
Dimly, I'm aware of Jules leaving. I only have eyes for Sophie, however.
Silence ticks by. I take a step in her direction, but her voice stops me.
"You were right. I don't belong on this tour. It's no longer fun for me."
"Fun?" The word is like a slap to the face.
"Yeah, fun. You know that concept you have a hard time embracing?"
I wince.
And she winces too. "I'm sorry. That was shitty. I didn't mean it."
"You wouldn't have said it if you didn't mean it," I say quietly.
Her eyes narrow. "So you meant every word you said to me then?"
There's a trap here. I can see it laid out, waiting for me to fall into. Only I have no idea how to circumvent the damn thing.
"I shouldn't have shouted at you," I say. "I regret being so … " Vicious. "Aggressive."
"But you don't regret what you said." A flat statement.
Irritation flares. "What do you want me to say, Sophie? We had words. All couples fight." And then they make up. Why can't we get to the make up part of the program?
Apparently, we aren't anywhere near that segment.
Her expression goes colder. "Couples trust each other."
"This again? You lied to me," I bite out. And that hurt me. Somehow that is harder to admit.
"And I apologized," she snaps.
I should let it go. I know this. "You lied to me about someone who … fuck all, Sophie. He's been inside you."
I don't even know what I'm saying, only that the thought of him being with Sophie turns my stomach and makes me want to pummel something.
Her mouth falls open. "You're jealous? Of Martin?"
Her voice saying his name sets me off. "More like disgusted by your life choices."
Shit.
She gasps. I can't take the words back.
"Sophie … I didn't-"
"First I'm immature, now I'm disgusting?"
"You are not disgusting." I take another step toward her. "I spoke out of turn. I am a jealous prat. I didn't expect to be, but I am."
I move closer. If I can just get to her, simply hold her, things will be all right. They have to be.
But she holds up a hand, warning me off. "Look, I'm going to stay with Brenna tonight."
This is wrong. She shouldn't go. "You should stay."
A bitter smile pulls at her lips. "But I don't want to."
I swallow so hard it hurts. "Oh."
Brilliant rejoinder. Bloody brilliant.
She makes a noise in her throat as if she's thinking the same thing. "Like I said, I don't want to stay on the tour either."
My body strains toward hers. "Why?" It sounds more like a plea than a question.
She huffs out a toneless laugh. "Jesus, you can't be this thick. You gave me an ultimatum. Either grow up or get off the tour. And by what I've heard from you tonight, all this is moot anyway. And you know what? I don't want to grow up. Not if it means being coldly clinical like you, so I guess I'm out."
She grabs the bag I'm only now seeing and heads for the door. My feet are rooted to the ground. I have to force them to move, to follow her. I feel hollowed out and numb. My head pounds with her angry words.
"Wait," I say.
She doesn't turn. "You know," she says. "I like you just as you are, faults and all. But you clearly don't accept me for who I am."
"That's not true!" I'm walking faster now. But she's already at the door, opening it. "Sophie."
She pauses, but still doesn't look my way. "Leave me alone, Gabriel. I've reached my limit tonight. I can't talk to you any more."
Give her space. That's what men are supposed to do when a woman requests it, aren't they? I don't know. I've never had a woman I wanted to call my own before. It feels wrong, but I've done everything wrong at this point. So I shove my protests aside.
"All right. Good night, Sophie."
"Goodbye."
The door shuts with a soft click, and I am alone.
Sophie
Just get to the door. Just get out of the room and then you can lose it.
He lets me go with a softly offered, "Good night." As if he hasn't just torn me apart all over again.
As if he hadn't just told Jules I was out. No first class this time? Well, fuck you and your first-class tickets.
A sob tries to break free, and I hold it in by sheer will. My feet propel me down the hotel corridor, but my body is throbbing with this horrible, dull pain. He fired me? And then acted like it was all on me?
I should have thrown it in his face. But I'm so hurt, so shocked. I don't know what to say. I can't think properly. I thought he loved me. True, he never said the words, but every look, every action … That was love. It had to be.
And yet here I am again, coming in second to a man's business needs. It wasn't as if I didn't have warnings this time. I knew Gabriel put the band above all things. But I had hoped there was equal room for me.
I make it to Brenna's room. My knuckles feel brittle as I knock on her door.
The second she opens it, I start to cry.
"Honey," she says, pulling me in. "Honey."
Everything that happened comes out of me like word vomit. And she holds me, letting it all flow.
"He did what?" she shrieks when I tell her about Gabriel ordering Jules to fire me.
"He told her to remind me of the fucking NDA I signed," I say bitterly.
"No." Brenna shakes her head. "No way. That is not the man I've seen with you. He's crazy about you, Sophie."
I wouldn't have thought so either. A sigh shakes me. "I heard him." I walked in just in time to hear those orders loud and clear.
"You have to talk to him. Because I cannot believe it."
She guides me to a chair as I shake my head. "I just talked to him. I said I was leaving the tour, and he let me go."
Why didn't he come after me? Tell me that he loves me? Is that what I want? I'm so battered and tired of the whole thing, I can't think straight. I only know that I hurt, and I miss him. Even when I want to hit his stubborn, thick head, I miss him. Life is an empty road if he isn't on it beside me.
I hate this weakness. Being in love is akin to losing my mind and having my heart flayed open all at once. It sucks.
"Look," Brenna says gently, "you two have had a bad night. Let it settle and discuss it in the morning." She grows quiet and then bends her head to peer at me. "You really want to leave the tour?"
It occurs to me then that she's not just a friend. She's my boss.
"I'm sorry," I say, twisting my fingers. "It isn't just Gabriel. Killian wouldn't look at me tonight. Logically, I don't blame them. But it was as if all that we've been through means nothing." I shake my head. "And call me a wuss, but I just want to go away and lick my wounds in privacy for a while."