Entwined with You: A Crossfire Novel (Crossfire Book 3) (22 page)

“Brett—”

“I know it’s tough with me being on the road—”

“And based in San Diego,” I pointed out.

“—but I can make it out here often enough and you can always meet up with me, see some new places. Plus, the tour ends in November. I can come stay out here for the holidays.” He looked at me with those green eyes of his, and the attraction hummed between us. “Your dad’s still in SoCal, so you’ve got more than one reason to come out.”

“You’d be reason enough. But, Brett … I don’t know what to say. I’m in love with him.”

He crossed his arms and looked exactly like the wickedly delicious bad boy he was. “I don’t care. It’s not going to work out for you with him, and I’ll be around, Eva.”

Staring at him, I realized nothing would convince him but time.

Brett stepped closer, then reached out to run his hand down my arm. He stood over me, his body curved into mine. I remembered other times we’d stood like this, the moments right before he pressed me back against something and fucked me hard.

“It’s only going to take once,” he murmured in my ear, his voice sinful as always. “One time inside you and you’ll remember how it is between us.”

I swallowed past a dry throat. “That’s not going to happen, Brett.”

His mouth curved in a slow smile, revealing that decadent dimple. “We’ll see about that.”

“I can’t believe they’re so much hotter in person,” Ireland said, looking over at where the guys were doing their prelaunch interview with the TV show host. “You, too, Cary.”

He smiled, his teeth dazzlingly white. “Well, thank you, darlin’.”

“So …” She looked at me with those blue eyes that were so like Gideon’s. “You used to date Brett Kline?”

“Not really. Honestly, we just used to mess around.”

“Did you love him?”

I thought about that for a minute. “I think I was close, maybe. I could have fallen in love with him under different circumstances. He’s a great guy.”

Her lips pursed.

“What about you?” I asked. “Are you seeing anyone?”

“Yes.” Her lips twisted ruefully. “I really like him—a lot—but it’s weird, because he can’t let his parents know he’s dating me.”

“Why not?”

“His grandparents lost most of their money to that scheme Gideon’s dad ran.”

My gaze went to Cary, whose brows were lifted above the line of his shades.

“That’s not your fault,” I said, angry on her behalf.

“Rick says his parents think it’s ‘convenient’ that Gideon is so rich now,” she muttered.

“Convenient? They think it’s
convenient
?”

“Angel.”

I turned around at the sound of Gideon’s voice, not having realized he’d come up behind me. “What?”

He just stared at me. I was irritated enough that it took me a minute to note the hint of a smile on his face.

“Don’t start,” I told him, narrowing my gaze in warning. I turned back to Ireland. “Tell Rick’s parents to look up the Crossroads Foundation.”

“If you’re done being offended for my sake,” Gideon said, coming up so close behind me that he brushed up against me, “they’re about five minutes from starting the video.”

My gaze searched out Brett, who’d rejoined the crowd, and found him waving me over.

I looked at Cary.

“Go on,” he said with a jerk of his chin. “I’ll hang here with Ireland and Cross.”

I headed over to the band, smiling when I saw how excited they were. “Big moment, guys,” I said to them.

“Ah, well.” Darrin grinned. “This whole event was set up just to get us on this TV show and Internet simulcast. It was the only way Vidal could get them to give us any coverage. Let’s hope it pays off, because fuckin’ A, it’s hot as hell out here.”

The host announced the exclusive premiere of the video, and then the screen switched from showing the logo of the show to the start of the video and the first chords of the song began.

The black screen suddenly lit up, revealing Brett sitting on a stool in front of a mic in a puddle of light, just as he’d been at the concert. He began to sing, his voice deep and rough. Crazy sexy. The effect his voice had on me was powerful and immediate, just as it’d always been.

The camera slowly backed away from Brett, revealing a dance floor in front of the stage where he sang. There was a crowd dancing, but they were cast in black and white while a lone blonde was strikingly colored.

I stilled as shock spread through me. The camera was careful to film only her backside and profile, but the girl was undeniably meant to be me. She was my height, with the same hair color and style as mine before I’d recently cut it. She had my curvy butt and hips, and her profile was similar enough to mine to understand immediately who she was meant to be.

The next three minutes of my life passed in a horrified daze. “Golden” was a sexually charged song and the actress did all the things Brett sang about—dropping to her knees for a Brett lookalike, making out with him in a bar restroom, and straddling his lap in the back of a
classic ’67 Mustang just like the one Brett owned. Those intimate memories were intercut with shots of the real Brett still singing onstage with the rest of the guys in the band.

The fact that actors were playing us helped me deal with it a little better, but one glance at Gideon’s stony face told me it didn’t matter to him. He was seeing one of the wildest times in my life relived before his eyes and it was very real to him.

The video ended with a shot of Brett looking soulful and tormented, a single tear sliding down his cheek.

I pulled away and faced him.

His smile slowly faded when he got a good look at my expression.

I couldn’t believe how personal the video was. I was freaking out that millions of people were going to see it.

“Wow,” the host said, leaning into the band with mic in hand. “Brett, you really put yourself out there with this. Was it the song that brought you and Eva back together?”

“In a roundabout way, yeah.”

“And Eva, did you play yourself in the video?”

I blinked, realizing he was outing me as
the
Eva on national television. “No, that’s not me.”

“How do you feel about ‘Golden’?”

I licked my dry lips. “It’s an amazing song by an amazing band.”

“About an amazing love story.” The host smiled into the camera and rambled on, but I tuned him out, my gaze searching for Gideon. I couldn’t spot him anywhere.

The host talked to the band a bit more and I wandered away, searching. Cary came up to me with Ireland in tow.

“Some video,” he drawled.

I looked at him miserably before my gaze slid over to Ireland. “Do you know where your brother is?”

“Christopher’s schmoozing. Gideon left.” She winced apologetically. “He asked Christopher to take me home with him.”

“Damn it.” I dug in my purse for the burner phone and typed out a quick text: I love you. Tell me you’ll c me 2nite.

I waited for a reply. When it didn’t come after a few minutes, I just held the phone in my hand, willing it to vibrate.

Brett ambled up to me. “We’re done here. Wanna bail?”

“Sure.” I turned to Ireland. “I’m out of town the next two weekends, but let’s get together after that.”

“I’ll keep my schedule open,” she said, hugging me hard.

Turning to Cary, I caught his hand and squeezed it. “Thanks for coming.”

“Are you kidding? I haven’t been this entertained in a long time.” He and Brett did some complicated handshake. “Good job, man. I’m stoked for you.”

“Thanks for coming. We’ll catch you later.”

Brett set his hand at the small of my back and we took off.

G
IDEON DIDN’T SHOW
up at Tableau One.

In a way, I was grateful, because I didn’t want Brett thinking I’d planned the interruption. Outside his long-term hopes for our relationship, Brett was someone who’d been important to me in the past and I wanted to be friends with him, if possible.

But I was preoccupied with imagining what Gideon was thinking and feeling.

I picked at my dinner, too unsettled to eat. When Arnoldo Ricci stopped by to say hello, looking very dashing and handsome in his white chef coat, I felt bad that so much of his fine food was still on my plate.

The celebrity chef was a friend of Gideon’s. Gideon was a silent partner in Tableau One, which was the reason I’d chosen the restaurant. If he had any doubts about how the dinner with Brett would go, he’d have people to ask that he trusted.

Of course, I hoped Gideon would trust me enough to believe
me
, but I knew our relationship had its issues and our mutual possessiveness was just one of them.

“It’s good to see you, Eva,” Arnoldo said with his lovely Italian accent. He pressed a kiss to my cheek, then pulled out one of the empty chairs at our table and sat.

Arnoldo extended his hand to Brett. “Welcome to Tableau One.”

“Arnoldo’s a Six-Ninths fan,” I explained. “He came to the concert with Gideon and me.”

Brett’s lips twisted ruefully as the two men shook hands. “Nice to meet you. Did you see both shows?”

He was referring to the brawl he’d had with Gideon. Arnoldo understood. “I did. Eva is very important to Gideon.”

“She’s important to me, too,” Brett said, grabbing his frosty mug of Nastro Azzurro beer.

“Well, then.” Arnoldo smiled. “
Che vinca il migliore.
May the best man win.”

“Ugh.” I sat back in my chair. “I’m not a prize. Or I should say: I’m no prize.”

Arnoldo shot me a look. Obviously he didn’t wholly disagree with me. I didn’t blame him; he knew I’d kissed Brett and had seen the effect it’d had on Gideon.

“Is there a problem with your meal, Eva?” Arnoldo asked. “If you liked it, your plate would be empty.”

“You serve big helpings,” Brett pointed out.

“And Eva is a big eater.”

Brett looked at me. “You are?”

I shrugged. Was he catching on to how little we really knew about each other? “One of my many flaws.”

“Not to me,” Arnoldo said. “How did the video show go?”

“I think it went well.” Brett searched my face as he answered.

I nodded, not wanting to spoil what was supposed to be a celebratory
time for the band. What was done, was done. I couldn’t fault Brett’s intentions, only his execution. “They are well on the road to megastardom.”

“And I can say I knew you when.” Arnoldo smiled at Brett. “I bought your first single on iTunes when it was still your only single.”

“Appreciate the support, man,” Brett said. “We wouldn’t have made it without our fans.”

“You wouldn’t have made it if you weren’t so good.” Arnoldo looked at me. “You will have dessert, won’t you? And more wine.”

As Arnoldo settled back in his chair, I realized he intended to fill the role of chaperone. When I glanced at Brett, I could tell from his wry smile that he caught that, too.

“So,” Arnoldo began, “tell me how Shawna is doing, Eva.”

I sighed inwardly. At least Arnoldo was a babysitter who was fun to look at.

B
RETT’S
hired driver dropped me off at my apartment a little after ten. I invited Brett up, because I couldn’t see any way to avoid it that wasn’t rude. He took in the exterior of the building with some surprise, as well as the night doorman and the front desk.

“You must have a smokin’ job,” he said as we walked toward the elevators.

The clicking of heels on marble chased after me. “Eva!”

I cringed at the sound of Deanna’s voice. “Reporter alert,” I whispered, before turning around.

“That’s a bad thing?” he asked, turning with me.

“Hi, Deanna.” I greeted her with a strained smile.

“Hello.” Her dark eyes raked Brett from head to toe, and then she thrust her hand at him. “Brett Kline, right? Deanna Johnson.”

“A pleasure, Deanna,” he said, turning on the charm.

“What can I do for you?” I asked her as they shook hands.

“Sorry for interrupting you on your date. I didn’t realize you two were back together until I saw you at the Vidal event earlier.” She smiled at Brett. “I take it there’s no harm done from your altercation with Gideon Cross?”

Brett’s brows rose. “You lost me.”

“I’d heard you and Cross exchanged a few blows in an argument.”

“Someone’s got a big imagination.”

Had Gideon talked to him? Or had media training taught Brett the pitfalls to avoid?

I hated that Deanna had been nearby earlier, watching me. Or, more accurately, watching Gideon. He was the one she was fixated on. I was just easier to access.

Her answering smile was brittle. “Bad source, I guess.”

“It happens,” he said easily.

She turned her attention back to me. “I saw Gideon with you today, Eva. My photographer got some great shots of you two. I stopped by to ask you for a statement, but now that I see who you’re with, would you comment on the status of your relationship with Brett?”

She directed the question at me, but Brett stepped in, grinning and flashing that dazzling dimple. “I think ‘Golden’ says it all. We’ve got history and friendship.”

“That’s a great quote, thanks.” Deanna eyed me. I eyed her right back. “Okay. I don’t want to hold you up. I appreciate your time.”

“Sure.” I caught Brett’s hand and tugged it. “Good night.”

I hurried him to the elevators and didn’t relax until the doors closed.

“Can I ask why a reporter’s so interested in who you’re dating?”

I glanced at him. He was lounging against the handrail, his hands gripping the brass on either side of his hips. The pose was hot and he was undeniably sexy, but my thoughts were with Gideon. I was anxious to be with him and talk to him.

“She’s an ex of Gideon’s with a grudge.”

“And that doesn’t send up any flags for you?”

I shook my head. “Not like you’re probably thinking.”

The elevator arrived on my floor and I led the way to my apartment, hating that I had to walk by Gideon’s to get there. Had he felt like this when he’d spent time with Corinne? Weighted with guilt and worry?

I opened the door and was sorry that Cary wasn’t hanging out on the couch. It didn’t even seem like my roommate was home. The lights were off, which was a strong indicator that he was out. He always left lights on in his wake when he was around.

Hitting the switch, I turned in time to see Brett’s face when the recessed ceiling fixtures lit up the place. I always felt weird when people first realized I had money.

He looked at me with a frown. “I’m rethinking my career choice.”

“My job doesn’t pay for this. My stepdad does. For now, anyway.” I went to the kitchen and dropped my purse and bag off on a bar stool.

“You and Cross hang in the same circles?”

“Sometimes.”

“Am I too different for you?”

The question unsettled me, even though it was perfectly valid. “I don’t judge people by their money, Brett. Do you want something to drink?”

“Nah, I’m good.”

I gestured toward the couch and we settled there.

“So, you didn’t like the video,” he said, laying his arm over the back of the sofa.

“I didn’t say that!”

“Didn’t have to. I saw your face.”

“It’s just really … personal.”

His green eyes were hot enough to make me flush. “I haven’t forgotten one thing about you, Eva. The video proves that.”

“That’s because there wasn’t a whole lot for you to remember,” I pointed out.

“You think I don’t know you, but I bet I’ve seen sides of you Cross never has and never will.”

“That’s true in reverse.”

“Maybe,” he conceded, his fingers tapping silently into the cushion. “I’m supposed to fly out at the butt-crack of dawn tomorrow, but I’ll catch a later flight. Come with me. We’ve got shows in Seattle and San Francisco over the weekend. You can head back Sunday night.”

“I can’t. I have plans.”

“The weekend after that we’re in San Diego. Come there.” His fingers slid down my arm. “It’ll be like old times, with twenty thousand extra people.”

I blinked. What were the chances that we’d be home at the same time? “I’ve got plans to be in SoCal then. Just me and Cary.”

“So we’ll hook up next weekend.”

“Meet up,” I corrected, standing when he did. “Are you leaving?”

He stepped closer. “Are you asking me to stay?”

“Brett …”

“Right.” He gave me a rueful smile and my heart raced a little. “We’ll see each other next weekend.”

We walked together to the door.

“Thank you for inviting me along today,” I told him, feeling oddly sorry that he was going so soon.

“I’m sorry you didn’t like the video.”

“I do like it.” I caught his hand. “I do. You did a great job with it. It’s just weird seeing myself from the outside, you know?”

“Yeah, I get it.” He cupped my cheek with his other hand and bent in for a kiss.

I turned my head and he nuzzled me instead, the tip of his nose rubbing up and down my cheek. The light scent of his cologne, mingled with the scent of his skin, teased my senses and brought back heated memories. The feel of his body standing so close to mine was achingly familiar.

I’d once had a mad crush on him. I had wanted him to feel the same way about me in return and now that he did, it was bittersweet.

Brett gripped my upper arms and groaned softly, the sound vibrating through me. “I remember how you feel,” he whispered, his voice deep and husky. “On the inside. I can’t wait to feel it again.”

I was breathing too fast. “Thank you for dinner.”

His lips curved against my cheek. “Call me. I’ll call you no matter what, but it’d be nice for you to call me sometime. Okay?”

I nodded and had to swallow before speaking. “Okay.”

He was gone a moment later and I was running to my purse for the burner phone. There was no message from Gideon. No missed call or text.

Grabbing my keys, I left my apartment and hurried to his, but it was dark and lifeless. I knew the moment I entered that he wasn’t there without having to check the artfully colored glass bowl he emptied his pockets into.

Feeling like something was very off, I headed back to my place. I dropped my keys on the counter and went to my room, heading straight for the bathroom and a shower.

The unsettled feeling in my stomach wouldn’t go away, even as I washed the stickiness and grime of the hot afternoon down the drain. I scrubbed shampoo into my scalp and thought over the day, growing angrier by the moment because Gideon was off somewhere doing whatever, instead of being home with me working things out.

And then I sensed him.

Rinsing soap out of my eyes, I turned and found him yanking off his tie as he stepped into the room. He looked tired and worn, which troubled me more than anger would have.

“Hey,” I greeted him.

He watched me as he stripped with quick, methodical movements. Magnificently naked, he joined me in the shower, walking right into me and pulling me into a tight embrace.

“Hey,” I said again, hugging him back. “What’s the matter? Are you upset about the video?”

“I hate the video,” he said bluntly. “I should’ve screened the damn thing when I realized the song was about you.”

“I’m sorry.”

He pulled back and looked down at me. The mist from the shower was slowly dampening his hair. He was infinitely sexier than Brett. And the way he felt about me—and I felt about him in return—was infinitely deeper. “Corinne called right before the video finished. She was … hysterical. Out of control. It concerned me and I went to see her.”

I took a deep breath, fighting off a flare of jealousy. I had no right to feel that way, especially after the time I’d spent with Brett. “How did that go?”

He urged my head back with gentle fingers. “Close your eyes.”

“Talk to me, Gideon.”

“I will.” As he rinsed the suds from my hair, he said, “I think I figured out what the problem is. She’s been taking antidepressants and they’re not the right prescription for her.”

“Oh, wow.”

“She was supposed to let the doctor know how they were working out, but she didn’t even realize she’s been acting so bizarre. It took hours of talking to her to get her to see it, and then pinpoint why.”

I straightened and wiped my eyes, trying to stem my growing irritation over another woman monopolizing my man’s attention. I couldn’t discount her making up a problem just to keep Gideon spending time with her.

He swapped places with me, sidestepping under the shower spray. Water coursed down his amazing body, running lovingly over the hard ridges and slabs of muscle.

“So what now?” I asked.

He shrugged grimly. “She’ll see her doctor tomorrow to discuss getting off the pills or switching to something else.”

“Are you supposed to walk her through that?” I complained.

“She’s not my responsibility.” His gaze held mine, telling me without words that he understood my fear and worry and anger. Just as he’d always understood me. “I told her as much. Then I called Giroux and told him, too. He needs to come take care of his wife.”