Gavin: Pure Passion (Hamptons Book 1) (14 page)

“I inherited it from him.”

“Oh, awesome.” It’s the exact same model and black color as the one Dean Winchester drives in
Supernatural
. I love this car, and even back then I loved riding around in it. Most people don’t appreciate a classic like that, but I do. As soon as Pax opens the door for me, I climb into the passenger seat and lean over to unlock the driver’s side. Then I lean back. I take a deep breath and enjoy the scent of the fine leather. It’s evident that Pax changed the seat coverings and tweaked a few things. I fasten my seat belt.

“All right then.” He turns on the motor and starts driving.

“It’s incredible what you’ve done with this baby,” I tell him approvingly.

“Thanks. My dad always wanted to revamp it, but he couldn’t do it, which is why I spent weeks trying to make it the way he would have wanted it.”

I lay my hand on his arm. “You did great.”

“I appreciate the compliment . . . So where are we going?”

I tell him the address, which is why he makes a U-turn the first chance he gets. I’m glad I remembered to fasten my seat belt, or I would have been thrown around pretty badly.

“Huh, he lives in a pretty fancy area.”

“I know, but that’s the thing with celebrities.”

“I don’t know him, so I’ve never heard of him. Is he the aloof type?”

“Not at all. I think he’s pretty modest.”

“Do you know for sure?”

“Well, not really.”

He answers with a chuckle.

“What’s so funny?”

“You really need to get to know him better before you start something bigger with him.”

I laugh quietly. “We’ll see if I’m going to at all.”

“You’re crushing on him so hard that you will. I’ve known you longer than anybody else has, Lane, I know it.”

I cock an eyebrow before returning my gaze to the road. “We’ll see.”

“Wow, this place looks safer than Fort Knox.”

I giggle at his cliché. I was thinking the same thing when I was here yesterday. “I guess they don’t want to be disturbed.”

“Uh-huh, the singing boys might be kidnapped,” he says drily.

“That would be a catastrophe for millions of fans,” I reply. “I can get out here so you don’t have to drive all the way.”

“The gate’s just opening now, so I’ll take you to the doorstep and then I’m off.”

“OK.”

Pax keeps driving, and I take a look at the road lined with trees that flank us.

Five minutes later we reach our destination. “Should I come pick you up tonight?” Pax asks.

“No, I need to go to rehearsal with Jonah directly after, and I still need to call him to pick me up.”

“All right then. And when are we meeting to go shopping?”

“Friday?” I suggest.

“OK. Friday three o’clock?”

“Sounds perfect. See you then, Pax.” I lean over and give him a light kiss on the cheek.

“Take care, Lane.”

“You, too.” Then I get out and walk to the door. As I’m about to knock, it opens. Gavin, who happens to be wearing a dark expression, is standing there. “So you’re finally here,” he says.

“A good day to you, too,” I retort. “May I come in?”

He pushes the door open all the way and leans on it with his hand. “Sure thing.”

“Thanks.” I slip inside underneath his arm. “Are we practicing upstairs again?”

He nods. “So what’s the plan for today?”

“We’re doing lifts, but don’t worry, they’re not the kind where I might land wrong, like Julie. And spins.”

Gavin slams the door so loudly that I jump.

I wait for him to pass me, but he stops at the stairs. “After you, Lane.”

At that, I walk past him up the stairs. No idea what that was all about, but I’m certainly not complaining.

“Ah, here’s the hot dancer again.”

I roll my eyes as I hear Azer’s voice. I don’t know why he’ll only call me “the dancer,” but I find it annoying that he calls me hot, too.

Finally we’ve reached the practice room. I’d prefer it if we could practice at the local dancing school, but we probably wouldn’t get a second of peace there. He’s the most well-known participant this season by far. There’s also a former and a current NASCAR race driver, actors, authors, and two musicians who want to boost their career again. On Saturday I’ll only be practicing for the competition, and I also need to get to the city on Friday afternoon for the dress rehearsal. Dammit! I’d forgotten it’s on Friday, and I really need to tell Pax. Worst-case scenario, I’ll tell him to come to New York and spend the night at my place, then we won’t need to drive back here. Best to do it right away. I get my cell phone out of my purse. “I need to make a quick phone call and get dressed, and then we can start.”

“Sure thing,” he replies as he takes off his hoodie.

My jaw drops because he’s wearing nothing under that, apart from his super attractive abs. “I’ll . . . I’ll just be . . . in . . . in the next room,” I stutter, turning away.
Oh my God. That bastard!
I take a deep breath after closing the bathroom door behind me and dropping my purse. That sight has been etched forever into my memory. Again! In my head I can still see his hoodie disappearing, uncovering his muscular chest and the fine gold chain with a cross on it. I chase away the persistent images with a shake of my head and call Pax.

“That was fast,” he says as he takes the call.

“Hey, yeah, sorry. I just remembered that I have the dress rehearsal on Friday.”

He sighs. “Are you canceling our shopping tour?”

“No. I was going to ask you if we could drive to the city together and if you’ll spend the night at my place. We could drive back together on Saturday.”

“Sounds good. Are we still meeting on Friday at three?”

“The dress rehearsal starts at three, which is why we’d have to leave here around noon to be there on time,” I say sheepishly.

“I’m supposed to stay at the shop ’til two, but I can ask John if he’ll let me off early, or if Carrick can manage the afternoon on his own.”

“All right. Take care of that and call me back, OK?”

“Will do,” Pax replies. “Talk later, have fun swinging your booty.”

I giggle. “Later.” Then I hang up and get dressed as quickly as I can. Once again I’m wearing my black practice outfit, but this time the leggings are missing because I forgot them at home in my room. After I put my phone in my purse again, I leave the bathroom.

Gavin’s leaning on the mirror when I emerge. My gaze fixes on him and starts moving over his muscles, but I force myself to look away.

“Spins and lifts. You sure?” he says.

“Yes, I’m sure. I was thinking a bit yesterday, and I decided it’s better than dancing some boring step sequence. And anyway, you want to make progress, don’t you?” I reply.

“I’d like to win the show, but I wouldn’t mind getting kicked out that much, either.”

“I want to win because that means I get a salary bonus,” I inform him.

“Fine, then we’ll just have to get our sh—”

“Don’t say it,” I warn him.

“Shit together,” he teases me with a mischievous smile.

“Well thank
you
.” I walk over to the ballet barre across from the mirror. “Have you done your warm-up yet?”

“I just got back from working out, so I don’t need to.”

“What were you doing?”

“Some bench presses, and then I went jogging with Alexis.”

“OK.” I lay my leg down on the barre and bend over until my nose touches my shin. Then I bend back.

“Are your bones made of rubber?” he asks with wonder.

“Not quite, but I’m more flexible than others since I’ve been dancing for ages now.”

“But not completely flexible.” He chuckles.

I set my hands down on the floor and rise up into a handstand. “Maybe not, but until now no man has ever complained to me that I’m too stiff,” I tease him and take up posture. “Shall we?”

“Sure.”

“We’re dancing with music today.” I walk over to the ghetto blaster that’s standing on a small table and put on a CD. “We’ll dance a slow rumba.”

“I thought they wanted a fast one.”

“No, a slow one.”

“Please, let’s dance a fast one. I found a great song that would fit perfectly,” he complains.

“OK. Where’s the CD?”

Gavin walks over to join me. “You just put it on. I bought the CD when I was on tour in Germany, because I liked the cover.”

I glance at the CD.
Lemon Ice
is written there, and
I raise my eyebrows. I’ve never heard of that artist, but that might be due to the fact that some musicians are really successful in Germany without ever releasing anything in the United States.

“I thought we could dance to ‘Stand by Me,’ too.” Gavin starts the song and I listen as he starts singing along.

“I know you’re musically inclined, but you should probably leave that out on Saturday.”

“Why?”

“Because you have to smile, or make an appropriate expression during the dance.”

“And what’s appropriate for rumba?”

“Well, you should avoid grinning like a fool like you did the last two weeks, that doesn’t fit with the whole rumba thing.”

“Why not?”

“Because this is an emotional, passionate dance. You can look sad or unhappy or in love, but not like this.” I give him a wide smile while I dance the basic step. Gavin laughs. “Can’t you see how stupid that looks?” I want to know.

“I can. It was Julie’s advice.”

I roll my eyes. “Let’s do this.”

He puts the song on repeat before coming over to me. We take up the basic pose, and I correct the position of his leading arm. “Ow.”

“That’s good; that means you’re holding your arm right.”

“You’re such a dictator,” he snorts with amusement.

I glance at him expectantly. I want him to take the first step and take the lead. That’s his job as a man.

Finally he takes the first step. I pay attention to his posture and hips. “Work your hips more,” I demand with a smile as he stretches out his leading arm and I spin. “It’s working almost perfectly now to fall back into the basic step. Are you ready to try the lift?”

“How does it work?”

“You grab me here,” I say, pointing at my hips, “and then you lift me up so I can basically do a split in the air.”

“Now?”

“When you feel ready. First we’ll perfect the spins and your hip movement, and then we can do the lifts.”

“All right.”

I spend an hour helping Gavin to move his hips the right way. All I want is to get into the next show; I’m not pretending I have a big chance to win yet. This way, at least I won’t be disappointed.

After we’ve listened to the song for the twenty-second time, Gavin detaches himself from me. “Is that enough now?”

“Yeah, you’ve got it now.”

“Am I allowed to try the lifts now?” he asks with a chuckle.

“Absolutely not.” I walk over to the machine and turn off the music. I can hear his footsteps, and then I feel his warmth on my back.

Gavin wraps his arms around me and lays his head on my shoulder. “I miss you, Lane.”

“But I’m here,” I say, confused.

“No, the Lane I know isn’t here. All I see is a professional dancer hiding her feelings.”

“We need to practice,” I reply.

He strokes my stomach. His hands travel up to the edge of my breasts and touch them with the thumbs. “Why do you shut me out?”

“Why can’t you take no for an answer?”

“Because I don’t want to give up on people who are important to me,” he murmurs and kisses me lightly on the earlobe.

“I’d like to practice, Gavin.”

“And I’d like to finally find a way into your heart,” he whispers.

“That’s it. Let me go.”
Oh man, what is this? I’m just trying to do my job in peace without making out.

He won’t let me go, instead he turns me around and looks into my eyes. “Why don’t you want me?”

“I already explained that to you,” I sigh and lower my gaze, which brings his muscles back into my focus. That’s why I look back up at him.

“And I’m not satisfied with your explanation. Lane, I’ve . . . never been this attracted to a woman, please give me a chance.”

If he keeps looking at me like that, I’m going to cave. “You’re going to hurt me like all the others. I don’t want to . . . be destroyed like that.”

Gavin cups my face in his hands. “I would never hurt you.”

I bite my lip, but he pulls it back out with his thumb. “We’re too different.”

“Opposites attract,” he murmurs.

“I’m not up for some Cinderella story, Gavin,” I whisper.

“It won’t be. You haven’t lost a shoe.” He smiles at me.

“You’re on the go a lot.”

“So come with me.”

Does he have to have an answer to all my objections? “I . . .”

“Yes?”

“I really like you, but this won’t work.”

“Why not, Lane?”

“Because I . . . Oh man, just accept that I don’t want to try this!” I shout at him, momentarily courageous.

He gazes into my eyes for a moment, and then he bends down, kissing me fiercely, passionately. I grab his wrists to pry him off me, but he backs me gently against the wall, and my resolve starts crumbling. It’s so unfair that he has this effect on me.