Page 135 of Positively Pricked

Chapter 44

By unspoken agreement, we spent the next couple of days pretending that nothing had happened. As usual, I accompanied him to all of his media interviews, where things went surprisingly okay – at least while the cameras were rolling.

On the rare occasions we were alone, he was even colder than usual, which was fine by me – or at least, that's what I kept telling myself, even as he haunted my thoughts like the nightmare he was.

By midnight on the second night, I was so distracted that I found myself heading toward the hotel bar, looking for a nightcap or, cripes, even a distraction – anything to push Zane Bennington out of my thoughts.

I never did get the nightcap, but Ididfind one heck of a distraction in the form of Tiffany and the senator, who were arguing near the bar's entrance.

I stopped several paces away and tried not to stare as Tiffany practically yelled, "Hey, it wasyouridea!"

The senator was red-faced and disheveled, with his tie askew and his bald head shining with perspiration. He said, "I wanted you to get close to him. Not hump him in the damn elevator!"

Woah.

Him?Meaning Zane?

That wasmyguess.

I only prayed I was wrong. My own conflicted feelings aside, I was tired of explaining away Zane's bad behavior. Just within the past two days, I'd received nearly a dozen inquiries from reporters wanting to know why Zane and Maven had gotten into a screaming match in the Skyroom restaurant.

My answer? "No comment."

Normally, I used that phrase when I knew the information, but for whatever reason, couldn't reveal it. This time, however, I truly didn't know.

Obviously, the so-called screaming match had occurred sometime after I'd stormed off, leaving the two of them to enjoy each other's dubious company.

Other than that, I knew nothing. Why? Because Zane wasn't talking, and I wasn't asking.

But Ididknow one thing. Zane wasn't the screaming type, which led me to believe that Maven had been the one who lost her temper.

Good.

If nothing else, it was heartening to know that I wasn't the only one who'd had a crappy time that night.

Yes, Iwasthat petty.

In front of me, Tiffany and the senator were still arguing, even as a small crowd began to form around them. Tiffany thrust out her chest and said, "Hey, I can't help it if men find me attractive."

The senator was looking a little unsteady, even as he told her, "You were half-naked for Christ's stake."

"I was not," she insisted. "It was a wardrobe malfunction, just like I said."

Oh, brother. This again?

It was the same excuse she'd used at Zane's party, when they'd been caught in the alcove, doing who-knows-what.

The senator said, "Wardrobe malfunction, my ass."

In that particular moment, I felt a strange sense of kinship with the guy. The statement was, oddly enough, the exact same thingIalways thought when hearing that ridiculous excuse.

Tiffany said, "Yeah? Well, your ass is covered in fur, so I'll thank you not to mention it."

The senator looked ready to pop. "What?"

"I'm just saying, it's hairy. You ever think of waxing it?"

As the senator sputtered out some incoherent reply, I glanced around. It was a weekday night, which meant that the place wasn't nearly as crowded as it could've been.