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.I ll always tell you the truth. That sounds well, it sounds really good to me.It s nice to feel like I m& Wanted? Zane interjected. Cause you are.Trust me. Likewise, there was a smile behind the words, but you probably already knew that. How would I? Zane asked lightly, eyes narrowing in the dim light.If this was dumbeddown to him being famous, he was going to be seriously disappointed.With fame, sure, he knewhe was wanted, but he was almost always certain that it wasn t him that was wanted, but theimage of him.There was a big difference between the two.The image of him was make believe. Well, maybe we should start with how my legs seem to go jellyfish in your presence?Hmm? Or need I bring up the kiss? No words of celebrity.The relief was enough to make Zane dizzy. I ll happily talk aboutkissing you.I look forward to giving it another go sometime when I can really do it right. Mark s low laugh had Zane s foot tapping restlessly against the floor mat.He glanced backout the window and saw that they were already in his neighborhood and his mood fell.He cursed softly. We re almost to my house, he told Mark reluctantly. I have to get insideand change. Is break a leg the right sentiment, or& ? I ll take it. Zane tugged his shoulder bag closer to his body and reached for his wallet, counting cash absentmindedly. Call me anytime you want.I ll be out of commission tonight,but I ll let you know what happens. Give em hell, man.I ll talk to you soon. After Zane hung up, he couldn t move even though the car was sitting in his drive waiting forZane to punch on the key fob that opened his gate.When they pulled up as close to his door aspossible, he lowered the privacy window and asked if Robert was waiting for him while hechanged to take him to Jenny s. Yes, sir.I ll help you with your bags. No need, Zane stopped him. Pop the trunk and I ll grab them.I have to clean up anyway,might as well get rained on. His suitcase snagged on part of the trunk opening, so his whole head ended up under a streamof water running down from the roof as he wrestled it out.It was cold as hell and made Zanewant to sit down on his driveway and mope until his next birthday; maybe just give up on theday.When he pushed through the heavy front doors, his house was quiet in that echoey sort ofway that was like an announcement of how alone he was.No one s here.You re alone& alone& alone&His keys clattered on the entryway table and he threw his stuff down and half-heartedlykicked it out of the way.Deactivating the alarm, the front room light came on automaticallywhen he stepped inside on his way to the kitchen.He was thirsty and pissy and hungry in thatorder.The fridge was stocked with water bottles and produce that was starting to look a littlewithered in spite of the crisp air.Zane grabbed an apple and cracked into it thinking he d betterget some real food in his stomach if he wanted to avoid snapping someone s head off or end upsloshed off of one drink.He wondered if it was weird that he actually ate the apple under the hotstreams of water in his shower.Two birds with one stone, he supposed.At least he waited tosoap up until he d finished and thrown the core out into the trash can across the room.He dressed in one of his favorite Gucci suits that rocked out a sweet vintage jacket in darkblue wool.It was warm and it stood out and that was important tonight.Paired with a crisp whiteshirt and skinny black tie, he looked like he d put a lot more effort into dressing than he reallyhad.Being able to buy quality clothes was something he really didn t hate about his lifestyle.Itwas an awful feeling to go to a party with your suit pants riding up your ass crack the whole time which he d experienced.His old stylist dragged him to a tailor and handed him the world in apair of pants that didn t turn his balls into balloon animals.Zane never looked back at the oldcrap he used to buy.On his way out the door, he grabbed another water from the fridge and drank half of it.Keys,cash, phone and he was gone. CHAPTER SEVENIt was almost eight thirty and Christian was on the prowl again.All day he d been lookingand not once had he even caught a glimpse of Mark.Not on the beach, not at the jet ski huts, notwind surfing.He didn t know how good or bad that was because he also hadn t seen the damnactor that everybody at the bar couldn t shut up about last night.Poor Mark& he d been draggedthrough the crowd, nearly clocked by a chick with her camera phone, and then surrounded untilWhitlow allowed a couple pictures to be taken.The whole time Mark had stood in thebackground looking sort of dazed.Christian watched it all happen.He would ve liked to interfere, too, but his legs were full ofJim Beam and he couldn t have made it over if he tried.At least, not without tripping on air.But,even three and a half sheets to the wind, he saw the look in Mark s eyes.Like he was lost orrealizing what kind of attention he might be getting simply by spending time with a guy thateverybody knew.Mark came across bewildered and hesitant and that would show in every singlepicture that the people in the crowd had been taking.That shit would end up in some tabloidbefore Mark s vacation was even over.They were holding hands for hell s sake.Christian wasn t going to give up though.There was something that was welling up insidehim and he didn t know if it was his secrets looking for release (lame), or the knowledge of anopportunity to tell someone who wouldn t judge him right into the fiery pit (not so lame).Whenhe looked at Mark, his brain started a running loop: No one knows me.No one knows me.Mark could though.He could know who Christian really was.While he d been seeking out Mark all day, he d been avoiding his best friend.WheneverKyle was around he felt oddly exposed.Ever since Christian lost the bet, his friend was watchinghim, tracking his movements when Mark was on the scene and the uneasiness it created hadChristian wondering if maybe he hadn t hidden the truth as well as he thought.And he ddefinitely buried that shit deep under bikini models, girls from bars and parties, one nightstands.Hell, he d even had sex with a girl in the same room as Kyle at some frat party, but Kylehad never seen him do anything that would make him question Christian s sexual preference.There was no way.But the staring, the searching looks and unreadable gaze were screwing withhis mind.And for all the women that he d slept with over the years the faces that blended togetherinto a blurred mass of eyes, lashes, lips there was only the one time with a guy.A memory herarely brought up to himself, it rattled him so much.Nothing with a woman could surpass itever.Cabo.After graduation from college.A bar with music thumping.Chicks in strips of cloththat were supposed to count as skirts were prancing around in four-inch heels pouring shots andblowing these damn whistles before they handed over the vile tasting liquor.Yet, he didn t evenhave the excuse of being drunk for what happened
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