Keep (Seaside Pictures 2)

I laughed. “Until you, the only thing I think I’d ever typed into the search engine was how to not fail biology.”

“Too bad I didn’t know you last year. I could have rocked that course for you.”

I warmed all over with awareness. “Yeah, I’m sure.”

“And what does the tour name have to do with anything? With me?”

My eyebrows shot up. “Zane, the hashtag #zanewatch has been trending for the past year. And the pictures associated, you kissing girls, you touching girls, them touching you, with more hashtags of confessions, even the girls who have been with you say you’re the best they’ve ever had.”

He burst out laughing.

“What!” I laughed with him. “I mean I’m sure it’s good for your ego.”

“You have no idea, how good. Gives a man confidence and all that.” His head fell back as he laughed harder. “Wow, those little liars.”

I frowned, my smile fading. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t know, Fallon. I mean, who knows, you may tell your grandchildren one day…”

I slugged him in the arm.

“Ouch!” He chuckled darkly as I kept pounding him in the arm. “Fine, fine, I’ll confess one sin, but you have to confess one first.”

“Ugh, you suck.”

He winked.

This was why Zane was magnetic, why people were obsessed, because he made you feel like you were his world, not just a part of it. “Okay, my confession is—”

“Make it good or it doesn’t count,” he sang in a taunting voice.

I shushed him and closed my eyes.

“Oh wow, things just got real folks, the eyes are closed.”

I burst out laughing and then took a deep breath. “Okay, my confession,” I stole a peek at his expression, he was leaning forward expectantly. “I’m terrified of animals.” I sighed. “I mean that’s not why I don’t eat them, but seriously, they terrify me, birds, bees…” I shuddered. “Antelope.”

“Who the hell is scared of an antelope?”

I cringed. “They have horns.” I pointed to my head and made a gagging noise. “And I mean, it’s just not normal, the look animals get in their eyes. Like they know things.”

His expression sobered and then he burst out laughing so hard a tear fell down his face.

“Okay, that’s it.” I tried to stand. “We can’t be friends anymore.”

“Sit down.” He tugged my arm, but I wasn’t able to catch myself, so instead I fell against his chest, my legs sliding on either side of his body in a perfect straddle.

I shuddered.

Ugh, my physical response to him was ever so helpful.

His grin grew as I felt his arousal through his skintight jeans.

Sorry, Grandma.

Sorry that I loved the feel of him.

That I loved the fact that it was me! I did that to him.

To Zane Andrews.

He moved his hips a bit.

I clenched my teeth so I wouldn’t moan and make a complete fool out of myself, as he braced himself with his elbows and leaned upward. “My turn?”

I nodded.

He locked eyes with me, a flicker of emotion crossed his face, emotion that looked like doubt—fear. “It’s not real.”

“What’s not real?”

“I’m Saint, care to confess your sins?” he asked in his dark, sultry voice. Then he shrugged, completely back into character. “The girls. The tweets. The pictures. The photo shoots. If people see that I’m that way, then I control it, they want the sinner with the name of saint. They don’t want the guy who goes home early after concerts and works or crashes, they don’t want the guy who watches reality TV and eats too many marshmallows. The world demands good guys—yet the good guys never win. The bad guys? The monsters? The alphas? The players? They’re glorified, we glorify them. Therefore, my agent created a persona, and I went with it, because it works for my brand, it works for me, but it’s not really me.”

I frowned. “So none of it is real? But there are pictures and—“

“You see what I want you to see. You see what my brand wants you to see, a guy who loves women possibly too much, who relishes in the bad, and looks so damn good doing it, it must be okay. You see Saint Andrews, the popstar.”

“Then who are you? Really?”

He hesitated, then reached up and brushed a kiss across my cheek. “Zane Andrews, the virgin.”

Chapter Twenty-Two

Fallon

WAVES CRASHED INTO THE rocky shore. Seagulls screeched in the distance.

I stared.

“Are you going to pass out or something?” Zane whispered, “Because my other confession is I don’t know CPR well enough to save you from the birds before they start feeding off your cute little body.”

I gasped and then stumbled backwards with a horrified expression. “I’m the most horrible person on this planet.”

“Fallon—”

“I am.” Tears clogged in my throat. “I just assumed, like everyone else, and you let me, but I mean what were you supposed to do and—” My head pounded, and I struggled for breath. “I’ve been basically accusing you of being a complete slut to your face for the past two weeks.”

He winced. “Right, but in your defense, you didn’t know.”

“No!” I stood and started pacing. “Don’t take it easy on me. I’ve always taken pride in being one of those people, the kind that don’t judge, that just accept people as they are, but I’m a complete hypocrite!”