Belonging (34 page)

“Not surprising, given what we now
know,” he said.

“What do you mean?”

“Didn’t you see the news
this morning? I mean, you basically
are
the news right now, but didn’t
you hear what else has been going on?”

“No. What happened?”

“Jax was arrested. One of his lovers,
this nineteen-year-old guy from New Jersey, came forward and said
Jax had been sleeping with him since he was sixteen, then filed
assault charges because Jax smacked him around. Apparently the guy
accumulated a ton of incriminating photos, texts and emails, which
he gave to the cops.”

“Oh my God,” I muttered.

“You really dodged a
bullet.”

“Sounds like it. Is the
nineteen-year-old okay?”

“Yeah. He’s pissed off more than
anything. He said he was tired of being Jax’s dirty little secret,
and tired of being his punching bag. I was proud of him for coming
forward.”

“Me too, and I’m glad he wasn’t
seriously injured,” I said.

“Yeah, that guy will be alright. Jax,
not so much. His career is toast, and he’ll probably serve time in
jail unless his lawyers work a miracle.”

“I’m surprised I hadn’t heard about
this.”

Chance leaned back, crossing his ankle
over his knee, and said, “That dick should be grateful to you and
your boyfriend. Since Tillane’s reappearance is such big news, it’s
diverting the headlines away from him. Otherwise, all the major
news outlets would be airing Jax’s story
twenty-four-seven.”

“It’s scary how wrong I was about Jax.
I never suspected he was like that.”

“He really had you fooled,
huh?”

“Me and everybody else. It’s like Zan
said, Jason was a better actor than anyone gave him credit
for.”

“Apparently.”

We talked about Jax for a couple more
minutes before I said, “So tell me, how’s everything with you?
How’d that photography class turn out?”

Chance sighed. “Not great. I ended up
with a B, I found out this morning after my last assignment was
graded. The teacher had all kinds of criticisms about my technical
skills and didn’t feel I progressed enough during the
class.”

“I really hope you’re not letting that
discourage you.” He shrugged and I said, “Come on, Chance, your
work is brilliant!”

“It’s really sweet of you to say that.
Christian said the same thing, but I know you guys are just being
nice.”

“We’re being honest. You have an
incredible eye! I was blown away when I saw the photos you took at
Vincent and Trevor’s wedding. Please don’t let some random junior
college instructor get to you.”

“Easier said than done.” Chance pushed
to his feet and changed the subject. “Alright, give me your
shopping list and I’ll go find the grocery store. I’m not sure if
it’s open late and I want to get this done today.”

I got up too and handed him the list
I’d prepared. “First thing tomorrow there’s a prescription to pick
up. The pharmacy’s closed now, but it’ll open at nine. It’s under
the name Alex Lane, in case I forget to tell you later.”

“Alex Lane?”

“Zan uses that name when he wants to
remain incognito.”

“Got it.”

“Thank you again, Chance. I’m really
grateful that you’re helping us out.”

As he put the shopping list in his
pocket, he said, “I still can’t believe how your life changed
overnight. What’s it like, being the boyfriend of an international
pop superstar?”

I said as I walked him to the door,
“Well, I’d be lying if I said the whole paparazzi thing and
everyone suddenly knowing my name didn’t freak me out a bit. But
it’s all worth it, because in return I get to be with
Zan.”

“Wow. You’re so totally into this
guy.”

“That’s putting it mildly. He’s
completely extraordinary. He keeps surprising me, not just with the
grand gesture of showing up at the airport, but with little things,
like when he tried to bake muffins for me this morning.”

Chance grinned. “Tried to?”

“They were bizarre. I don’t know what
exactly he substituted for eggs, but my God no. All that matters
though is that he tried. It was so sweet of him.”

After Chance took off, I slipped under
the covers with Zan. He rolled over right away and gathered me in
his arms. His eyes were closed and I thought he was asleep until he
murmured, “Olive oil.”

“What?”

His lips curved into a grin. “That’s
what I used in place of eggs in my woeful muffin
attempt.”

“They were good.”

“Liar. The word you used was bizarre.”
He was still smiling, and raised one lid slightly to peek at
me.

“They were both good
and
bizarre. The olive
oil added a certain savoriness that one might not necessarily
expect in a blueberry muffin. But that could be the start of a new
culinary trend.”

“Because that’s likely.”

“Shame on you for eavesdropping, by
the way,” I said before kissing the tip of his nose.

“Couldn’t help it. I was just lying
here minding my own business when your lovely voice wafted in to
me.”

“You think my voice is lovely?” I
asked.

“I think all of you is
lovely.”

I grinned at that and said, “I’m sorry
I woke you from your nap with my allegedly lovely but apparently
far too loud voice.”

“I’m glad you woke me.”

“You are? Why?”

Zan smiled again and rolled on top of
me. “Three guesses.”

Chapter
Seventeen

“This was a mistake.”

I turned to look at Zan, gripping his
hand a little tighter, and said, “We don’t have to stay if you
don’t want to.”

We’d returned to his house in Marin,
having left Tahoe that morning after five blissful weeks spent
getting to know each other. Zan had also been working with a
therapist during that time, who drove up twice a week from
Sacramento. She was kind and gentle, not really pushing for
solutions, but just letting him talk through his fears and concerns
about returning to life in the public eye. He thought it was
helping, but said he also knew he had a long way to go.

It was my thirtieth birthday, and Nana
had a celebration planned that evening at a small hotel in
Sausalito. It was good motivation for leaving Tahoe and beginning
the next chapter of our lives. We couldn’t keep postponing the
inevitable. As much as we’d loved our time at the cabin, it had
been high time to relinquish it to its owners and return to
reality.

The closer we’d gotten to the house,
the quieter Zan had become. Once inside, he just froze up. We’d
been rooted outside the door to the den for a solid minute, the
epicenter of his world for over a decade. He said softly, “What if
I get stuck again? I don’t want to go back to being that person. I
can’t do that to you, and I can’t do it to myself,
either.”

We’d talked about finding someplace
new, but the house was ideal for many reasons, including a degree
of privacy that was rare in the Bay Area. We were still at the top
of the paparazzi’s most-wanted list, even though the initial fervor
had died down. Life felt almost normal again, but we both knew the
last few weeks had just been a temporary reprieve. The moment we’d
try to do anything in public, it would all start up
again.

“Do you want to leave?” I asked him.
“We don’t have to do this.”

“I’m being daft,” he said. “I just
need to shake it off. This is the perfect place for you and me.
What else would we do, check into a hotel and spend every day
dodging the paparazzi? Move in with your gran and throw your
family’s life into turmoil again? Sure, we could buy another house,
but that’d take weeks. What would we to do in the
meantime?”

“We could figure something
out.”

Zan chewed his lower lip for a few
moments, then stepped forward and closed the door to the den. “I
just need to get a grip. There’s a lot more to this house besides
that one room. Come on, let’s go take a look.”

I’d never been in the spacious master
suite. It was sparsely furnished with sturdy wood furniture in the
same masculine style as the rest of the house, and the centerpiece
was a massive four-poster bed. The room also had high ceilings and
a wall of windows with a pair of glass doors in the center,
providing a sprawling view of the surrounding hills. “See? This is
good,” he said. “We can make this work.”

Zan crossed the room and opened the
double doors. Immediately, fresh air filled the stuffy room. I
found some crisp, white linens in an armoire and made the bed, then
pushed my shoes off, climbed on top of the covers and held my hand
out to him. He’d been staring at the view from the large balcony,
but came to me as soon as I did that. He sat on the edge of the bed
and took off the hiking boots I’d lent him, then climbed up beside
me and drew me into a hug.

“Are you sure about this?” I asked.
“If not, we can figure out a place to stay while we do some house
hunting. If we go a little further north, we’ll probably find
places with open space and privacy. It’ll just take some
looking.”

“But we already have that, right here.
My initial reaction when I saw the house again was panic, but it’s
better in here since I never used this bedroom. Let’s make this
work.”

“You sure?”

He nodded and kissed my shoulder. “I’m
sorry, Gianni. We should have come back here a couple days ago so
I’d have time to adjust, not on your birthday. The last thing I
wanted was to cast a shadow on your big day.”

“You haven’t,” I said as I leaned back
against the pillows and he put his head on my chest.

“I’ve been really worried, not just
about returning here but about the event tonight. What if the
paparazzi show up and disrupt everything?”

“They won’t. Not only is Nana bringing
in security, she rented out the entire hotel. The manager assured
her we’ll have plenty of privacy.”

“Hopefully.”

“I kind of wish Nana had just stuck
with a small party at home,” I admitted, “but she’s been planning
this for months and is so excited. It’ll be fine, though. It sounds
like the hotel staff is used to hosting celebrities and will make
sure this goes off without a hitch. On top of that, Dante’s
security team will be on hand. There’s nothing to worry
about.”

“I’m sorry that something as
straightforward as a birthday party had to turn into a major covert
operation.”

“
It’s alright.”

“It isn’t really,” Zan murmured. He
was quiet for a while before saying, “Security was always a big
concern back when I was performing, but I was surrounded by people
at all times, my agent, publicists, bodyguards, assistants, the
list goes on. Even though I didn’t like the pressure of having an
entourage, it did mean I was pretty well insulated. But now, I feel
so vulnerable. I’m not concerned about myself, I’m worried about
keeping you safe.”

I knew he wasn’t just talking about
the paparazzi. Granted, they could be really aggressive, but there
were bigger concerns as well. While we were in Tahoe, he’d opened
up to me about the negative side of fame, the overzealous fans,
straight-up psychopaths, and even the death threats that he’d had
to endure. I knew all of that weighed on him, and that he really
did worry about me far more than he worried about
himself.

“We don’t have to go tonight, not if
you don’t want to,” I told him as I stroked his hair. “I don’t want
this to be too much pressure on you.”

“You’re the guest of honor, love. Of
course we have to go.” Zan sat up and said, “I need to stop this.
It’s your birthday, and I’m dragging you down with my fretting. I
really am sorry.”

“There’s no need to apologize. I know
you’re feeling a lot of pressure today, both from returning here
and because tonight will be the first time you’ve gone out in
public since the airport. It’s perfectly
understandable.”

“I think I’ll feel better after a hot
shower. That long drive from Tahoe didn’t do me any
favors.”

“That’s a good idea. Mind if I join
you?”

“I’d love that,” he said with a
bashful smile.

I went to find the toiletry bag in our
luggage, then joined him in the bathroom. It was enormous, as was
the tile shower, which included half a dozen shower heads at
various heights. We stripped down and got under the warm water,
then just held each other for a while. I could feel some of his
tension falling away, his body relaxing in my arms. “See?” Zan
said. “There’s a lot to recommend staying in this house, including
this shower. I’d forgotten how nice it was, though that’s due to
the company more than anything.”

I grinned at that and squeezed some
shampoo in my hand, then began washing his hair. “I should be doing
that for you,” he said. “You’re the birthday boy.”

“So, you can go next. I love doing
this for you,” I murmured as I massaged his scalp.