I type him a text.

Kyra: Hey, great concert!

The moment it arrives on Zach's phone, he pauses mid sentence and takes it out of his pocket. His face remains impa.s.sive as he shoves his phone back into his pocket and resumes talking to his adoring public.

Even though there are a million good reasons for him to do this, not the least of which being that he's giving fans some face time, it burns.

"When their mother managed them," Aidan explains to me, "anyone who came backstage had to stick to her schedule and rules. They got ten minutes, max. They weren't allowed to touch the guys at all. They had to be dressed modestly. This is a little different."

Glances at my phone reveal that forty minutes troop on past while the girls, wearing tank tops and hot pants, ask for autographs-first on paper, then on their bodies.

Zach draws the line when one of them wants to flash her b.o.o.bs for a signature, and even though I'm so dead tired the world is twilight, more stabs of jealousy lance through me. Which isn't me at all. I never bothered to spend any time with the green-eyed monster. That was for girls who couldn't get another date five minutes later. If a guy was stupid enough to play games with me or cheat, I moved on. I thought that was a show of strength, and I was used to being pursued. My last boyfriend worked so hard on keeping me in his life that he was essentially a stalker, always on my Facebook page and texting me on the phone. I thought it was so romantic at the time.

I'm pretty sure if I tried that, Zach would freak.

It feels like an eternity later that we're all climbing into cars to go back to the hotel. I fall asleep with my cheek pressed against the window gla.s.s. Thank goodness for dark tinting. I'm sure that would've looked weird to anyone on the outside.

I wake with a start when the other doors open with metallic pops. I sit up and wipe the drool off my chin. Gross. At least I wasn't in Zach's car.

The night air is warm and still humid in the few steps I take through it, and then I'm striding across the threshold into the hotel lobby, which seems far too bright. My whole body aches with exhaustion, and I look neither right nor left as I stumble on over to the elevators and nearly fall asleep again as I wait for one to arrive.

I can hear Zach's voice behind me in the lobby, and I turn to find him talking to Aidan. He sees my look, finishes his conversation, and then heads in my direction.

Wake up, Kyra, I think. Time with him is definitely more important than sleep.

He comes to stand near me and says, "So, not a complete disaster, that set, huh?"

"Not even," I say.

The elevator arrives then and I step inside, Zach right on my heels.

I'M NOT sure what floor to hit, but I decide it'd be presumptuous to hit twelve. I push my own floor and leave it at that. Zach folds his arms, leans against the wall of the elevator, and smiles at me. From the light in his eyes, I know he's plotting something, and when we reach my floor, he's the first to step off. That's when it hits me that he never pushed the b.u.t.ton for his floor.

He raises an eyebrow suggestively as I step off of the elevator. "May I walk you to your room? Or do you still not trust me enough?"

My cheeks flush warm. "It isn't a trust issue." I step off the elevator and the doors slide shut behind me.

"No?"

"I take this job seriously. I want to look professional. I don't want to look like some groupie who weaseled her way in-"

"A groupie, huh?" He laughs.

Which makes my cheeks burn more. He thinks that the image of me acting like a groupie is so absurd, so it's clear he doesn't know me at all. And again, I don't know how to set him straight. "Hey, I would have totally slept with all three of you a year ago," comes to mind, but I can't make myself say it.

At least I don't nod in agreement, which he takes with good humor as he plucks my shirt hem. "Loosen up, Armijo. I promise not to compromise your situation with your boss. No one will think I got you this job, though you know, I have some pull in entertainment circles. If you ever wanted a job in-"

"No. I'd never-"

He cracks up. "Always honorable. All right. All right."

Wow. His wrong idea about me is pretty entrenched. The lies keep piling up, but I'm too tired to sort them out. Given his demeanor, we'll probably just sit and talk some more, though I suppose I could set him straight if I tried to take his clothes off with my teeth. That thought makes me smile and shake my head. This whole situation is hopeless. I keep my eyes averted from him. It isn't as if I don't know his fully-clothed body by heart.

We reach my door and I slide the keycard in with a click. He steps in to open my door for me, though. Once I'm in, he says, "May I?" and steps in after me, switching the light on with one hand and with the other shutting the door behind us.

"Sorry this isn't as nice as your room."

"This is the kind of room I'm used to. Let me know if this all starts to overwhelm you. You know, with the glamor of it all." He looks me over as if he expects me to do something.

Should I have laughed?

We're both standing just inside the door. I wonder what cue I'm missing.

"Go on," he says. "Brush your teeth. Get in your pajamas."

Huh? I think. What does this mean? Dare I hope this signals a change in this "friendship" of ours? I step into the bathroom and turn on the tap. It takes me a few minutes to wash my face, brush my teeth, and change into my sweats. I started sleeping in sweats when I decided not to be easy anymore. It just seemed to go with the new lifestyle, but it's less than ideal when I have Zach Wechsler sitting on my bed. I poke my head out and he smiles at me.

Yeah, this won't do. I duck back in and twist my hair into pigtails. That's the best I can manage to de-frump my image. When I step all the way out, he's waiting for me, shoes off and feet up on my bed, lounging. As I move closer, he gets to his feet and pulls down the covers for me. "M'lady."

Straight to bed?

I climb in. This mattress is a little narrow, but sometimes it's better that way. Some of the best s.e.x happens when you can only move so much. Because s.e.x is what's about to happen, right? Not that it would make any sense.

Zach pulls the covers up over me and kneels down on the floor next to my bed. "So," he says, "you survived your first day of the tour."

I look into those steely blue eyes. "I guess so."

"I'd say they get easier, but they don't. The longer we're out, the crankier people get. It can be bad."

I can't help but watch his lips as he speaks. "Oh joy," I say.

"But it'll be all right. It always is."

I'm not sure if he wants me lying down or propped up on my elbow or what. I'm beyond confused about what's going on here.

"So what are your rules?" he asks.

Rules? What on earth is he talking about? Is he into hardcore kink? Do I need to come up with a safe word? I'm too tired to think of a good one.

"No being seen together in public," he ticks off on one finger. "No being too, ah, familiar even around just the rest of the crew. Do you want to set a curfew? Am I breaking it?"

"Huh? No, I-"

"I was kidding. People know we're just friends."

Ouch.

"Goodnight," he whispers. "Sleep tight. I'll see you in the morning, and I'll keep things strictly professional in public. Promise." He holds out a hand to me.

Not knowing what he wants, I take it, and he gives me a gentle kiss on the knuckles, the touch of his lips feather-light.

And with that, he gets to his feet, grabs his shoes, takes the two steps to the door, and lets himself out. "Night," he whispers again as he hits the light switch.

I'm too stunned to reply. I'm now alone in the dark.

Did he just tuck me in?!

THE NEXT morning, I get up, shower, dry my hair, and head down to get breakfast, only there's a commotion in the lobby. It would appear that Ben and Logan are having a fight. In public.

I SLOW my steps as I approach. Aidan and a guy I a.s.sume is Rick-the-Manager, a middle aged man with a friendly smile and a slight paunch, exchange wary looks with me. The two band mates appear to be seconds away from punching each other's lights out.

"I am cancelling the zoo," says the guy I a.s.sume is Rick. "It's not a vital part of the tour."

They're fighting about a trip to the zoo? What zoo?

"It's up to Zach," says Aidan.

"No, it's up to me," counters Rick.

"He wants to do this, and we're going to film it."

Logan takes a swing at Ben, who jumps back. "Bring it!"

Rick looks Aidan up and down, shrugs, and says, "Fine." He turns to leave, sees me, and pauses to nod a greeting. "Kyra."

I watch him exit to the cafe while Ben ducks another swing and clambers over one of the lobby's many sofas. A small crowd of hotel staff has formed behind the front desk. Brent and crew film from a discreet distance. I look to Aidan. "The zoo?"

"Yeah, it's a PR thing."

I jerk my head in the direction of the two feuding cousins. "We checking them in? Putting them in the monkey house?"

"Oh, no, they are fighting over whether Logan knows how to pick good music."

"Come here!" Logan shouts.

Given that he's trying to punch Ben, he shouldn't be surprised that his cousin doesn't obey.

"Um, isn't anyone going to get them to move somewhere not so public?" I say.

"Yeah, it's interesting. Logan's mother would have come down on them like a ton of bricks. Maybe they just need to let off some steam."

Logan hoists a heavy pottery vase.

"Whoa! Hey!" I shout. "Enough. Break it up, guys."

Ben turns and gives me a sheepish smile. "Come on, don't fight in front of the pretty girl," he says.

Logan glares at me.

I feel like a babysitter as I put my hands on my hips. "Put it down. Come on. You don't just trash other people's stuff." And now I sound like a babysitter, even though Logan and I are the same age.

Ben smirks but doesn't join in, which shows he's smarter than he acts sometimes. He looks past me. "Zach, hey, what's up?"

Logan hastily returns the vase to its spot on the end table.

"Not me. Jet lag." Zach's voice is right behind me, and even though it's soft, I hear every word. Every nuance.

"Eh, it's all good. Slap on some concealer like a real man." Aidan walks over and gives what sounds like a friendly clap on the shoulder.

"Oh, yeah, right. And some eyeliner," says Zach.

"Tellin' ya, man. Chicks dig metros.e.xual."

"I was ten when people used that word. Dude, you're showing your age."

"Rub it in, rub it in." Aidan's voice moves off in the direction of the elevators.

I stand, rigid, as if someone's holding a gun to my back. My plan to act purely professional is going just great; just the sound of his voice puts me on edge. My heart's pounding. It's as if I can feel where he is in relation to me without even looking, and I don't get why. I mean, I get why I break a sweat just being in the same room as him, but I don't get why my feelings are even more intense now. We didn't do anything last night.

"Ms. Armijo," says Zach.

I turn way too fast. His hair's still wet and he's wearing a sleeveless shirt and shorts. I can see every inch of his toned and muscular body-and the fact that he's been working out.

He inclines his head as if we're mere acquaintances. "You goin' to the zoo today?"

I have no idea. "I think so," I squeak.

He nods as if my reply is normal, but his eyes twinkle. "Good, good. It's a great zoo." Then he walks off in the direction of the elevators. I watch for several seconds before I get a grip, turn around, and try to act natural. Ben's gaze flicks between me and Zach, and he chuckles before he walks over to me and says in a low voice, "Yeah, good luck with that."

I'm grateful for my dark skin. It should mask my blush a little. Otherwise, I'd be beet red.

"But if you ever wanna come by my room..." Ben winks at me.

I shake my head.

He shrugs and strides off.

Logan is now glaring after Zach, but I can tell there won't be any more violence.

"Yeah," says Aidan. "I'm thinking he won't be going to the zoo either. Bet you ten dollars it's just Zach."

I have no idea how to respond to that. This morning has just been too weird, and the one thing that consumes my attention is the fact that no one tried to protect Triple Cross's image. A few media stories about this morning and their reputation will take a hit.

THE ZOO is closed. This is a private tour, and Aidan was right. Zach's doing it solo. Zach and Rick (I now know for sure it's Rick-the-Manager) argue on the way over.

"People are doing extra work for this," is Zach's take. "It's a privilege being offered."

"It's another item in your already overfull calendar," says Rick. "You guys should have some downtime. No one else will be on this zoo tour, and you see the stress on your band mates."