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But no one else was going to do anything!He circled back to the fact that everyone had done nothing. They’d heard it. They’d seen it. And they’d just watched, with little smirks and calculating eyes.
So yeah, maybe rescuing her had been the worst choice for him. He was a nobody from nowhere. But no matter how many times he went over it, he knew his actions would be the same.
Taking a deep breath, he scanned the hotel gift shop. He found some gray sweatpants withLos Angeleswritten down the leg in pink.
What size did she wear? Probably small? He closed his eyes for a beat and tried to picture her.
She was five-five or so, slender, athletic. Fucking out of this world, couldn’t look away gorgeous. He grabbed a medium and held it up next to the small.
Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.
He just needed to pick one.
She’d been throwing up for a while. Something oversized would probably be more comfortable. That’s what he’d want.
Medium.
If it was too big, he’d bring it back.
He wiped at the perspiration along his hairline that he hoped no one noticed as he put his article on the counter.
“Big party tonight?” the cashier asked.
Asa stared at her, waiting for thoughts to form into words that would reach his mouth. Sweat trickled down his temple to his earlobe.
The cashier lifted an eyebrow and nodded at Asa. He glanced down. Right. He was still somewhat in his tux.
“Yeah,” he finally replied, spotting a reach-in cooler nearby. “Hold on.” He grabbed several bottles of water and a sports drink and added them to his purchase.
The total made his eyes bug out. Hotel markups were fucking insane.
He paid, took the bag the cashier handed him, and half-jogged back to the elevator.
The moment the doors closed on him and he was alone, he took another deep breath and brushed the back of his hand over his damp forehead.
He closed his eyes and tipped his head back.
He hadn’t done anything wrong; he had nothing to worry about. The only thing he was guilty of was trying to help someone.
So what if she was the most famous person in the world?
That was beside the point. Her being a pillar of the music industry’s entire existence was irrelevant.
A shiver ran through his body as the doors opened.
He stepped out and froze as his mind fought through that buzzing sound in his skull to remember which direction his room was.
He took a right and found the door.
His hands shook as he tried to get the key card out of his pocket. His hands were so sweaty that he dropped it twice.
He glanced up and down the hall, fully expecting Zara’s private security to tase him at any second.
Part of him hoped for it. Just blinding, paralyzing pain, and then it would be over. He could go to jail and stop worrying.
The feeling of impending doom beat down on his shoulders making it hard to stay upright.
He fumbled the key again and shot another look down the hall.
