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Everyone seemed nonchalant, and I probably should have been too. I mean, it was Ziggy, and he pulled shit all the time. Was never where he was supposed to be and never on time. But something about this had the hair on the back of my neck standing up. The guard hit his radio. “Drake. Check in. What’s your twenty?”
He was wearing a fancy earpiece, so I couldn’t hear Drake’s answer. But I glared at him as if Drake were giving him the worst news.
“Eh. They’re on their way up. Relax.” When I didn’t move, he added. “Drake’s the best. He’s got this.”
I knew Drake shadowed Ziggy everywhere, and so far, he’d been on top of things. And they were inside the secure stadium. I had no reason to worry. I exhaled loudly.
“Dude…” Wolf put his arm around my shoulders. I hadn’t even noticed him come up to me. “It’s Ziggy. He probably stopped to smoke a joint. He does that shit all the time.”
That was true, but I hadn’t seen him do it or seen any evidence of him smoking anything since he’d come off the stage in Richmond. Maybe that was it. “I know. I don’t know why I’m concerned.”
“’Cause you have feelings for him. That’s obvious.”
“That is true.” I couldn’t lie.
Ziggy bounced into the room with Drake on his heels. “Yo! Who is ready to paar-tay?” A few people hooted, but mostly the Bramble Punk group. Miami and Jinx blew him off, and Wolf gave him the bird. Ziggy strutted across the room and over to us and pulled me away from Wolf, who laughed. “Mine.” He kissed me, sloppy and playful.
“Hey. You worried me.”
His demeanor instantly changed, his face dropping into a frown. “What? Why? I was with Drake.”
“I know, but I expected you to be with the Bramble guys and you weren’t. Something about that had me, I don’t know, worried.”
He gave me a quick kiss and smiled. “No worries. I’m fine. Let’s get a drink.” He headed to the side of the room where there was a complete assortment of alcohol as well as cold beer. Most people were only drinking water, saving the real party for after the show, but Ziggy poured a healthy shot of Crown.
“Hey!” Miami called, and most of the room turned to look at him. “We have an interview panel in like ten minutes.”
Ziggy held the glass up. “One shot, dude. Relax.” He mumbled something about his mother under his breath and sipped the whiskey. “Ahh…Good stuff.”
He was feisty and geared up for the show ahead. I’d seen this before. I didn’t know why it was bothering me now. Maybe because I’d finally allowed myself to think we could have more, but some of my issues with Ziggy were now being thrown right in my face. I had decided to accept him as he was. All of him. I sighed and sank back into a chair. That included his wild side.
Marci and Kai came in before Ziggy even finished his drink. She clapped. “Okay, guys. We need to move. Down to the interview panel and a short meet and greet after. You know the routine.”
The guys all got up, not only Midnight Hunt but Bramble Punk as well. They would start the meet and greet while the Hunt guys did the interview. It wasn’t a typical sit and sign, more like a casual party with contest winners and a few special guests as well as members of the press. We took the elevators in four loads, and Ziggy pulled me back to get in the last one. “I’m not in a hurry to answer a bunch of stupid questions. Think I can get away with skipping the dog and pony show and going straight to the meet-greet?”
“Sadly, no. You’re a part of Midnight Hunt.”
“Pfhist…”
“What’s that mean?”
“Nothing. I’m tired already. Maybe I’d forgotten how hard these tours are, or I’m getting old.”
I pinched his ass. “You’re not old. Now get on the elevator.” It dinged and the doors opened as we spoke. And we got in, followed by Drake.
We pushed to the back of the box and leaned against the wall. Ziggy tapped out a tune with his fingers on the wall beside him. That wasn’t nerves. Ziggy tapped on everything all the time. But his tight smile told me he wasn’t comfortable with doing the press thing. “Zig?”
“Yeah?”
“You don’t have to answer anything that’s not specifically directed at you. I’m betting you might spend most of the time sitting there looking pretty.”
“You think I’m pretty?” He did a weird dance, ending up in front of me.
“Damn straight, pretty man.” I said it so seriously that it got him to burst out laughing. Exactly what I intended.
He kissed me quickly, then put his forehead against mine. “Thanks. You know, for everything. For being here.”
That was when I smelled the pot on him. That was exactly what he’d been doing. Well, I knew. I wasn’t going to change him. “You’re welcome.”
