Page 143 of Dirty Like Zane
I wentsilent.
“Give me a minute,” he growled. Then he practically tossed me aside as he walked away, leaving me standing here,alone.
I turned right around and left the party. I headed up to my room, just barely holding back the tears. As soon as I’d shut myself into my hotel room, though, the tearswon.
I tossed myself on the bed and cried for five solid minutes or so, until I was too exhausted to do it anymore and felt like a useless idiot. What had crying ever done foranyone?
It hadn’t done anything for me when I was a kid. It definitely never solved any of my problems or magically turned my dad into a niceguy.
Then I rolled over onto my back and stared blankly at the ceiling, kinda wishing I’d never gotten up thismorning.
Well… the sex on the private jet with Zane… I’d get out of bed for that. And the chocolatecake.
But the rest ofit?
To hell with the rest ofit.
* * *
Maybe fifteen minutes later,there was a soft knock on my hotel roomdoor.
I opened it to find Dallas, her eyes red-rimmed from crying. Her gaze barely met mine, and I hoped I didn’t look half the mess that shedid.
I’d never had a conversation with this woman before. I really didn’t know her, and she didn’t knowme.
I only knew her name because my husband had fuckedher.
What the hell did we have to say to eachother?
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, but there wasn’t much remorse init.
Clearly, she was sorry about whatever just happened between her and Zane,though.
Shady was standing behind her. When I looked at him, he took her by the elbow, gently, and ushered heraway.
Chapter Twenty
Zane
When Maggie openedthe door of her hotel room for me, she looked like she’d been crying—and it gutted me. How many times had I ever seen Maggie actually cry? Like tears running down her face andeverything?
When her mom died. When her stepdad died,too.
And when Dylan’s dad died, she’d been pretty weepy at thefuneral.
That was aboutit.
“What happened at Dizzy’s place?” I demanded as I walked in. “What did he say toyou?”
“What did you say to Dallas?” She stood there with her arms wrapped around herself, looking small and off-balance, like she didn’t know if she should hug me or start crying again orwhat.
And I softened,instantly.
“She’s not coming back,” I told her, taking a gentler tone. “You don’t have to worry about seeing heragain.”
“Just likethat?”
“Just like that.” I looked her over carefully. She was still wearing the sexy little gray dress I’d seen her in downstairs. “You want me to take you back to theparty?”
