Sixteen

The next morning, I’m awakened by Chris’s soft, rhythmic breathing against my neck. I let out a contented sigh, snuggling into his body. He responds to my movement by instinctually tightening his arm around my waist. After a few minutes spent luxuriating in his embrace, I roll over and stroke his hair. His eyelids flutter open, and he smiles sleepily at me.

“Hi,” I whisper, returning his smile.

“Hi,” he whispers back.

We’re stuck in the moment, gazing at each other in rapt adoration, when we’re suddenly brought crashing back to reality by a sharp knock on the door.

It takes me a minute to remember what’s going on, and when I finally sit up in a panic, Chris is already bolting into the bathroom to hide. I jump out of bed and grab my robe, pulling it shut as I race for the door. On my way there, I notice the jacket from Chris’s suit flung across a chair in the bedroom, and I quickly stuff it under the bed before hurrying back to the door.

I yank it open to find Suzette standing there, her hand poised to knock again.

“Hey, Suzette,” I say lightly, fearing that my attempts at nonchalance might be betrayed by the shakiness of my voice. Without so much as a hello, she strides past me into the room, looking around suspiciously. My heart is beating so loudly that I’m sure she can hear it, even though she’s already halfway across the suite.

“What’s up?” I ask, closing the door and hurrying to join her.

When she reaches the bed, she stops abruptly and turns to face me. Her face is stern as she asks, “Would you like to tell me why I got a call from Us Weekly this morning, asking me to confirm rumors that you and Chris Abbott are romantically involved?”

“I have no idea,” I lie. As I say this, my eyes scan the room and spot a discarded condom wrapper on the floor next to the bed, not two feet from where Suzette is currently tapping her tweed pumps. Oh, God. I’ve got to get here out of here before she notices that.

“Who knows where these things come from?” I continue quickly. “Somebody probably saw us at the MTV Awards together and just started assuming things. Honestly, those magazines come up with the most outlandish stories!” I laugh nervously as I attempt to usher her away from the bedroom. She eyes me suspiciously, but follows.

“They told me they have Skylar Williams quoted as saying you two looked very cozy together in the green room,” she says, perching on the arm of the living-room couch. “And apparently they have some picture of you two getting out of a limo here at the hotel in which you look, quote, very much in love.”

“That’s preposterous!” I cry, my heart secretly swelling. “First of all, who’s going to believe anything Skylar Williams has to say? Honestly! I mean, she’s still claiming she’s a virgin, and we all know that’s a lie.” Suzette rolls her eyes. “Furthermore,” I continue, “I don’t know what this picture they have is, but you know they’ll say whatever they want about a given photo to make it fit the context of their story. I’m sure there’s nothing to it.”

“Well, that’s all fine and good,” Suzette says, “but what kind of comment am I supposed to give them about you and Chris?”

“I don’t know, Suzette,” I can’t resist saying patronizingly. “Off the top of my head, how about, ‘They’re just friends’?”

“Just friends,” she scoffs. “That’s practically publicist code for ‘They’re an item.’”

“Well, in this case it’s true,” I tell her. “I don’t know what else to say.”

“I’ll figure something out,” she snaps, jumping up from the couch and striding across the room. She’s almost to the door when she stops and turns around.

“By the way,” she says, her tone falsely innocent, “I can’t seem to find Chris in his room this morning. If you see him, will you tell him I’m looking for him?”

“He’s probably just out getting coffee,” I say, covering smoothly, “but if I run into him, I’ll be sure to let him know.”

“Thanks.” Suzette scans both me and the room suspiciously one more time before she leaves.

As soon as the door clicks shut, I breathe a huge sigh of relief and head straight for the bathroom (making sure to chuck the condom wrapper in the trash on my way) to tell Chris that we’re safe. I find him sitting nervously on the edge of the tub, a towel wrapped around his waist. The clothes he was wearing last night are still crumpled in a damp ball in a corner of the bathroom.

“I think I managed to throw her off the trail,” I say with a smile.

“Good,” he says, exhaling loudly.

“Another close call,” I tell him worriedly.

“But totally worth it,” he says with a sexy grin, reaching out and grabbing the belt of my robe and pulling me toward him.

“Totally,” I agree, throwing my arms around him as he stands up. With two quick flicks of the wrist, his towel and my robe slide off off, and together, we sink to the bathroom floor.