TWENTY-SEVEN
Zairn kept touching her. It wasn’t unpleasant but distracted everyone around them. Honestly, people had gone nuts. When they got out the car at the club, he’d been holding her hand. No big deal? Right? Except their physical connection stirred up their VIPs who insisted on showing them the online pictures just minutes after they got inside.
They were hot property apparently. People wanted them to be together. Strangers were invested in their non-existent relationship. People they’d never met and never would meet had an opinion on what should go on in their bedrooms. It mystified her.
“Babe?”
She and Zairn were sharing a couch in the Crimson VIP lounge. Sharing was a loose description. They were both seated in the middle, not a glimmer of light passed between them. For most
