“Are you for real?” Jon asks at the same time. “You could’ve gotten caught!”
I catch Zach’s eye and we grin at each other. His smile is soft and affectionate. “Ruben thought to use the fire escape,” he says. “Nobody saw us, it’s fine.”
Jon looks stricken, but Angel bursts out laughing. “Holy shit. I feel like I’m seeing a whole new side to you two.”
“I feel like you’re more shocked about us sneaking out than us hooking up in secret,” I say dryly.
Angel folds his arms. “Well, neither of you have ever asked me to sneak out with you.”
“Presumably,” Jon says, “neither of them has ever asked you to make out with them, either, though?”
“Unfortunately, you’ll never know the answer to that one,” Angel says with dignity. “I don’t kiss and tell.”
Zach glances at me and raises a questioning eyebrow. I shake my head no, biting back a laugh.
“And to be fair, Zach didn’t ask me to make out with him, per se,” I start, but Angel shoves his fingers in his ears and starts singing his part in “Guilty” loudly enough to drown me out.
* * *
I can’t say that it didn’t occur to me it was a bad idea to put the idea of escaping the hotel in Angel’s head.
It seems unlikely that it’d never occurred to him, given we literally caught him using a fire exit only last week. But I guess ducking outside to meet a dealer for five minutes is a different ball game than escaping at night to go on an adventure. Still, it’s been days since we told him about our escape, and as far as I can tell, he hasn’t tried it himself. Or, at least, if he has, he hasn’t been caught.
In fact, Angel has been pretty low-key since he got into trouble for messing with the choreo in Cologne. I have no idea if it was escalated to Geoff, or if Erin’s disapproval was inexplicably enough to set him straight, but he hasn’t made a peep.
Which is why, when he sends a group message to us telling us about the “few friends” he has in his room tonight, I’m actually a little taken aback.
Zach, whose phone buzzed the same moment mine did, pulls his blanket to his chin and burrows deep into his mountain of pillows. “I don’t want to, I just want to stay in and watch movies.” Suddenly, his head snaps up. “Unless you want to? We can totally go if you want to. I’m easy.”
“No, I’m happy to stay in,” I say, putting my phone on his bedside table and snuggling in beside him to steal his body heat. It’s an especially cool night in Berlin, and even though the rooms are all climate controlled, the steady pattering of light rain on the windows is enough to make me feel sleepy and cozy. I feel sorry for the group of fans huddled outside the hotel hoping to catch a glimpse of us. I hope they have blankets. And umbrellas.
“I can’t hear any music,” Zach says. “Maybe it’s actually only a few friends.”
“Yeah, totally,” I say, walking my fingers across his bare shoulder to his collarbone. He shivers and his eyes go dark as he watches me. “I’m sure he’s having one or two buddies over for a rousing game of Monopoly.”
He swallows and touches my fingers, tilting his head back. The sight of him like this, shirtless and languid, sets something alight within me. The thing is, I’m quite sure he’s the most impossibly beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. I’m about to lean forward to kiss him on his lips, or his neck, or anywhere and everywhere he’ll let me, when he closes his grip around my hand and pushes me away to prop himself up. He suddenly looks worried. “Do you think he’s okay?”
I let out a short laugh. “Ah, yes, I’m sure he’s having a great time.”
But Zach doesn’t laugh. Instead, his eyebrows draw closer together, and he presses his lips thin. I haul myself up into a half-sitting position to match him and lean forward. “Hold on, what do you mean?”
“I don’t know. He’s just … he’s been high a couple of times recently, and if he’s having friends around … I’m probably overthinking it.”
The thing is, though, that up until now Zach’s been much less concerned about Angel’s well-being than Jon and I have. If even Zach thinks something’s off enough to want to take charge here, I’m inclined to pay attention.
“Do you think we should check in on him?” I ask.
His eyes flicker to mine. “Would you mind?”
I roll my eyes and launch forward on the bed to grab his discarded shirt and throw it to him. “One day you’re going to do something without permission from everyone in the room, and I’m going to pass out from shock.”
“Am I that bad?” he asks as he pulls it over his head.
I head over to his side of the bed and offer him my hand to pull him up. “The worst. But don’t panic, you’re still the best.”
Jon’s already in Angel’s room when we get there. Like Zach had hoped, there’s only a handful of visitors this time. Nothing like Paris. But unlike Paris, I don’t recognize anyone, and everyone seems to be buzzing. The conversations are all happening in double-time, with most conversation partners both speaking over each other. And whether they’re standing by the window, or kneeling on the bed, limbs are trembling and postures are odd and eyes are a little too wide.
Angel, who was speaking earnestly with Jon by the bathroom door, flings himself at us when we enter. Beads of sweat are glistening on his forehead, and his hair is hanging in damp strands. “You made it,” he cries out, flinging his arms around us both so our heads knock together. “I thought you were gonna ditch us and do your own thing tonight.”
I rub my head while Zach grabs Angel to hold him steady. “Angel, you haven’t told anyone here about … that, right?” he whispers.
Angel narrows his eyes and pouts. “That’s a secret,” he says. “I’m not stupid. Or a piece of shit.”
His voice hardened at that last part, and I wonder for a second if he’s offended Zach suspected him. But there’s no time to ask, because he’s bounded off to talk to an unfamiliar, petite girl with long dark hair styled into twists.
Jon joins us by the door. “I think I’m gonna go to bed soon,” he says in a heavy voice.