Page 160 of Positively Pricked
I hadn't expected any of this – the conversation, the attention, and a multitude of other small courtesies that I never would've associated with someone like Zane Bennington – the biggest prick on the planet.
And yet, I wasn't seeing him that way anymore. Not today. And maybe not ever from now on.
Within just a few short hours, I knew more about him than I ever would've expected.
It wasn't like he told me everything all at once. Rather, as we wandered through the city, he'd let a detail slip here or there. This is how I also learned that he'd graduated from Michigan Tech University, where he'd earned a bachelor's in physics, and then a master's in civil engineering.
I gave his T-shirt a sideways glance. "Sothat'swhere the shirt's from."
He looked down as noticing it for the first time. "Well, it's not from Harvard, that's for sure."
I couldn’t help but tease, "So, they turned you down, huh?"
"No. I turnedthemdown."
"Really? So you were accepted?"
"Hey, it wasn't that hard," he said. "I had legacy on my side. I would've been the fourth generation to go."
I had to laugh. "Not that hard, huh? So tell me, what were your scores?"
After going back and forth a few times, he finally admitted that he'd gotten a nearly perfect score on his SAT, and that he'd graduated summa cum laude – for his bachelor'sandhis master's.
Although I hadn't recognized the university logo, I did know a little something about his alma mater. It wasn't Ivy League, but it wasn't a school for dolts either. The way I heard it, you had to be wicked smart just to get in – and legacy counted for zip.
Apparently, I was dealing with a certified genius. It shouldn't have been a surprise. After all, he'd been running a multi-billion dollar corporation without breaking a sweat – even if he did break an egg or two along the way.
As the hours slipped by, I told him more about myself, too, even though I strongly suspected that in true Zane fashion, he already knew more than he let on.
As we sat on a bench in Central Park, I happened to mention the location of my parent's farm and was surprised when Zane showed a genuine interest, even to the point of asking what crops they were growing this year.
At this, I had to laugh. "Oh come on. You're just being nice."
He lifted a single eyebrow. "Me? You're kidding, right?"
Was I? That word,nice, it didn't fit him at all – or at least, it hadn't until today. Maybe this should've worried me – the fact that he'd been such a bastard all along, and now, he was acting like a pretty decent guy.
We were sitting close, with his arm draped over my shoulders. I leaned into him and savored the feel of his hard body against mine. "Well, you're a lot nicer today than normal."
"Yeah? Well don't tell anyone."
Funny, he didn't sound like he was joking. I pulled back to study his face, even as I teased, "Why? Would it ruin your reputation?"
"Probably." His eyes held no trace of humor. "My grandfather? He was the nicest guy you ever met."
"I know." I paused. "I mean, it's what everyone says."
"Right." Zane was frowning now. "And you wanna know what it got him?"
"What?" I asked.
"Nothing but trouble. My uncles – meaning my dad's brothers? Guys were total losers. Drugs, women, you name it."
As far as I knew, Zane didn't do drugs. And he certainly wasn't a loser. But when it came to women, he was in no position to talk. The recollection was a cold splash on an otherwise warm day.
Next to me, Zane said, "What is it?"
"What's what?" I asked.
