Zac could have sworn that he saw Spencer everywhere he went. Realistically, he knew it wasn’t her, but every flash of bright red hair caught his eye and made his heart flutter. Just the night before in Nashville, a ginger girl in the balcony grabbed his attention and held it for nearly an entire song. The lights blinded him enough that he couldn’t be sure, but Spencer did live in Nashville, after all.
If he was completely honest with himself, he didn’t know if he wanted to see her or not. He had walked out of her apartment over a year ago not because it was what he truly wanted, but because it was what she’d asked of him. Spencer had made it perfectly clear that she didn’t want any trace of Zac in her life. If that was what she wanted, he could give her that. At times, he thought that was what she deserved. The truth was, Zac knew, what he hated most about her wasn’t what she’d done but the fact that she seemed to never be far from his mind.
After the next show in Kansas City, Zac had to sneak into an alley beside the venue for a cigarette before he could face the fans. He knew it was a habit he should never have picked up, but he only fell back on it when he really, truly couldn’t cope. It was that or alcohol, and he wasn’t really sure which was worse for him in the long run.
He was just stubbing out his cigarette when yet another flash of red hair caught his attention. Zac practically gave himself whiplash trying to get a look at her, but it wasn’t Spencer. It never was. She was shorter, younger, and her hair looked a little too bright orange to be natural. Still, she was close enough. Zac had never thought he had a type, but Spencer had proven him wrong.
“Hey,” he said, and tried not to wince at the way she jumped. A fan, no doubt. Still, that made things a little easier for him, and he hated himself for thinking of it that way. She stared at him like a deer in the headlights, like she wasn’t sure he was speaking to her even though no one else was around. “What’s your name?”
“H-Harper,” she choked out. “The… the show was really good.”
Zac shot her a genuine smile. “Thanks. Have you seen us before?”
“Yeah,” she replied, nodding and taking a tentative step toward him. “I was in Nashville, too.”
So it was her he had seen, Zac decided. Not Spencer at all. It never was. He took a few steps toward Harper, realizing as he approached her just how small she was. Smaller and more delicate than Spencer, and he hated himself for comparing them, but he knew from past experience that he couldn’t stop. He always searched for someone who would get him closer to what he’d lost, but none of them were ever her.
It only took a little more conversation to get Harper to loosen up a little, laugh at his jokes. She hadn’t come prepared for an autograph signing, so he scribbled his name onto her printed out concert ticket. On a whim, a bold whim, he added his hotel number. It was a risky move, but Zac was getting desperate. Her reddened cheeks were Harper’s only acknowledgment of what Zac had done.
The autograph signing went by quickly enough. Zac was still buzzing a little from the cigarette, his nerves both soothed and on edge at the same time as he anticipated what might happen once he was safely back at the hotel. Even though he was perfectly free to sleep around, he still felt guilty about it. The fans all knew, he was sure. He wondered if the lucky few he’d picked up after concerts had noticed the common denominator between them.
He showered at the hotel and changed into clean boxers and a t-shirt so clean it still smelled like laundry detergent. A hint of cigarette smoke still seemed to linger around him even after the shower, and hoped if Harper showed up, she didn’t mind. If she showed up.
But she did.
She still looked a little shy, but she gave Zac a smirk that let him know she knew exactly why she was there. They still made small talk for a few minutes, Harper studiously trying to ignore the fact that Zac was in his underwear. It was cute, but it made Zac feel even worse about himself and how little effort he put into satisfying this base need. He wondered if he was even still capable of romance, but the thought of trying to find out just seemed exhausting.
To his surprise, Harper kissed him first. As soon as their lips touched, he knew sweet and innocent had only been an act. Maybe she was the one seducing him and not the other way around. He could dissect the situation later; right then, he had more pressing matters to attend to, such as unhooking her bra and slipping his tongue into her mouth.
It didn’t take them long to end up in a pile of limbs on the bed, each groping at bits of newly exposed flesh and trying to expose more at the same time. Zac wondered if his clumsiness disappointed her. He wasn’t conceited enough to think she had ever imagined this moment before, but maybe she had. He wasn’t so sure he was making the experience live up to any sort of fantasy, but he was determined to give it his best anyway.
Harper nudged him onto his back, and Zac was eager to oblige. He thought he might die just from watching her go down on him, her red hair—chemically altered or not—falling in waves around her face as she bobbed up and down. Spencer had never done that, he thought, then mentally berated himself for once again thinking of her when he was with someone else.
“Fuck, Harper…” he moaned, partially to warn her of his impending orgasm and partially just to remind himself who she was.
She took the hint and shimmied back up the bed, rolling over onto her back. Zac gave her a quick kiss, then lunged for his wallet on the bedside table and pulled out a condom. He wasn’t taking chances again; he’d learned that lesson the hard way. He didn’t think he would ever understand all the emotions he felt over Spencer’s abortion, but he didn’t want to ever cause some girl to make that choice again.
The condom had the added bonus of dulling the sensation a little so that perhaps there was some hope of him making this whole thing worth Harper’s while. She certainly seemed to be enjoying it, if her moans were anything to judge by. Zac’s voice soon joined her, though the sounds he made were softer. He always feared saying the wrong name, so he always held back. Even when he came, it was with little more than a strangled whimper, but Harper seemed too consumed with her own orgasm to notice.
Zac collapsed on top of her and buried his face in her hair, so deep that even with his eyes shut he could see nothing but bright orange. A part of him was tempted to just stay that way indefinitely, but he had one rule: the girls never spent the night. Maybe it was harsh, but he couldn’t risk getting attached. The faster these girls were in and out of his life, the better.
Once Zac finally rolled off Harper, he watched her crawl back into her shell. Her peaches and cream skin turned bright red as she pulled her clothes on, and Zac excused himself to the bathroom just to give her a little privacy. When he returned, the condom flushed and his own clothing pulled back on, she was fully dressed and standing awkwardly by the bed.
“Umm, my room’s just… down the hall…” she mumbled, not meeting Zac’s eyes.
“Okay,” Zac replied, then kissed the top of her head. “Thanks… for coming to see me. The next time I’m in Kansas City…”
“Well, I’m… I’m from Memphis,” she replied.
“Oh, well…” Zac trailed off, because he knew that Harper knew it was an empty promise anyway. “I’ll see you at another concert?”
She nodded. “Yeah, probably… I mean, yeah, I’ll be there.”
“Okay, well… goodnight,” he said, then kissed her cheek.
This was the awkward part of the night, and Harper’s hot and cold personality made it even worse. After a few more goodbyes and quick kisses, she was finally out the door. Zac collapsed onto the bed face down and let out a groan into the pillow. He might have satisfied one need in a way that was becoming all too easy to him, but there was still a hole in his heart that he couldn’t fill.