Like It Hurt
New Orleans was hot. New Orleans was fucking hot. It felt like every time I turned around, I needed to change clothes and take another shower so that I didn’t offend everyone around me. Not that most of them would have minded all that much; they didn’t seem to shower that often, and anyway, no one was getting that close to me, least of all Zac.
When Taylor invited me to join everyone at Coyote Ugly after the concert, I didn’t say yes at first. I had avoided the bars, despite only having seen Zac so drunk that one time. The rest of time, he seemed to keep to himself. Since he was so intent on avoiding me, I figured it was safe to go to the bar just one time.
But no. Of course it wasn’t.
He was there, already on what looked like his third or fourth beer, by the time Annalee and I walked in, freshly showered and changed into our third outfits of the day. Something about the way his eyes lingered on me made me wish I’d worn more layers, in spite of the awful sticky heat. I settled for crossing my hands over my chest, only uncrossing them to pay for my rum and coke.
The entire crew took up two tables, so I was spared from having to sit at the same table with Zac. I could still feel his eyes on me all night, as if he were trying to bore holes in me with them. I didn’t understand why he always seemed so angry with me. It had begun well before that kiss, but it seemed to have gotten even worse since, in spite of the fact that he had kissed me. If I ever worked up the nerve to speak to him again, I decided I would mention that important detail.
As the night wore on, the opportunity never seemed to present itself. The guys at my table, including Taylor, the opening act, Paul, and several members of the crew, kept me as distracted as they could from Zac. Of course they didn’t know that was what they were doing when they talked to me about music, New York, tattoos and whatever else, but it served that purpose nevertheless. When Taylor started asking me to dance, mostly jokingly, I didn’t see any real reason to turn him down.
Some loud pop song was pumping through the speakers as Taylor pulled my body close to his. I knew he had a wife, but I wasn’t concerned. He was a flirt. I had learned this about him already. I doubted there was ever anything genuine behind his flirtations.
If you can’t hear what I’m trying to say
If you can’t read from the same page
Maybe I’m going deaf,
Maybe I’m going blind
Maybe I’m out of my mind
Still, it was nice to have him pay attention to me. Even if it meant nothing, I liked the way he swished and swayed next to me, the way he put his hand on the small of my back and pulled me closer so that he could practically grind against me.
The cat calls from our section of the room caught my ear even over the music, and my head spun around to look. Muff was offering Taylor a big thumbs up and an exaggerated wink, which only made Taylor throw back his head and laugh.
OK now he was close, tried to domesticate you
But you’re an animal, baby it’s in your nature
Just let me liberate you
It wasn’t the cat calls that upset me, though. It was the expression on Zac’s face. Even worse than the glare I’d seen him give me before, this expression was full of judgment. I hated it. What right did he have to get upset that I was dancing with Taylor?
That was the only explanation I could think of for the way he looked at me. When he realized I’d caught him, he shook his head and looked away. While Zac downed the rest of his beer, I turned back to Taylor and slipped my arms around his neck. I didn’t want to look at Zac again. Ever. Or at least not until he could admit that I wasn’t the one in the wrong.
I hate these blurred lines
I know you want it
I hate them lines
I know you want it
After several more dances and drinks, I could barely focus my mind enough to remember how upset I was with Zac. He was still there, though, brooding and threatening to bring everyone else’s mood down. Once I finally left the dance floor, I could feel his eyes on me. I couldn’t escape them during the walk back to the hotel, either. We were all too drunk to attempt to find a cab, but Taylor was certain he could navigate our way back to the hotel. I found myself walking as close to him as I could, trying to ignore the feeling of Zac’s eyes on my back.
Our hotel was just off Canal Street and it made me long to come back to New Orleans some time when I really had time to explore the city. I knew I could go sight seeing the next day, before we had to leave, and I decided to make the best of what little time I had. The farther I could get away from Zac, the better.
There was something strange in the air that night, stranger than all the alcohol fumes coming off our stumbling crew and stranger even than Zac’s stares. Maybe it was just something about New Orleans, some weird magic built into the city. It made you feel like anything at all could and would happen on those streets. I couldn’t decide if I liked that feeling or not.
Although my feet were sore and my body ached all over, the alcohol numbed all of that enough that the walk back to the hotel seemed to pass quickly. Soon we were inside, trying to remember how to get back to our rooms. There were multiple elevators, all of them taking their sweet time returning to the first floor. We filled several of them, until somehow as luck would have it, Zac and I were the only ones left waiting.
I was tempted to just let him take the next elevator that came and remain on the spot until another one came. But I didn’t. I stood on the spot and waited, doing my best to stare at anything but Zac.
“So what, do you just like married men?” He asked as the elevator slowly ticked its way down to the ground floor.
“What?” I asked in shock. I’d heard him, but the words didn’t make their way entirely through the thick cloud of alcohol in my mind.
“I’m just saying, I can’t tell if it’s married men or Hanson brothers you have a fetish for,” Zac replied.
“Believe me, I’m not a fan of either,” I replied, giving him a pointed look that I instantly regretted because of the intensity of his stare. “Especially right now.”
“Aww, am I hurting your feelings?”
The elevator arriving gave me a perfect excuse to ignore that question, but of course Zac followed me onto it.
Before the door had even shut, he asked, “What’s your problem with me?”
“I don’t have a problem,” I lied, stabbing the button for our floor angrily. “But you might want to think about the fact that you get so obsessed with me when you’re fucked up.”
“Obsessed with you?” He replied with a dismissive snort.
I shrugged. “Asking me to stay with you, kissing me… staring at me all fucking night… just starts to look a little bit like you’re the one with the problem, not me.”
“And you weren’t throwing yourself at Taylor just to get my attention?”
“Why the hell would I think that would get your attention?” I asked.
Even as the words left my mouth, I realized the answer. Zac’s face said that he realized he’d said too much, too. He was jealous.
“I’m just saying…” he half-mumbled, clearly losing steam to argue. “You could do better than Taylor.”
“So show me better and I’ll do it,” I replied. It was both an innuendo and a little bit of a dare, and I didn’t want to admit that I hoped Zac took the bait.
He glanced above the door at the numbers ticking off. Three floors left. He glanced back at me and I felt like I was melting, both from the heat of the city and the heat of Zac’s eyes. With his eyes locked on mine, I almost didn’t even realize he was advancing upon me… not until my back hit the elevator wall and Zac’s chest was pressed against mine, his hands planted on either side of my head.
This time, he tasted like beer, and it was a fitting taste to go with his bitter, angry words. Even realizing he was jealous didn’t sweeten it any. What did it matter if he was? He took that jealousy out on me with his words and his rough kisses.
And oh, were his kisses rough. He sucked my bottom lip until I thought it might bruise, then probed my mouth mercilessly with his tongue. I didn’t know what he was searching for, but I doubted he was going to find it down my throat.
When the elevator dinged to announce our arrival on the fourteenth floor, I realized he wasn’t trying to find something. He was trying to show me something.
Better. He was trying to show me better.
I clung to him, not caring that the elevator doors were opening and closing. I wanted him to know that I got the message. Zac hadn’t even paused when the elevator stopped. He let his lips move to my neck and I couldn’t stop myself from letting out a little moan. I knew we were taking a risk every time the door opened again, but I didn’t care. I tangled my hand in his hair and let him kiss me as long as he wanted.
When he finally pulled away, I realized that my whole body was shaking. In spite of the heat and the fire Zac had ignited in my blood, cold chills had taken me over.
Zac didn’t take his eyes off mine as he backed off the elevator into the hallway. I followed him, but I knew I couldn’t, shouldn’t follow all the way to his room. I wanted to, though. I wanted to see just how much better he thought he could be. From his kisses alone, I had a feeling he would be better than any other guy I’d ever been with.
But it was wrong. We couldn’t be together. We shouldn’t have even kissed, and I knew that when he sobered up, he would remember that.
It was irrelevant to even think about, because he didn’t ask me to follow him. He didn’t say a word. His eyes, though they bored into me, were unreadable. I didn’t want to assume that he wanted to see this all the way through.
So I didn’t follow him.
I turned around and walked the opposite direction, toward my room. I was certain Zac watched me the entire way, but when I glanced back before opening my door, he was gone.