Just One Song

by Lynn, Stacey

  I look at Jake who throws his hands up in an innocent gesture. “Find a new line,” he says with a wink and starts laughing.

  Zack shakes his head. “No. It’s a good line,” he says and then smiles that grin that I’m really starting to like…a lot. I wish I knew what they were talking about.

  “So?” He asks as he turns to Mia and me. “What’d you think?”

  “I had an absolute blast.” I smile at him and take a sip of water .

  Zack rubs his hand through his hair looking almost embarrassed, but replaces it quickly with a smile a little bit wicked. “I knew you would.”

  “Cocky, much?” I ask.

  “Just confident.”

  I laugh. Of course he’s cocky, or confident, or whatever you want to call it. He commands attention when he’s on the stage and his musical ability is amazing. "It was awesome, really. We've had a great night."

  “Want to go sit down?” I follow him over to a leather couch in the corner. Jake and Garrett are also there, sitting on another couch. I look around and notice Mia and Chase sitting in a quiet corner talking close together.

  We’re in the middle of talking about one of my favorite songs when I’m introduced to Zack’s manager, Aaron.

  After introductions, Aaron turns to Zack. “There’s a local politican’s daughter here for your autograph. I want to make sure you didn’t forget her before she leaves.”

  My hands grip my bottled water so severely I think I might break it. I look down and see that they’re also completely white, and shaking severely. She can’t be here…she can’t be here. Not tonight when I’m doing so well. I close my eyes and take a deep breath. I will not lose it tonight like I did last night. A pair of young brown eyes flash in front of mine.

  I open my eyes quickly and look at Aaron. I see Zack out of the corner of my eye talking to him and sigh, relieved that he doesn’t notice I almost lost it again. I feel stupid….and weak. Again. I hate this feeling in me. The feeling that tells me no matter how many steps I take forward, the past will always haunt me.

  “Who is it?” I croak out. My voice feels like sandpaper and I instantly wish I had more water so I could empty its entire contents.

  Aaron looks at me cautiously, and I slowly scan the room. I don’t see her. I would recognize her anywhere. I finally spot a group of young teenagers giggling in a corner while they point to Zack.

  I exhale slowly. It isn’t her. It doesn’t matter who it is because it isn’t Sarah.

  “St. Paul’s mayor’s daughter is here for her thirteenth birthday.”

  I nod and smile pathetically.

  “Not a fan of politics either?” Zack’s eyes light up in humor. I simply shake my head.

  “Something like that.” I excuse myself and walk to the bar for another bottle of water, and a shot of tequila needing something to calm me down. The alcohol burns in my throat and I make a face, trying to stop the burning. I chase the shot with half of the bottled water before I see Garrett standing next to me.

  “You okay?” Something about him puts me at ease almost immediately. His long black hair falls to his ears and I sort of want to ruffle it like I would a little boys’ just to see if it falls back in the same place. His arms and neck are covered in tattoos and he looks total bad-ass. But his friendly smile and dark blue eyes give me the sense he’s just a really nice guy.

  I nod sheepishly, but don’t say anything because I’m still embarrassed. Thankfully the shot of tequila has made me feel a bit calmer.

  “My fiancée still feels uncomfortable in settings like this.” He looks around the room briefly before turning back to me with a small shrug. “It can take a while to get comfortable around all the people we meet, you know?”

  I appreciate the thought, but that’s not really my problem. And I would really like to stop thinking about who is actually in this room and what just happened.

  “You’re engaged?” I ask once I feel like my voice will sound steady and relaxed.

  He smiles, and I can’t help return it when I see a love-filled gaze gloss over his eyes. I know that look. It’s the same way Mark would look whenever I walked into a room. The thought strikes me as odd, that I can think of him, here of all places, and not be sad; but with a simple fondness.

  “For like two years now, we haven’t been able to set a date with everything going on, but she’s wonderful. You remind me of her a little bit.”

  “How so?” I find this odd considering we barely spoke last night when we were introduced and he doesn’t know me at all.

  He simply shrugs and waves a hand out gesturing towards the room. “She’s not impressed with all of this. She just sees us as guys.”

  “You are guys. How long have you been together?”

  I listen attentively as Garrett smiles widely and tells me all about how he and Chloe met in college before he got hooked up with Zack. Eventually, Zack joins us along with Mia, and I realize the room has emptied to just a few crew workers and the rest of the band, minus Ethan.

  “We should probably get going,” Mia says to me. I feel a little bit sad the night is over. But I follow her as we say good-bye to the guys and crew.

  To my surprise, Zack and Chase escort Mia and I out of the building. Outside the band’s entrance, Darren stands outside a black Mercedes sedan, waiting to drive us to our car that’s parked six blocks away.

  “I want you to be safe,” Zack explains, almost sheepishly. “It was so…so good to meet you this weekend, Nicole.”

  I don’t know what to say. All I can do is nod and smile like a bobble head. “I had a great time.”

  He takes a step towards me and raises his hand. His palm hovers over my cheek and instinctively I lean in. At the last second, his eyes soften and his hand closes into a fist. He drops it to his side and turns to open the car door. “Have a safe trip home.”

  Suddenly, I want to ask him to touch me. To do what he wanted to do, but I’m too thrown off; confused, because for a second, I wanted him. And the feeling of wanting someone like that, with such desire, scares me just a little bit. Perhaps the safest and smartest thing for me to do is just get in the car. To say good-bye to Zack, and remember this weekend as the first weekend I’ve had fun since the death of my family.

  I look at him one last time before climbing into the back of a very sleek Mercedes sedan. Mia crawls in after and I raise my hand, just briefly, before Zack closes the door.

  ***

  Zack

  “What’s your deal, man?” Chase asks me as soon as Darren drives away.

  I have no idea. I don’t pick up girls on my tours. I learned the hard way on the last one when some random chick I brought on the bus showed up at another concert a few weeks later claiming she was pregnant and the baby was mine.

  Like hell it was. I was safe, and she was stupid to think that I’d fall for her lies. It took weeks of my lawyer refusing to give her any money to ‘help care for the child’ before we learned the whole thing was a scam. The whole experience sobered me up pretty quickly and I stopped being such a dumbass.

  There’s something about this one though that I can’t stop thinking about. It could be her eyes and when she smiles, little lines crinkle around them but the blue color inside never changes. They’re expressionless but she isn’t at all, not when she’s talking about her job or laughing with her friend, Mia. Or even when she tolerates Jake flirting with her.

  I wanted to punch him when he got out of the dressing room first and waited for her in the hallway. I can never be mad at Jake, even though he gets some sick joy in giving me shit, but tonight it pissed me off.

  It could just be her amazing legs and how they looked in those damn red heeled shoes the other night.

  She’s hot as hell and doesn’t show it off in half-dressed clothes like most of the women who try to get our attention, and somehow it makes her even better looking.

  I need to get a grip and have a drink and forget all about Nicole. She has me twisted in a dozen ways and I’ve on
ly seen her twice.

  “You’re so screwed man,” Chase says and slaps me on the shoulder.

  I growl at him. “What are you talking about?”

  He laughs and lights up a cigarette. When he blows smoke rings on the exhale he’s got some smart ass grin on his face. My friends suck. “You watched that car leave tonight like you just lost your favorite puppy dog.”

  I don’t even like dogs, but I get his point. “Whatever. You didn’t seem too keen on getting rid of Mia.”

  He shrugs and takes another puff. “Yeah, but I’m going to see her in L.A. when we get done with this tour.”

  “Seriously?”

  “She doesn’t do relationships; I don’t do relationships…I offered to hook up when she comes out for work and she didn’t turn me down.”

  Maybe that’s what I need, one hook up with Nicole and I can get her out of my system. Except I don’t think that’ll work as well. Every time I move to touch her, she flinches just a little bit and her eyes widen like I’m going to hurt her. I want to know what the hell it is that hurt her so bad.

  Why? I have no idea. But I do.

  I turn to Chase. “You get Mia’s number?”

  He smiles and nods and makes absolutely no movement toward his phone to actually let me have it. The shit won’t give it to me. I’ll probably have to steal his phone while he’s sleeping. And then maybe stick his hand in a bowl of water just because I can.

  “She’s not like Rachel, you know.” I glare at Chase wondering what in the hell he means, but I already know. Rachel’s someone who is nice to have around when you need someone for the night. Unfortunately, things with Rachel ran its course when she started talking about moving in together and taking our relationship to the next level. Screw that, I thought the day she mentioned it to me.

  She’s a great screw, but all she cares about is her name in lights and on the front page of covers and I’m over that crap.

  “I know,” I say and run my hands through my hair, frustrated. Girls like Rachel are all I’ve had – all I’ve wanted – for years. But Nicole…hell, she had no idea who I was and even before Mia showed up I could tell she wanted me. She’s the first girl I’ve met in a decade that hasn’t flirted with me. She just blushed and rambled on about shoes, or something. I wasn’t exactly listening because all I could think about was how she would taste and how her hair would look splayed out all over my bed.

  I’m a mess.

  I punch Chase, only half-joking, in the shoulder and push my way past him to head to the bus. I’ll see her one more time and maybe that will get her out of my mind.

  I doubt it. I want her – for more than just a night. I want to understand all the scripted answers she’s given me and why she zones out with a look of sadness all over her face. I want to peel back the layers she’s put up, protecting herself from whatever it is that’s hurt her.

  And then maybe peel back that skirt she wore tonight….

  “You’re screwed, man!” Chase yells again when I hit the bus door. I flip him off without looking back and head to the kitchen for a drink.

  He’s right.

  I totally am.

  Chapter Five

  Nicole

  Bzzzz.......bzzzzzz......bzzzzzz.....

  I throw another armful of clothes from the week that has yet to make it back into my closet, as I search frantically for the source of the buzzing before I miss the call. It’s probably my mom calling for her weekly check-in. But this time I actually have something good to share with her. My mom was a lifesaver after Mark and Andrew's death. She stayed with me for weeks, practically force feeding me when I was too depressed to eat. She handled all the financial issues of their deaths, helped plan their memorial services, dealt with insurance companies, while I lay in my room practically catatonic with grief. After six weeks, I finally kicked her out and sent her home to my dad. And I know she still constantly worries about me...I suppose that's what moms will always do.

  There it is! I reach for the phone when it buzzes one more time, and slam my foot into my bed frame when I snap the phone open.

  "Hello?" It comes out sounding more like a moan since my teeth are clenched while I bite back the scream I want to yell. That freaking hurt. "Mom....?"

  "Uh....no...." says a deep masculine voice. I vaguely recognize it, but between the pain in my foot and the shock that a man is on the other end of my phone instead of my mom, I can’t place it. "Nicole? It's Zack."

  How did he get my number, is the first thought that flies through my mind. The second is wondering if I am ever going to stop making a complete fool out of myself around him. "Uh....yeah.... hi Zack."

  "Are you okay?"

  "Um...yeah...I'm fine. Just hit my foot. How did you get my number?" I sit down on my bed and rub my foot trying to make the pain go away, and wonder if I sound as stupid to him as I think I do. However, I am met with light laughter coming from the other end of the phone. "Are you laughing at me?"

  "Yeah, Nicole. I am. Mia gave it to me."

  “Mia gave you what?”

  His laughter increases. I like the way it sounds, I’m just tired of it being directed at me all the time. “Your number.”

  I mentally smack my forehead into the palm of my hand.

  “We're actually leaving town tonight to head for Chicago. But…” His voice trails off like he forgot what he was going to say. I notice that I have stopped breathing, completely, waiting to hear why he is calling, and my stomach is fluttering nervously out of control. “I was hoping I could see you again before we left town."

  What in the hell for?

  "I'm actually downstairs in your lobby. And I'm holding what Mia said is your favorite meal from the Thai restaurant down the street. Can I come up?"

  Thoughts of stabbing Mia in her sleep suddenly come to mind, or maybe worse, burning all of her beloved designer shoes. I should have known she’d push this as far as possible once I mentioned being open to dating.

  Zack clears his throat through the phone line. "So....lunch? Please?" Zack asks, interrupting my thoughts of plans to get back at Mia. It’s the please that does me in.

  I sigh in feigned defeat. My heart is thumping a gazillion beats a second in excitement at the thought of seeing him.

  "Come on up, I'm in 1012." And then drily add, "Unless Mia's already told you that, too." I buzz him in through the lobby and take a quick glance around my room.

  I hate her. And yet, I don’t. This is all so confusing to me.

  I shoot a quick text to Mia: You’re dead, woman.

  Her response is immediate: Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.

  I shake my head at her response, knowing there is no way I’m doing on a lunch date what Mia would. The very idea of being with a man alone makes me blush.

  I set down my phone, rush to my bedroom, and throw all my clothes in the bedroom closet, then put all the dirty dishes in the dishwasher, and wipe off the counter. I run to the bathroom and gasp. I have no make-up on, my unwashed hair is in a scraggly ponytail, and I’m wearing an old ratty t-shirt with yoga pants. I’m a hot mess.

  I throw some water on my face and in my hair to smooth out my ponytail, and run back to my closet to find a better shirt. Right as I’m wrestling myself into a light pink tank top, I hear a knock on my door.

  ***

  Zack stands in the hallway, looking just like I'd seen him on Wednesday night. The only difference is he has on a light blue t-shirt under his jacket instead of the grey shirt he'd been wearing. He looks good and my stomach flip-flops.

  Why am I suddenly so nervous? I’ve spent the last two nights around this guy and I haven’t once felt like throwing up.

  He smiles at me and holds up two large bags of take-out Thai. It smells delicious.

  "Come on in," I say and step back into the apartment. My kitchen is immediately to the right when you enter so I simply wave a hand to show him where he can set the food. I wonder briefly what Zack thinks of my place. It’s probably much smaller than
his – wherever he lives. Heck, my place is so small he has probably stayed in hotel suites larger than it.

  It strikes me how different our lives are. I’m just beginning mine again and it’s simple. He’s at the top of his career, famous, and probably lives in luxury. I’m not sure if this bothers me or not, so I push the thought out of my head and place it in my think-about-later-box.

  "So, I'm sorry to ambush you like this today." He doesn’t look sorry at all. He looks incredibly pleased with himself.

  “Sure you are.” I deadpan and turn around to grab some plates from the cupboards while Zack carries the food to the kitchen table just past the kitchen. To the left is the living room and as I reach for silverware and some water, I notice him walk over to the bookshelves where all of my favorite family photos sit.

  I brace myself for the questions that are sure to come when I join him in the dining area, but he says nothing.

  "So, Zack Walters," I begin with a playful smirk as I open up all the food and he joins me at the table. "You show up at my place, unannounced with food you knew was my favorite. All of which is potentially stalking behavior. Which makes me wonder....” I wait until we start eating to finish. “Are all those stories about you that I've heard about from Mia and her gossip magazine collection true?” At the questioning look in his eyes, I continue. “Are you really the playboy they make you out to be?" I’m not sure what I actually had expected his to response to be, but it definitely wasn't the sound of him choking on his food.

  "Are you okay!?" I squeal. He chugs his water while his face turns bright red. He nods his head and I can’t contain the laugh that pours out of me. I try to apologize, but I’m laughing too much to get anything out of me.

  Once he’s calmed himself down, and my laughter subsides, he leans forward slightly with his elbows on the table. I can’t take my eyes off him as he smiles at me.

  “As soon as all the fame hit, I found myself stabbed in the back by a lot of really close friends who I'd spent my entire life around. It made it hard to get close to new people. I’ve spent a lot of time with people who don’t mean much, or around people who my agent thinks I need to be seen with for whatever reason. I just….it’s been a long time since I wanted to be with someone. Most of those dates, were more like appointments. They are platonic and set up by agents who want me to be seen with someone, or someone wants to be seen with me.”