8. Zayn
Zayn
Not having anything better to do and needing to keep up appearances, I enter the venue. I snake my way through the back hallways, keeping my head down, and finally find my way to the large room where the event is being held tonight.
I’ve managed to avoid anyone with a camera or microphone. So far, so good.
Peering around the room, I don’t see Annie. She perhaps found someone she knows, or maybe she’s checking out the opposite side of the venue.
I requested a seat at the back, not wanting to get any attention, and my request was granted.
Logan let me know ahead of time, so I head straight to my table.
As I approach I notice that it provides me a better view of the dance floor than the stage, but I don’t mind.
I wasn’t going to stay the entire time, anyway; I’ll likely leave within the hour.
The firm never said how long I had to stay, just that I had to make an appearance.
If no one sees me, that’s not my fault. Entirely.
Over the course of the next hour, people file into the hall and I have the pleasure of people watching.
Each person is dressed to the nines in every color imaginable and accompanied by a date.
No one walks in alone. Besides me. I’m still alone.
I’m tempted to text Annie, but what would I say?
Sorry, again? It’s not you, it’s me? I can’t think when I’m around you, why did you wear that goddamn dress ?
Forest green is officially my favorite color.
At least my table is fairly empty, besides another pair that took seats directly across from me.
They are as far away from me as they can get without actually leaving the table.
I feel like I was sat at the table with all of the rejects, or the singles.
The table that most try to stay clear of, especially at an event like this.
The type of event where your name isn’t just known in this city, but across the state, maybe even the country.
The servers circle the table, bringing dinner and refilling drinks, and I still don’t know where Annie is.
I don’t think she’s at a different table.
At least, not that I can see with the lowlights of the venue.
My gaze ping-pongs from my plate to the room whenever I hear someone speak, thinking it may be Annie finally coming to find me.
Except, normally, it’s just the couple in front of me, singing alone to the God-awful music the DJ is playing a few tables over.
If I roll my eyes one more time, they might just fall out of their sockets.
“Alright, folks, it’s time to slow it down. Grab your partner and make your way to the dance floor. Time to loosen up so your wallets are loose later for the silent auction!” The DJ’s voice booms over the microphone.
The music slows down, playing some tune I don’t recognize, but the dance floor fills in anyway.
Couples flock from every direction, grabbing hands and waists, pulling each other closer and beginning to sway.
Usually, this is when I’d walk up to the bar, down a shot of tequila, and find the prettiest girl in the place.
Tonight, I already know who that pretty girl would be. I shake my head at the thought. Something must be in the air. My emotions are all out of wack and it’s all because of Annie, who smells like a fucking cookie. My mouth waters just thinking of her, picturing her sitting in the chair next to me.
Instead, she’s not...
Wait...
Annie is on the dance floor. Dancing.
Some random man’s hands are on Annie’s waist, a little too low, if you ask me.
A growl escapes my mouth. I thought I wanted more eyes on her, but what I’m wondering is if I meant only my eyes, not anyone else's.
She should not be dancing with some random person she barely knows, she should be dancing with. ..
Me? Fuck. No, she shouldn’t dance with me. She barely knows me, and I’m the last person she wants to see. Except I can’t just sit here and watch her dance with him. If anyone's hands are going to be around her waist, it should be mine, not his.
I waste no time scooting back my chair. The screech from the legs on the hard floor gets the attention of my table mates, both of their heads whipping toward me with their jaws dropped.
It’s like they planned that. Refraining from rolling my eyes at them, I keep my mouth shut in a thin-lipped smile.
My head dips in a brief nod before I storm toward the dance floor.
Lights in the shades of blue and purple bounce off the tiles, helping lead my way to Annie.
She is smiling, laughing at some joke this guy must have told her.
Am I going to be the asshole and interrupt her time?
She clearly seems to be enjoying someone else, actually having a conversation with them, being her normal, happy self.
But I know better.
She’s hiding. The smile, it’s not real. Want to know how I know?
Well, easy. When she smiles at me, truly smiles, her eyes get a little crinkle on the outsides.
Her smile is so wide that it even manages to crinkle her nose, just a little bit.
And now, she’s distant. Sure, she’s smiling, but it’s small.
Barely more than a smirk. Her eyes are down, rarely meeting his gaze unless he says something to her directly.
It’s only been a fucking week since we reconnected, and I’m realizing I know her better than I want to. That’s a problem I will think about later. Right now, we’re going to dance.
“You’re dancing with my date,” I say loud enough for the guy to hear me and know I’m directing my attention at him. I don’t know him, but he knows me. I can tell by the way his eyes widen when he turns around, and by how quickly he hands Annie off to me without a word.
Annie hesitates, looking around the room to see if she can run.
But she can’t, not without people noticing.
She wraps her hands around my neck, standing as far away from me as possible.
Her fingers are barely snagged around me.
Both of my hands find their place on her waist. I apply a small amount of pressure, silently begging her to move a little closer, to wrap her hands even tighter around me.
She gives me an inch more, which I accept.
“What do you want?” Annie looks up, but her eyes barely meet mine.
“I...” I did not think this through.
My brain is thinking about Annie, but more of what my hands would do to her if I had her dress on the floor instead of snapped on her body.
“I wanted to say I’m sorry.” I grimace at the words.
I haven’t apologized to anyone since Marissa, not giving two shits about anyone other than myself.
And Kiley, obviously I’ve never been mean to my sister, just closed off.
“Sorry?” Annie’s brows raise, not believing my apology.
“Yes, I, um, am not embarrassed to be seen with you or worried about my brother seeing us together. You didn’t deserve for me to treat you that way, and I hated watching you walk away angry.” The words come out choppy, but at least they are honest.
Why am I suddenly wanting to impress this woman?
Someone my brother dated, mind you. What about her gets under my skin?
Annie is the type of woman you bring home to your parents.
Someone with a great smile, a nice attitude, and someone who would show you love, unconditionally.
In some ways, I’m triggered by my past relationship, having been with someone for twelve years.
Marissa was my high-school sweetheart. We didn’t have a perfect relationship, but we were on again, off again for twelve years.
Throughout that time, there were multiple long breaks where I wasn’t sure if we’d get back together.
When I turned twenty-nine, I finally felt like it might be time to settle down.
We had conversations about our future, the kind of house we’d want, having kids, and any other major topic you can think about when you think about a married couple.
So, I did what was next in the evolution of our relationship. I proposed.
I created a scavenger hunt to all of our first locations, a note at each one with a clue to the next spot.
It all ended on the beach, the place where I first told her I loved her.
The beach is now my least favorite place to go because that’s also where the proposal ended with her telling me no.
Apparently she forgot to mention in all of our many, many, conversations that she wanted to travel more and felt like marrying me would hold her back.
A decade and some change gone, just like that.
Then, here comes Annie. The instant I met her at my parents house, I felt a spark, a small connection from just her smile, and I thought it could have been the universe giving me a sign.
Maybe I needed someone like this, someone the complete opposite of anyone I’ve ever been with.
When I found out she was dating Dan and wasn’t just there to hang out with Kiley, I instantly shut myself off from the connection.
The constant thumping in my chest when I look at her should be enough to warn me that nothing good will come from being around her.
She’s too nice for her own good, smiling and acknowledging anyone around her.
When Annie is around, you feel... lighter.
As if her presence helps extinguish any negativity.
And now, her soft curves entice me to trail my fingers around the natural shape of her body.
With each song, Annie steps slightly closer. Closing the gap between us, inch by inch.
“I am sorry, Annie. I, um, don’t apologize often, so I guess I also apologize if this apology sounds terrible.” A nervous chuckle escapes my lips.
“It’s not as bad as you think, Mr. Barnes.
” Annie’s head makes contact with my chest, her ear resting on my heart.
Can she feel the effect she’s having on me?
We continue to sway, mimicking the beats of the song.
The dance floor isn’t as packed as it was, but there is still a decent crowd sheltering us from wandering eyes.
“I’m not used to having people...” I hesitate, not wanting to erase the small amount of grace she’s given me, but I’m also trying to practice honesty.
“I’m usually alone. I choose to be alone and I don’t think a PR firm can just fix me, make the media all of a sudden like me.
If it were up to me, I would do this alone. ”
Annie lifts her head from my chest, stopping the sway of our bodies. “Is that so?” Her head tilts to the side, her brows furrow. I feel her hands slip from my neck, trailing down my body until they are at her side.
“Fuck, that’s not what I meant.”
“You wouldn’t have said it if you didn’t mean it.” Annie retorts, crossing her arms over her chest, pushing up her breasts. That’s not the kind of distraction I need right now.
“Annie, I—”
“You know what, Zayn? I was giving you the benefit of the doubt, but you’re just like your brother.”
My brother? What did he do to her? I know his character, so I’m sure he wasn’t the best to be around, but I’m not like him. He’s heartless, shut off, and thinks only about himself.
I’m...
All of those things.
But, I wasn’t always like that.
“I—” I start to say something, I want to say something, anything to salvage tonight.
Except, what good would that do me? Isn’t this what I want?
I don’t need her pity, or her nice attitude.
What I need is to appear happy to the outside world, smile at the right people, and land my role.
That’s my priority and the only thing important to me.
Annie shakes her head, turns on her heel, and walks away. This time, she doesn’t look back.