onze.

We spent four days in Los Angeles; the first three were jam packed with radio and TV interviews, as well as meet and greets and concerts.  Jessica and I tagged along to almost everything, me ever-present with my camera.  Taylor had come up with an idea to do a photo scrapbook of the new album’s release, and volunteered me to be the photographer behind the lens.  I couldn’t object to it; it meant not only could I do something I loved, but it also gave me an excuse to be close to Zac.

It was incredibly freeing behind that camera lens.  My thoughts were consumed with working on something I was passionate about; I could interact with each of the guys on varying levels, as well as see a different facet to their work.  For all my focus on the photography, I barely had time to think about Zac or our situation as we rushed from meeting to appearance to interview to concert.  We were up early in the morning and going to bed so late at night that the only thing any of us wanted when our keycards clicked in the slots was to pass out.

Zac and I slept in our own hotel rooms each of those three nights, but it didn’t bother me.  It actually felt good to know that I could easily slink in to his room at any moment but just didn’t want to.  I felt a weight lifted off me, and for once, not only did I sleep soundly, but despite getting roughly four hours of sleep a night, woke refreshed and ready to face the day’s tasks.

The last day we spent in LA, the guys didn’t have any meetings or appearances to make, no concerts to perform or other events to attend.  This was everyone’s play day.  While we had agreed a celebratory dinner should be had that evening, the rest of the day was our own.  Jessica decided she’d like to sleep in, so Taylor and I spent the morning pouring over the photos I had taken over the past three days, choosing the best ones for the photo book.  We got in to intense debates over which could be edited and which would be best suited in their original format.

There were so many pictures; it would probably take us a week just to sort through them all.  Taylor sat hunched over the computer screen, coffee cup in hand, inspecting the composition of each photo, his brows ever-furrowed over his blue eyes in concentration.  By the time Zac walked in to the room at noon, we had already been sifting through the photos for over three hours.

Tay and I both looked up, eyebrows raised.  “So, I was going to rent a car and ride up the PCH for some beach relaxation.  Anyone wanna come with me?” he looked pointedly at me.

I looked at Tay, shrugging.  “Actually, I could use a break; my eyes are crossing staring at this screen…if that’s OK with you,”

Stretching and yawning, Tay nodded.   “Sounds fine; I’m going to pass—I think I want to take a nap while I can.  We can work on this some more tomorrow,” he added, getting up.

As soon as Taylor was out of sight, I got up off the couch and practically skipped to my room.  I was starting to feel giddy—this was the first actual date Zac and I had ever been on, and the first time in nearly a month that he and I were able to have some legitimate alone time.  I quickly gathered my things, clicking off a mental checklist of everything I needed or wanted to bring with me, then headed back in to the common area.

“Ready?” I nodded vigorously and he grabbed his guitar case and a small beach bag before leading me out of the hotel.  We took a taxi to the nearest car rental, and Zac rented a pick up, forcefully telling the clerk he wanted nothing else..  Once we had our vehicle, we loaded our things in to it, and Zac put on a Simon and Garfunkle mix in the background.  Once we were settled, we began the drive north along the Pacific Coast Highway in the early afternoon sun.

It took us maybe thirty minutes to get to our destination:  El Matador Beach.  We had to trek over rocks and uneven sand dunes to get to the spot Zac had selected for us.  When we emerged on the shoreline, we were in a semi-secluded alcove.  There was a fallen tree to one side, and some rocks on the other.  Zac set down his bag on the soft sand of the beach, and then pulled a blanket from its depths.  He sat down, motioning for me to join him.  I plopped down, kicking my flip-flops off and turning my face up to the sun.

I took in a deep breath, letting the salt-water air fill my lungs.  I smiled as I listened to the waves crashing against the shore.  I sighed and lay back on the blanket.  Zac fussed in the bag next to me for a while before I heard the snap of his lighter, followed by the earthy smell of pot.  I popped an eye open and saw he was offering me a joint that he held between his fingers.  I took it, inhaled three times, and passed it back.

We passed it back and forth, the effects falling upon almost immediately.  I felt myself began to float into a fuzzy haze that encompassed my whole body and began to smile widely, lying back on the blanket again.  A few seconds later, I heard Zac open his guitar case and lift the instrument out.  I opened my eyes again and watched him in my periphery.  He began twisting the tuning keys, grimacing when he couldn’t quite get the High E to tune properly.

When he finally got all the strings in perfect tune, he began strumming chords, then humming along.  I just watched and listened, fascinated, as his fingers moved effortlessly over the strings, his forehead creasing, as he got lost in the moment.   I listened to the words he had begun singing, butterflies settling in my stomach as I heard the sad…desperation, in his voice.  The words flowed over and through me; a masqueraded confession.

“Awoken by the sunlight


Even though I shut the shade last night


Someone cast a shadow through the peephole, looking in


Your touch makes the goose bumps roll like thunder outside


I got the feeling that the storm is about to arrive

 

Sonny get your gun


It may be over for you and me


If we have to run


You will be running next to me

 

Studying the cracks on the wall


Waiting for the axe to fall


Someone keeps on calling on the phone


Message lights blinking on


Listen for the footsteps


Distracted by you slipping on your sundress


You can’t distract the man that’s standing at the door

 

Sonny get your gun


It may be over for you and me


If we have to run


You will be running next to me

If we have to run

Sonny get your gun


Sonny get your gun

 

Dust on the lampshade


Fear on the floor


Here in the moment you learn things you’d like to ignore


My shaking hand reminds me that I’m not that tough


But for you Sonny, I know I’d give it all up


I’m never gonna let you go

 

Sonny get your gun


It may be over for you and me


If we have to run


You will be running next to me

I’m never gonna let you go”

“That…that was incredible,” I managed to whisper when he had finished.

A wide smile broke out on his lips.  “You liked it?” he asked.

“I loved it…it was just gorgeous.”

“Good…” he paused, looking down at the blanket sheepishly, the smile spreading wider.  He looked like he was going to say something else, but thought better of it.  The smile just stayed on his lips and he nodded.  “I’m glad.”  He starting strumming the guitar again, the familiar chords to “American Pie” flowing easily from beneath his fingers.  I laid back and sang along with the song, letting the sun wash over my skin.

This is how it’s supposed to feel, I say to myself. This is what it feels like to be an actual couple…to not have to hide or lie. It was absolute bliss.

**

All too-soon, it was time to head back so we could get ready for dinner.  I climbed in to the passenger seat of the Tacoma, a satisfied feeling in my heart as we drove back to the hotel.  We didn’t speak, just held hands loosely across the bench seat, letting the wind blow through our hair, the radio turned up.  I turned my eyes to Zac as he drove, his eyes bright and his skin tan.

I had somehow persuaded him to let take control of the radio, a feat I had found most failed at accomplishing.  Feeling proud, I plugged my iPhone in to the auxiliary jack and put it on shuffle.  As each song played on our drive, I carefully watched Zac for his reactions:  I saw a mixture of surprise, disgust, and approval cross his face as the music played.  There were quite a few songs he audibly groaned at, and even a few he begged me to change.

We were just pulling in to the parking lot when “Fat Bottom Girls” began playing.  Zac chuckled.  “Figures the one good song you have on your playlist starts once we get to our destination.”

I can only roll my eyes in response, bribing him out of the vehicle with promises of sexual favors later.  Begrudgingly, he led me in to the lobby.  There were a few prying eyes around, so I stood a safe distance away, occupying myself with my phone.  I thought I saw a camera flash go off not too far away, and out of the corner of my eye I was sure I saw a group of giggling girls huddled in a corner of the lobby.

The elevator was taking its excruciatingly sweet time arriving in the lobby.  When the doors finally opened, a loud ‘ding’ jarring through the lobby, I rushed on to it, welcoming the relief of being absent from other people.  As soon as the doors slid closed, Zac was at my side, gently cupping my face in his hands and pressing his lips to mine.  It was the first real kiss we’d shared in six weeks; it was just as sweet and caring as it was passionate and lusting.

Another ding indicated that we had reached our floor all-too-quickly.  With a small whimper and pout, I pulled away from Zac just as the doors slid open.  We walked to our suite in silence, each lost in our own thoughts.  As we neared the suite, Zac dug his keycard out of his pocket and in one swift movement unlocked and opened the door, letting me walk in ahead of him.

I was greeted by Jessica’s voice, catching the tail end of her sentence:  “…worried about him,”

“We’re all worried about him,” I heard Taylor reply with a snort.

“Worried about who?”  Zac asked a wide smile on his face; both Jessica and Taylor physically jumped, startled by his voice.

“Zac!” Jessica shouted, breathlessly.  “When did you get so freaking stealth?!” she chucked a throw pillow in our general direction, but it went wide to the right and wound up just skimming the wall beside us.

“Worried about who?” Zac asked again, his tone a little more serious.  The way Jessica’s eyes darted from Zac to me, then back, immediately let me know who and what they were talking about.  My face grew hot and my mouth dry.

Taylor took the opportunity to interject, always the voice of reason.  “Why don’t we all get ready and we’ll discuss it at dinner?

This beautiful day was about to get the shit kicked out of it.

 

 

 

 

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