Marie Sexton - Coda 03 - The Letter Z (10 page)

“You wanna talk to me just ’cause you think I’m an easy lay?’” I ask.

His cheeks turn bright red, and he says, “No.”
“You gonna tell me how I’m no good for Zach?”
“No.”
“You gonna tell me how you deserve him more than me?” “No.”
“Yes.”
He looks confused at that. “Yes? What do you mean? Yes, what?” “Yes, I’ll talk to you for a minute.”

Jared heads for the elevator, but Matt stays where he is, standin’ next to me. I look over at him, and he says, “I’m staying.”

 

“I don’t need a babysitter,” I say, but we both know I’m not makin’ any guarantees.

He gives me that half-ass grin he gets, with one eyebrow up, and says, “We’ll see, hothead.” He walks over to the other end of the bar, out of earshot, and sits down.

“All right, man. I’m listenin’. What the fuck you want?”

To my surprise, he looks sheepishly at the floor. A second later, his eyes come up and meet mine, and what I see there isn’t judgment or disdain. It’s shame. “I want you to know how sorry I am about—” he stumbles for a moment, then says, quieter, “about what I said.”

“’Bout sayin’ I’m only good for baggin’ groceries or callin’ me an easy lay?” I ask, and he winces. I’m glad. I got no desire to make this easy for him.

“Both,” he says quietly, “but especially the second one. It was a terrible thing to say, and I hope you can forgive me. It was jealousy speaking. I know that’s a terribly lousy excuse, but the truth is, it’s the only one I have.” I actually feel a little off balance now. Last thing I was expectin’ was an apology. I kinda want to still be pissed at him, but it’s harder now. “Really,” he says, his voice real quiet, “I’m not usually….”

He lets his sentence trail away, and I say, “You’re not
usually
a ragin’ asshole?”

 

He smiles at me, just a little. “I like to think I’m not.”

 

And as much as I hate to admit it, I know it’s probably the truth. ’Cause Zach wouldn’t have been with him for so long if he was. “Can’t exactly say I’m happy you saved up all your dickhead moments for me,” I say.

 

He smiles a little more, still lookin’ sheepish. “I’m not happy about it either. And I truly am sorry,” he says again.

“Yeah, okay.” Not used to havin’ people apologize to me, and I’m not sure what to do. “Forget about it.” I’m thinkin’ that’s my cue to leave, but he stops me.

“Can I buy you a drink?” he asks.
I can’t help but be suspicious and I ask, “Why?”
He shrugs. “I’d just like to talk to you for a bit.”
It’s fuckin’ weird, but what’ve I got to lose?

We sit at the bar next to each other, and he orders a glass of wine for himself and a beer for me. He’s the kinda guy who pays attention to details. He orders the same kind of beer I had the night before, without havin’ to ask. For a minute we just sit there, and I’m wonderin’ what the fuck I’m doin’ there. Then suddenly he says, “I never meant to let him go, you know.”

“The way I heard it, you’re the one who left.”

“You heard right,” he says with a sigh. “I thought I would be back. That’s why I left Geisha behind. I knew she didn’t like him. I didn’t think I was leaving for good.” He’s not lookin’ at me. He’s messin’ with the cocktail napkin under his wine glass, foldin’ it up over the bottom of the glass, round and round ’til it’s all wrapped around the base of the glass, then smoothin’ it out and doin’ it again. “I was just trying to make him wake up. I wanted him to get his shit together, you know? Quit drinking so much and getting high every night and sleeping around. I wanted him to grow up and quit drifting.” He stops and drinks some of his wine. He’s still not lookin’ at me, and after a bit he starts talkin’ again, quieter now. “I thought he would call. I thought he would realize we were worth fighting for. I waited and waited, and by the time I realized he
wasn’t
going to call, it was too late.” Not sure what to say to that, but it seems like maybe he doesn’t expect me to say anything. Like maybe he just needs somebody to hear it. And for some reason, that somebody is me.

“Why didn’t you call him?” I finally ask. “I think he woulda been glad to have you back.”

He shrugs a little. “Because I didn’t want to go back if he hadn’t changed. And I was afraid if I called I’d only find out that he was happier without me. It seems so stupid now, but….” He lets that sentence trail away. “All that time we were together, it just seemed like he never knew what to do with his life. Like he never had a direction. He never had a purpose. Even in bed, he didn’t know what he wanted.”

He stops short, and I know he wishes he hadn’t said that last part.

“The only thing Zach ever wants in bed is to please the guy he’s there with,” I say. He looks a little surprised at that. He’s still not lookin’ at me, but I can see that he’s thinkin’ ’bout that. “You think he didn’t know what he wanted? What that really means is, he couldn’t figure out what
you
wanted.”

He’s quiet for a minute, lost in thought. Then he says, “I guess, when I saw him again, I thought, ‘Here’s the Zach I was waiting for’, you know? I could tell he finally had a purpose. He had a
direction
.” He stops again for a second, and then, “I didn’t realize until later that his purpose was you.”

“Me?”

He looks over at me in surprise. “Zach’s never bothered to fight for anything in his life. Not for his degree. Not for a job. Certainly not for me. But there’s not a doubt in my mind he’s ready to fight for you.”

And the crazy thing is, I think maybe he’s right.
We finish our drinks in silence, and then he gets up and holds his hand out. I shake it, and he smiles at me. “I hope if we meet again, we can start over, Angelo. I would like to think we could do better.”
“Sure couldn’t do much worse.”
And he actually smiles at that. “Take care, Angelo.”
Matt’s been sittin’ at the other end of the bar the whole time. Once Jonathan leaves, he comes over, and we head for the elevators.
“What was that all about?” he asks me.
I don’t answer him. My mind is elsewhere. I’m thinkin’ ’bout what Jonathan said: that I’m Zach’s purpose. I think ’bout Zach earlier that day saying, “You’re my whole life.” I think ’bout what Matt said to me the day before.
“You really think Zach’s compass points at me?” I ask.
Matt looks surprised for a second, but then he says, “I’m positive. You are his north.”
We don’t talk the rest of the way to our rooms. He’s lookin’ at me funny, tryin’ to figure out what’s goin’ on in my head, but I’m not ready to tell him. I’m not sure I even could. Not sure I understand it yet myself.
Is it possible that I give somethin’ to Zach just by bein’ there?
When I walk into the room, Zach’s sittin’ on the bed waitin’ for me.

I stop short when I see him. Tryin’ to figure out how to ask him the question in my head.

 

He comes over to me and tips my chin up so he can look in my eyes. “Is everything okay?” he asks me.

 

“Fine.” He’s lookin’ at me, like he’s searchin’, tryin’ to decide whether I’m tellin’ him the truth.

“What did Jonathan want?”
“Mostly, he wanted to apologize.”

He looks relieved at that. He wraps one arm around my waist. His other hand is still against my cheek. “He’s not a bad person,” he says gently.

“Wouldn’t have believed that last night,” I say, “but now, I think I do.”

 

“He apologized, and that’s it?”

 

“Says he never meant to let you go. He thought he was comin’ back. He thought you would call. That’s why he left Geisha.”

His eyes close for a second, and he takes a shaky breath. I can tell it hurts him a little, realizin’ that maybe they could have made it work if he had only tried. But then he opens his eyes again and looks into mine, and his voice is steady when he says, “I never loved him the way I love you.”

He’s still lookin’ in my eyes, tryin’ to find somethin’, but I’m not sure what. I’m thinkin’ ’bout whether it can be true that I’ve been givin’ him somethin’ all along, and not even knowin’ it. “Zach, am I your north?”

He blinks at me once, confused, ’cause of course my question makes no sense. But then he says, with a sincerity that can’t be mistaken, “You are my everything.”

“Zach?”
“Yeah?”
“Shut up and kiss me.”

He doesn’t hesitate this time at all. His lips are so soft against mine, and I know I’ve really come home now. I know we’re gonna be all right. After a few seconds, he pulls back again. He’s lookin’ down at me, and I can tell there’s still somethin’ on his mind.

“What’s wrong?” I ask.
“Not a thing.”
“Then what’s up with you?”

He gives me a nervous smile. “You want to go out for a bit? Just you and me?”

 

“Sure.”

Zach hardly ever blushes, but he’s blushin’ now. There are spots of color high on his cheeks. He hesitates for just a second, but then he asks in a quiet voice, “Will you do something for me?”

“Depends on what it is,” I say.

Those spots of color are even brighter, but I can tell he’s not backin’ out now. He pulls somethin’ out of his pocket and offers it to me, lookin’ scared but hopeful at the same time. I look down at what’s in his hand, and I laugh.

It’s eyeliner.
“Is that all?” I ask, and I see both relief and excitement in his eyes. “I bought the hair gel too,” he says, smilin’ at me.
“You really thought this through, didn’t you?”

He pushes me back against the wall. His lips are against my neck, and his groin pushes into me. His voice is low and breathless. “I want to go back to the club.”

“You do?” I ask, surprised.
“I want to watch you dance. I want to watch all of those men try to make you theirs. And then,” he says, pushing against me even harder, and there’s no doubt how turned on he is just thinkin’ ’bout it, “I want to bring you back here and prove to myself that you’re mine.”

“You’re actually a tiny bit kinky, aren’t you Zach?”

 

He’s still rubbin’ against me, his hands wanderin’. His lips against my neck are becoming more insistent. “You can say no,” he says.

I know I can. And that’s why I don’t.
It’s been a lotta years since I did this, but it’s not like I don’t know how. I slick my hair back on the sides, but spike it up on top. Black all around my eyes, and smeared over my lids. Have to admit, I’m glad I don’t have to face Matt like this. He’d never stop laughin’. But for Zach, I’ll do it. When I come out of the bathroom, Zach’s eyes get huge. I can tell he likes it.
“As good as Ziggy Stardust?” I ask him, smilin’.
“Better,” he says, and I laugh.
At least in Vegas, hardly anybody looks twice at a guy wearin’

makeup. We walk out of the hotel and catch a cab to the club. Zach finds a stool near the dance floor. I go up to the bar and order two shots of tequila. The bartender gives me a wary look as he puts them on the bar. “No trouble tonight,” he says.

 

“No trouble,” I say, and slam both shots. “I need a glass of wine too. You have any Spanish reds?”

 

He looks at me like I’m an idiot. Guess maybe I am. “Yeah right, buddy.”

 

It was worth a try. “Whatever red you got.”

I take the glass back to Zach, and the look he gives me when I hand it to him is worth lookin’ like an ass in front of the bartender. He kisses me once, deep and slow, and then whispers in my ear, “No sex.”

“I know.”
He smiles at me. “Have fun.”

When we were here before, I didn’t have time to find good partners—guys who are there for the same thing: not necessarily to get laid right away, but just to get turned on. Tonight I find them: the tattooed guy from before, and two others. The four of us trade off a lot.

I find out that dancin’ for Zach is different than dancin’ for myself. It’s better. I love knowin’ his eyes are on me. It’s the best aphrodisiac in the world.

I never let them kiss me, but one guy sucks my neck hard enough, I know I’m gonna have a mark. I slide my hand down his pants. I wrap my hand around his shaft and rub my thumb over the wet spot on his tip, ’til he says in a hoarse, teasing voice, “You better stop if you don’t want a mess on your hands.” I laugh, and we switch partners again.

I keep one eye on Zach. He’s cute as hell, and to anybody watchin’, he looks like he’s alone. Several guys talk to him. One buys him a drink. He flirts a little, but he’s always watchin’ me. He never lets any of them get too close. There’s one I can tell he likes. He flirts with him more than any of the others. He even lets the guy put his hand on the small of his back. The guy leans close and whispers somethin’ in Zach’s ear. Zach smiles, but then he says somethin’ to the guy, and points my way. I don’t miss the look the guy gives him then—disappointed, but a little bit impressed too—and Zach just beams at him.

I end up with the tattooed guy a lot. We go up to the bar to get a drink together once. “You here with that guy?” he asks, pointin’ over at Zach.

“Yeah. Why?”
“Just curious.”
“How ’bout you?” I ask.

“The one who left that mark on your neck,” he says, smilin’. “We’ve been together five years.”

 

I can’t help but smile back. “That’s great, man.”

He follows me back to the dance floor and wraps his arms ’round me from behind. He rubs his hand between my legs, then slides it into my pocket. He slowly strokes me as he grinds into me. I put one of my hands behind me and squeeze the bulge in his pants. I close my eyes, put my head back on his shoulder, and get lost in the sensation of it all. I think ’bout the guy I’m dancin’ with, and his partner, whose suckin’ on somebody else’s neck right now. I think ’bout what they’ll be doin’ together when they get home tonight. I think ’bout Zach, and how excited I know he’s gettin’. I don’t know how long we dance like that, just grindin’ and strokin’ each other, but then suddenly he says in my ear, “Your boyfriend wants you.”

I look at Zach, and he nods his head toward the back of the club, where the bathrooms are.

 

“You coming back?” Tattoo shouts at me as I start to walk away. “No idea,” I yell back, and then go to meet Zach on the edge of the dance floor.

I can tell just by lookin’ at him how turned on he is. Not just by the bulge in his pants, either. It’s all in his eyes. He wraps his arms ’round me, pulls me tight against him. His voice in my ear is breathless. “I can’t believe how much I want you right now.”

“You wanna go back to the hotel?” I ask.
But to my surprise, he shakes his head. “No.”