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{Zach}
We hopped off the small stage at a local campus bar, The Ivy League.
"That was a fucking good set!" Grant yelled. He flexed his bulging biceps and set his black guitar down on a stand.
"You're telling me," Jonas cried, high-fiving him. The bassist was the brains of the operation. He was tall, clean-cut, and put together with short black hair and a quiet confidence.
Aaron flipped his drumstick in his hand and nodded. His shaggy brown hair fell into his eyes, and he swished it to the side. He was tall and lanky with an I-could-not-care-less attitude, but he always managed to mellow us out. "Killer. I need a beer."
"Me, too," I said, nodding at my bandmates and sticking a pick into the front pocket of my jeans.
"Beer first and then bitches," Grant said. He clapped me on the back and made his way toward the stage door that exited to the bar.
As soon as the door opened, the screaming began. I smiled and ran a hand back through my dark brown hair. After the music, this was the best part. I lived and breathed music, but damn, the chicks I would get from doing what I loved didn't hurt.
I followed the rest of the guys out the door, and I was immediately surrounded by a crowd of girls. I had my pick of the litter at this party. I liked when my biggest decision of the night was blonde or brunette. The Gallagher crowd was one of the best. As smart as the chicks were, they would all act dumb and turn into putty in my hands.
Even though none of us had actually gone to Gallagher, I considered the League our home base. Jonas had hooked us up with a semiregular deal. Now that we all lived in the area, we would play shows every other week or so. We'd moved here from the Virginia Beach area after graduation and stayed. I wasn't even from Virginia, like the other guys. My parents had relocated from Maine when I was ten. That was before shit had hit the fan.
A beer was passed to me almost instantly, and as I took a swig, I slung my arm around the closest girl to me. "What's your name, darlin'?"
"Kimberly," she peeped, exposing more cleavage as she pressed herself against me.
My mind wandered, and I started thinking about how fast I could get her out of that top and get my hands on her. I scanned the other girls around her, my eyes instantly drawn to a girl with a nicer rack.
"Well, Kimberly, do you know that girl right there?" I asked, pointing her out.
"My friend, Tina?"
"Tina, darlin', come over here." I crooked my finger at her.
Her eyes widened, and she jogged over. It was a beautiful sight.
"Oh my God, you're Zachary Goode," Tina groaned.
"That I am." I finished off my beer and another appeared in my hand.
A second later, Jonas and Aaron showed up with a girl carrying a tray full of shots. After tossing back a couple, I decided to cut the small talk and get down to business. Neither girl protested.
I'd barely wrangled her and her friend into a corner before Big Tits had her tongue down my throat. I knew the place wasn't crowded enough to push the other chick to her knees, but the alcohol was kicking in, and I was seriously contemplating it. It wouldn't have been the first time. As if she'd read my mind, the chick started working on my belt buckle, and I just fisted her hair as a thank you. At least I knew how the night was going to go.
"Bro!" Grant called.
I broke away from Big Tits long enough to send Grant a fuck-off look as he jogged up to where I was standing. "Kind of busy, Grant."
Grant scoffed at me. "You can do better."
The girls gasped. I took in another look at them and wondered why they were acting all offended. Grant was probably right. I could do better, but I'd been heading toward something pretty nice.
Oh, well. Later perhaps. I nodded my head at Grant. "True."
"Pig," Kimberly grumbled, standing swiftly. She grabbed Tina's hand, flipped me off, and dragged her away.
I bet they'd still do me if I asked.
"Sorry to cockblock, but I totally just drugged some chick," Grant said, smiling like a total dope while crossing his arms over his chest.
"You just did what?" I furrowed my brow. "What the fuck did you do that for?"
"So, look, I know this chick Bex. She follows us around when we tour, and she brought her fucking hot roommates with her tonight. I picked one out, but she turned me down flat."
My eyebrows shot up. I was as straight as the next guy, but even I could admit that Grant was a good-looking guy. He had the gym-rat look going for him—tan skin, styled hair, and built like a tank.
"You finally meet a chick who says no, and your response is to slip something into her drink? What the fuck is wrong with you? You don't drug girls to get them to have sex with you. You move on to the next one. Seriously, Grant, you're the scum of the earth."
"Yeah, bro. Are you just figuring this shit out?"
Grant cracked up, laughing at himself and all I could do was shake my head at my bandmate's insanity.
"You're a fucking imbecile, Grant."
He shrugged like he didn't care, but this was low, even for him. Although he couldn't get any girl he wanted like I could, it just seemed unnecessary. Not to mention, adding date rape to his record sounded pretty shitty.
"Just take a look at this chick, though, man."
"All right, show me which piece of ass turned down my man."
Grant pointed out a small blonde chick standing against a column surrounded by a few other girls, nursing a pint of beer. She looked completely out of place but coherent. I watched as she buttoned and unbuttoned the top of her cardigan. She didn't seem to be showing any side effects I would assume she'd have if Grant had really drugged her. Actually, she just appeared really uptight and vigilant. She looked like a cork, and I wanted to be the corkscrew—uncap that pressure and help her explode.
"No wonder she turned you down. The girl has a boyfriend," I told him automatically.
"She could be a closet nymph, and I bring out her inner sex kitten," Grant said, raising an eyebrow.
"No way. Boyfriend. I'll find out how serious it is." I winked at Grant and then started walking over toward the girl.
"Bro!"
I turned back around with my signature smirk already fastened into place. I was ready to go for the kill.
"You actually going to give her to me, man?" Grant asked, concerned.
"Sure. After I'm done with her."
I heard Grant cussing me out, but I tuned him out as I was striding toward the blonde. Grant wouldn't mind sloppy seconds. Plus, no one kept me interested very long anyway.
{Cammie}
"Zach Goode is walking over here," Bex whispered. "Zach Goode is walking over here!" She grabbed Macey's arm and started bouncing up and down. Her dark curled hair flounced all around her.
Liz paced a little. Her blonde bob was as stylish as ever. She was generally quiet and extremely brilliant—much different than the rest of us. But we loved her nonetheless. "Oh my God, he's so gorgeous."
"I just can't believe it." Macey swished her raven hair over her shoulder. "He looks even better up close."
"Do I have to be the one to ask?" I messed with the button on my cardigan. "Who is Zach Goode?"
All three girls turned and stared at me at once. Yeah, I guess I'm that person.
"What planet do you live on?" Bex asked. "I mean, I know Josh just broke up with you, but I can't believe it addled your brain that much."
"Aw, that's cute, Bex. You think my brain is addled."
"Don't even start with me," Bex snapped.
"All right. It doesn't matter," Macey said, jumping between Bex and me.
"Didn't you watch the show, Cammie?" Liz asked.
"Um…kind of?"
Okay…I hadn't really been paying attention. I'd had no interest in attending the concert in the first place, so I'd been going over the calculus lecture from yesterday in my head while I sipped on my beer. This just wasn't me. I preferred quiet places, like libraries, classrooms, and the privacy of my own room. Plus, the beer was disgusting. I'd just been staring at my new pint since that creepy guy had put something in it after I refused to suck his dick—his choice of words, not mine.
"Zach Goode is the lead singer of BlackThorne," Bex filled me in with an eye roll. "He's practically the whole reason we show up. I can just see his fingers playing across that guitar and imagine what they would do to my body."
I held up my hand. "TMI, Bex."
"And he's walking over here," Liz whispered, unnecessarily pointing him out.
I took a good, long look at Zach Goode. He swaggered more than walked over to us with his dark-wash jeans hanging low, hugging him perfectly. Tattoos peeked out of his charcoal gray T-shirt, and dog tags hung loose from his neck. He was muscular but lean. His hair was long in the front, but cut short on the sides, and looked purposely messy. His smirk was cocky and his eyes inviting.
His entire appeal from the clothes to his demeanor was contrived. Looking at my friends obsessing over him, I was pretty sure they were too far lost in a Zach Goode haze to see through the playboy attitude.
Zach walked right through a crowd of women clamoring for his attention and straight toward me. I just stared at him with furrowed brows. He smirked when he saw that he'd caught my attention. I almost looked away, but his attention only infuriated me. I tilted my chin up and held my ground. What the hell did he want?
"Hey, Zach," Macey said when he finally stopped in front of us.
He nodded in Macey's direction, then his eyes were fixed on me. Which was weird, because Macey was one of the most gorgeous girls I knew.
"What's your name, darlin'?" he asked me.
I couldn't help it. I laughed. "Darlin'? Really?"
He took a swig from his pint, unaffected by my laugh. "I still didn't get your name, babe."
"Zach, this is my friend, Cammie," Bex said. "I'm Bex, and this is Macey and Liz. Did Grant tell you that I know him?"
Zach outright ignored my friends and continued to talk to me as if there hadn't been an interruption. "So, Cammie, you don't like darlin'?"
"I might like it if you happened to be from a fifties Western movie," I said.
He cracked a smile. "Not a western, darlin'. Try Southern gentleman. Rhett Butler."
"Are you going to try to peddle Gone with the Wind to me?"
Macey bumped me. "Um…Cammie, now might be the time to not."
I ignored her. "No, really," I said, "have you ever read anything longer than an article in a Penthouse magazine?"
Macey smacked herself on the forehead and turned away.
"There are articles in Penthouse?" Zach asked.
I snorted and turned away. I had standards, and if he thought that calling me darlin' and talking about Rhett Butler would make me fall all over myself to be another one of his groupies, he was sadly mistaken. I started walking back to the bar. I needed to get rid of this drink and then get out of here. I was over this scene and wanted to get back to my life.
"Hey, where are you going?" Zach asked.
He tailed me as I walked to the bar.
I groaned. "Why are you following me?"
"Mouthy little thing, aren't you?"
"Okay," I said, stopping and turning to him. "Let's get this straight. I am not your darlin' or babe or little thing. My name is Cammie, and usually when a girl walks away from you, you should get the hint and leave her alone."
"I'm not good with hints."
Zach's smirk turned into a full-blown smile. The arrogance was still there, but what was underneath made me pause. The smile was genuine, not contrived like his smirk. I'd actually amused him, and he'd reacted in a way that showed me that not many people did. His eyes lightened, and the gold ring around his pupil was more prominent. There was an openness, a vulnerability, in his expression as he dropped some of the playboy look that I was sure he didn't actually want people to see. It kind of took my breath away.
He took the few steps to clear the distance between us, and I retreated, my back pressing into the bar. I placed my beer down and tried to avert my gaze from his face, but it was a struggle with him staring at me so intently.
"So, how about you ditch the hints and just admit that you're interested in me?" Zach asked matter-of-factly.
I opened my mouth to slap a retort back into his face, but for once in my existence, I had no idea how to respond. Most people weren't as blunt as I was, and no one came up to bat when I was on the defensive. He was using my own techniques against me, and I was finding it hard to look away from those big green eyes ringed with gold. I felt like he'd blown my carefully constructed world into tiny pieces.
"Aw, come on, princess. Word's failing you?" He dragged his hand gently down my jawline.
I brought my own up and forcefully brushed it aside. "I'm not a princess. My name is Cammie. We've covered this. Keep up."
He leaned forward, and I watched as he put his beer down to the right of my glass. His face was only inches from mine, and I could practically taste the alcohol on his breath. I should have been disgusted, but it kind of smelled good on him.
I had no idea who the person was thinking these traitorous thoughts. I was not attracted to someone like Zach Goode.
"All right, Cammie it is." He drawled my name across his tongue, like he was experimenting with the taste of it.
"Are you always this forward with someone you just met?"
"Only women."
"How flattering," I muttered sarcastically.
"Isn't it? I could have picked any girl in the room, but I'm here talking to you."
Zach had said that as if I was supposed to appreciate the fact that he had just openly admitted to being willing to sleep with any of these other girls, but lucky me, I was the winner for the night.
Um…no thank you.
"Wow. I get the princess reference now. I feel like a Disney princess who Gaston chose instead of whoring himself out to the rest of the town," I said, crossing my arms.
There was that goddamn smile again. He needed to cut that out.
"Belle wasn't a princess," Zach corrected me.
"Another thing we have in common."
"I'm going to kiss you now."
His hands tangled loosely in my blonde hair before I could even get a response out.
His lips were soft and tender, but they had a certain authority to them that I had never experienced. It was like being led through a waltz. We were both dancing, but he had absolute control of the situation. I found myself wanting to kiss him back.
No, I am kissing him back.
And just as I felt my entire body practically quiver with desire, he slowly released me, his lips lingering oh-so invitingly in front of me.
As soon as I opened my dark blue eyes again, my body straightened, and I snapped out of my trance. Oh, he's good. He's really, really good. But if he was going to be total douche bag and then think he could kiss his way out of anything, he had another thing coming.
"So, are we getting out of here then?" Zach asked.
"Yeah," I said, plastering on a fake smile. I reached for the drinks on the bar and handed him my drink—the same one that had been spiked. "Finish our drinks, and then we'll head out?" I even giggled for added effect.
I raised the bottle in my hand to cheers, and then I watched as he chugged his drink.
{Zach}
When I woke up, my head felt like it had been split open. What the fuck had I drunk last night? I couldn't even remember, and I always did. I might not have a knack for names or faces, but alcohol and I were old friends. I must have gone way over my personal limit.
Then, something came back to me—a flash of blonde hair…a pair of dark blue eyes…a giggle.
I reached over to check out who was in bed next to me. I didn't think I'd taken someone home, but if all I could remember when waking up was a chick, it was a pretty safe bet that she was in my bed.
The girl rolled over and smiled at me, and I had absolutely no recollection of who she was.
Brown hair, brown eyes. No, this couldn't be the same person. Then, who is the girl from last night? I'd kissed her. I'd tasted her. She'd been mine for the taking. And if I remembered her so vividly, then why the hell hadn't I brought her home with me last night?
I swung my legs over the bed and stood. I was going to find out.
"Hey, where are you going?" the chick asked. "Aren't you interested in round three?"
Round three? Shit, had we done it twice?
"Not interested. Find your own way out," I said, throwing on a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt.
"Zach! We had such a great time last night."
"I don't even remember it." My dog tags swung around my neck as I surged out of my room.
I probably shouldn't have left a crazy bitch unattended in my bedroom, but I didn't have anything of value in there.
I barreled down the stairs and banged on Grant's door until he answered. Sweat pooled on his brow. He must've already started his morning workout.
"What's up, bro?"
"What the fuck happened last night?"
Grant scratched his head and looked at me like I was out of my mind. "We played a show at the League. What do you mean, what happened?"
"I know that, dipshit. I remember the show, but everything else is fuzzy. I have some chick in my bed, but all I remember is another girl."
"Whoa! Is my main man pining over a girl?"
"I don't even know who the girl is, Grant. You can't pine after someone you don't know. I just want to know what the hell happened. I remember one blonde chick, but I have another dumb brunette in my bed."
Grant laughed in my face. "Blonde chick, huh? That's real specific."
"Fuck you, man. I'm going to see if Jonas or Aaron will be more helpful than your ass."
I slammed my palm down on the door frame, then turned and walked toward the front door just as the chick from upstairs stopped on the landing.
"Why aren't you out of my house yet?" I demanded.
The girl glared at me. "Aren't you at least going to give me a ride back to campus?"
"Fucking walk home for all I care."
"You know, I didn't believe my friend when she said you treated girls like dirt after sleeping with them, but damn, she was right."
I shrugged, and she started to walk out.
Then I had an idea. "Hey!"
"Yeah?" She turned and batted her eyelashes at me.
Even after I had just been a total dick to her, she was still interested. Why would I act any other way?
"Do you remember me talking to a blonde chick last night?"
"Oh my fucking God, Zach," she cried, throwing her hands in the air. "You are at an all-time low. If you weren't amazing in bed—"
"Yeah, but I am. So, do you remember?"
"There were a ton of blonde girls at the bar last night, and even if I cared to remember, I don't." She started typing on her phone as she stormed away.
Useless.
"Bro, you're acting crazy," Grant said. He was standing in the living room with his arms crossed over his bare chest.
"I don't remember anything but this girl."
Grant looked at me like he thought I was losing it, but he filled me in nonetheless. "We walked offstage and drank some beers. You started making out with these two chicks, but I interrupted. I spiked some girl's drink, and you were going to find out if she had a boyfriend. Since you're a fucking piece of shit, you decided to snag her from me after I'd done all the dirty work. But don't worry, bro. I found another chick who wanted me last night."
I didn't care about Grant's conquest. I just wanted to know about the girl. "So, what happened with the blonde chick?"
"I think she bailed with her friends, and then you left with that other chick."
It hit me like a two-by-four to the chest—blonde, dark blue eyes, mouthy spitfire. Cammie—that was her name. She'd been playing hard to get. I'd known off the bat that she hadn't taken a sip of Grant's drink. And she had been fucking hot under that prim-and-proper attitude. Then, after I'd kissed her, she must have given me the drink Grant had dosed.
What the fuck?
"Do you remember now?"
"Yeah." I felt like an idiot, and it was an emotion I wasn't used to. No way was I going to let Grant know that chick had gotten the better of me. I'd never hear the end of it.
"Maybe try a new kind of weed or lay off the heavy liquor. You're freaking me out." Grant started walking back to his room, probably to do another hundred pushups or something.
I couldn't get Cammie out of my mind. Why had she given me that beer? What kind of girl would go to such extremes to get rid of me? I wanted to find out.
"Hey, Grant. That girl you dosed—you said you knew her friend, right?"
"Her roommate, Bex," Grant offered. "Yeah, I know her. Why?"
"You got her number?"
Grant shrugged. "Yeah."
"I need it."
"You want to bang her? Because I'm already moving in on that," Grant told me.
"Keep her. I want the roommate."
Some Zammie for you all, as promised (:
Let me know what you think! The story will pick up here shortly, but for now, just enjoy Cammie's smartass and Zach's inability to shake her lol.