Zayn
The doorbell rang, and Zayn took a deep breath before answering it. He couldn't believe he felt this nervous. He'd taken a shower and styled his white-blonde hair into its usual messy fashion. Initially, he'd dressed in jeans and a button-down shirt, before reconsidering and exchanging the shirt for a black quarter-zip pullover. A bottle of cologne that he hadn't used in ages had been hiding in the back of the medicine cabinet, so he'd slapped some of that on, as well. It had been so long since he'd actually tried to impress a woman that he'd almost forgotten how to go about it.
Zayn opened the door, and was literally shocked speechless. The woman standing in front of him was tiny, almost a foot shy of his six-foot-two frame. She wore a red sweatshirt, with the hood up against the drizzle, and black ripped jeans that hugged thin legs tucked into heavy black boots. She had a gold ring in her eyebrow, as well as in one nostril of her delicately upturned nose, and wide blue eyes that managed to look both childlike and wary at the same time. They were heavily lined in black, and framed by long, dark lashes which only served to accentuate their brilliance.
Mia looked like a punk rock elf, and although she was not at all like he had imagined, Zayn was immediately captivated.
When he just stood there, gawking like a fool, she raised the pierced eyebrow. "Zayn?"
"Oh! Sorry!" Zayn stepped back to allow her entrance. "Come on in."
"Thanks." Mia stepped inside, wiping her boots on the mat in the entryway. "My feet are wet. Want me to take my boots off?"
"Up to you," Zayn said, as he closed the door against the dampness of the day. "However you're more comfortable."
Mia gave the boots an extra swipe but left them on. Looking around, she said, "Your house is beautiful."
"Thanks. It's just a rental for now, but if things go well, I might buy it eventually."
"Oh!" Mia's eyes lit up as she noticed the baby grand piano that dominated the living room. "Is that yours?"
"Came with the house. It belongs to a music producer who's out of the country for the next six months. Can I get you anything?" Zayn asked as he ushered her into the next room, where a fire crackled in the fireplace.
"No, thanks." Mia pulled the sodden sweatshirt over her head, revealing purple-streaked dark hair cut short except for long bangs that fell over one eye. A sleeveless t-shirt revealed an arm covered in tattoos from wrist to shoulder in an intricate, brightly colored sleeve. Zayn fought the urge to reach out and trace the beautiful artwork with his fingertips. For her part, Mia seemed completely oblivious to his beguilement.
"May I?" Mia asked, pulling out the piano bench.
"Please." Zayn leaned a hip against the instrument, eager to hear her play.
"It's been a while, so don't laugh." Mia's fingers were tentative on the keys at first - running scales, but occasionally missing a note here and there. Once she was warmed up, she broke into a classical piece that Zayn didn't recognize, but found hauntingly somber. He could tell that she lost herself in the music as she played, the same way he did when he sang. When she finished, Zayn broke the fresh silence. "You're really good. Why aren't you a professional musician?"
Mia looked down at her hands as if they held the answer to his question. "Stage fright. Ever since I was a child, I was terrified of performing in front of others. I loved the music, but recitals were torture."
"Really?" Zayn found this unfathomable. He lived for the adulation of others. If you couldn't showcase your skills, then what was the point? You were just another nobody singing in the shower for your own entertainment.
For the first time since she'd arrived, Mia looked him directly in the eyes. "That's probably difficult for you to understand."
"Sort of. I mean, you obviously have talent. And you're incredibly attractive." A blush rose in her cheeks, and heat rushed to Zayn's groin. Why did he find her so damn irresistible? The anticipation of this meeting had been building over the course of their conversations for days, but he'd never imagined that the reality would be even better than his fantasies. "What reason do you have to be shy?"
Mia's gaze fell to the keys again, her fingers softly picking out random notes as she spoke. Those fingers were long and slim, the dark polish of her manicure chipping off in spots. "My mother put a lot of pressure on me to be perfect. Because of that, I was always worried about making a mistake." Mia blushed deeper, peering up at Zayn through lowered eyelashes, and he suddenly had the urge to find the beastly maternal figure that could criticize this perfect creature and give her a piece of his mind. "Anyway, enough about me. What's this new song that you've been working on?"
"Oh! Wait here." Zayn hurried downstairs to grab his beat-up acoustic. "I'm not very good," he warned, as he took a seat on the sectional couch that ran perpendicular to the piano, balancing the guitar on his knee. "So bear with me." He awkwardly plucked out the tune that had been rattling around his head for the past few weeks. After a few times through, Mia was able to play along on the piano.
"Is that how you hear it?"
"You captured the melody, but maybe a little more upbeat?"
Mia complied, increasing the tempo and adding in a quick key change at the end that made Zayn's heart race with excitement. He abandoned the guitar and sat next to her on the piano bench as she ran through the progression again, both of them building on the foundation until it actually started to sound like a legitimate song. Zayn didn't have any lyrics yet, so he hummed the melody once again, and Mia played the chords to harmonize with him. It sounded so amazing that when she reached the end, Zayn was literally trembling with adrenaline.
"That sounds good, right? It's not just me?"
"No, it's definitely good. It's got a good hook, but it's also…"
"Sexy," Zayn supplied.
"Yeah," Mia agreed with a grin. "Sexy."
High on the thrill of collaboration, and bewitched by this person who had come so wonderfully and unexpectedly into his life, Zayn leaned forward to kiss her - only to be crushed when she leaned away.
"Zayn, I don't think that's a good idea."
Even the way she said his name turned him on. "Why? You don't find me attractive?"
Mia's only response to that was a dismissive chuckle. "We're working together at the RFA."
"Okay, then - you're fired." It was a joke, but Zayn wondered…if he really had to choose between kissing her and holding the fundraisers again? Making more music together? Employing her as his PR person?
Talk about your impossible dilemmas.
Mia laughed. "And then there's Julie to consider."
"Julie?" Zayn frowned. "Julie who?"
"Um, Julie, Jonathan's assistant? You know, the woman who's madly in love with you?"
"Oh my god." Zayn laughed. "No, she's not!"
"Yes, she most definitely is."
"Why would you even say that?"
"Oh, I don't know. Maybe it's because she has your photo as her profile picture. Or that she keeps warning me to stay away from you. Or the millions of other clues she's dropped in the short time that I've known her."
"I think you're misreading the situation. She's a fan of my music, and a friend. She's just being supportive."
"Mmm." Mia gave him a pitying look, and Zayn bristled. He had known Julie a lot longer than Mia. He would know if she had a crush on him. Wouldn't he? "Anyway," Mia continued, "I'm just saying, if you and I got involved, it would be complicated."
Zayn's considerable ego was wounded. He'd just met this woman, but he already knew he would endure whatever complications were necessary to have her in his life. However, she obviously didn't feel the same. Women were always telling him how handsome he was and throwing themselves at him. But when he finally found someone that he desired, she wanted nothing to do with him.
It wasn't fair.
As if reading his mind - or perhaps just his body language - Mia gave him a gentle nudge with her shoulder. "Don't pout. Why don't you give me a tour of the rest of the house?"
"Fine." Zayn's funk swiftly faded as he took Mia downstairs to show off the fully equipped gym/ practice studio and enormous master suite with king-sized bed, including an attached bathroom with a luxurious jetted tub and walk-in shower. There were two additional guest rooms on the bottom level, but they were filled with boxes Zayn had yet to unpack, so he skipped showing her those. The house was built into the side of a hill so although the front entry was at ground level, you could also walk out the lower level into the back yard. There was a beautiful wood deck with a grill and a hot tub, which Zayn hadn't gotten around to using yet. He couldn't help but imagine christening the jacuzzi with Mia, her tight little body clad in that bikini that Seven had mentioned.
Or nothing at all.
They stepped out onto the deck, and Zayn immediately pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket. He never smoked in the house, but he was really craving one now. As he put it to his lips and lit it, Mia gave him a disapproving look.
"I can't believe you smoke."
"I know, it's bad for my career."
"It's bad for you."
Zayn smiled at her through a plume of smoke. "Are you worried about me?"
Mia frowned, deliberately waving away the smoke before walking to the edge of the deck. Zayn watched as she leaned on the railing, backlit by the dim glow of the setting sun through the clouds. Even her silhouette was sexy - pixie perfect with a tiny waist and luscious, heart-shaped ass. She crossed her bare arms and gripped her elbows, bracing against the cooling dusk air. Zayn took one last deep drag before stubbing the cigarette out in the ashtray and approaching Mia from behind, gently running his palms up and down the cool skin of her upper arms to warm her up. Mia tensed for a moment, but then suddenly relaxed, leaning back into his chest as his arms went around her.
Zayn felt hopeful for a moment, as they watched the sunset together, that perhaps he still had a chance to change her mind. They stood silently, Mia's body relaxed in his embrace, as the sun sank below the horizon for good. It was an incredibly peaceful interlude, which was ruined when Mia abruptly wriggled out of his embrace and wrinkled her pert little nose in his direction. "You stink like smoke."
So much for winning her over.
Accepting defeat, Zayn escorted Mia back into the warmth of the house. He hadn't lived there long, but to him, the dwelling represented the culmination of years spent living in tiny apartments with an absurd number of roommates, just to be able to afford the rent. He was proud to showcase the space for Mia - even if it didn't belong to him.
Not yet, anyway.
"It really is a beautiful house," Mia said as they returned upstairs. "And it's perfect for you."
You're perfect for me, Zayn thought. Yes, they'd known each other for less than a week. Yes, he'd just seen Mia in person for the first time today.
And yes, he was 100%, head-over-heels smitten.
Zayn knew other people would say that he was crazy; that there was no such thing as love at first sight. But he was an artist who had survived over the years by trusting his instincts. He didn't know much, but he knew what he felt. And the only part that really scared him was the possibility that Mia might not feel the same.
"So, have you changed your mind about me now that you've gotten a preview of the pop star lifestyle? This could all be yours!" Zayn teased, throwing his arms wide, and Mia burst out laughing. It was then that he saw for the first time the silver bar piercing her tongue, and Zayn repressed yet another surge of lust for this woman. What would it feel like to have that bar in his mouth? To tug on it with his teeth? Or even better, if her lovely mouth and sultry lips were wrapped around his…
He had to stop. This was torture.
"I should get going," Mia said.
"Stay for dinner. We can order in."
"I'm not sure how late the buses run."
"I'll drive you home. Please?" Zayn felt pathetic for begging, but he would have given just about anything to keep her there with him just a little longer.
Mia relented, and they decided on Chinese takeout. For the first time since he'd moved in, Zayn set out dishes and cutlery on the dining room table. When the food arrived, Mia fetched beers from the refrigerator, while Zayn opened the containers. He was surprised to discover how harmonious it felt, like they had been doing this domestic dance for years.
Over dinner, they somehow got onto the topic of their families.
"So, do you have siblings?" Mia asked, using chopsticks to pop a bite of Szechuan chicken into her mouth.
"Yes, one brother. You?"
Mia shook her head. "My mom never wanted kids. I was an accident, and not a happy one. She made sure it never happened again."
"I can't imagine anyone being disappointed by you," Zayn replied honestly, and Mia's cheeks once again grew pink. He found it adorable how easy it was to make her blush.
"Are you and your brother close?" Mia asked, quickly changing the subject.
"We were, when I was younger. My brother is ten years older than I am, so he was very protective of me when I was little. My parents are both professional people, very educated. When it first became clear that I was more artistic than academic, my brother shielded me from my parents' disapproval. But once he realized it wasn't just a fad, or a hobby, but that I really wanted to make a career as a performer, he turned against me, too."
"By then, Ben was in law school, following in our parents' footsteps. He told me once that I'm an 'irresponsible and selfish' person for pursuing my dreams." Zayn took a bite of broccoli, but found it hard to swallow around the bitter lump in his throat. "I left home when I was a teenager. I haven't spoken to any of them in a long time."
"I'm sorry," Mia said, quietly. "I know life can be tough without the support of your family."
Zayn shrugged. "I've gotten used to being on my own. How about your dad? You haven't mentioned him."
Mia hesitated, pushing the fried rice around on her plate. Finally, she said, "My dad passed away when I was in high school."
"That must have been really hard."
Mia nodded. "My mom remarried shortly after, and I wasn't welcome in her new family. So I've been on my own for a while, too." She gave him a sad smile. "Just two lonely orphans, huh?"
"I guess so. But now we've found each other. To new friends." Zayn held up his beer bottle, and Mia raised hers as well.
"To new friends," she echoed.
After dinner, they cleaned up the dishes and put the leftovers away, and Zayn finally ran out of reasons to hold her hostage. They went to the garage so he could take her home, and as Zayn hit the button to raise the overhead door, Mia spotted the Ducati parked in the corner behind his old Jeep.
"Oh!" she exclaimed, eyes wide. "Is that yours?"
"Yep."
"Can we take that instead?"
"I don't know." Zayn eyed her still-damp sweatshirt, skeptically. "It's cold riding at night."
"It's not that far. Please, please, please?" Mia looked at him with pleading eyes, and he was powerless to resist.
Zayn sighed. "Hang on."
He went back into the house and grabbed his leather jacket and gloves, as well as a fleece zip-up for her. Zayn returned to the garage and held the fleece open while Mia stuck her arms through the holes, then he zipped it to her chin. He stepped back and laughed. Her arms were lost in the sleeves and the elastic hem came down to her knees. Zayn rolled up the sleeves until her hands peeked out the bottom. She was both adorably childlike and impossibly sexy wearing his clothes. He wanted to wrap his arms around her and never let go.
Instead, he found the spare helmet and placed it carefully on her head. It was also way too big, but he buckled the chin strap as tightly as he could and hoped it would stay on her head in case of an emergency. Not that he planned on taking any chances with her safety. Their eyes met and held through the visor as he fiddled with the strap, and Zayn froze as his fingers brushed the soft skin of her cheek. He wanted to kiss her so badly that he ached, but his ego couldn't withstand another rejection this soon after the first. Finally, Mia dropped her gaze and Zayn stepped back, clearing his throat.
"Okay, all set."
He put on his own jacket and helmet, and threw his leg over the bike. Zayn started it up and revved the motor once or twice, letting it warm up. Finally, he raised the kickstand and said over the noise of the engine, "Hop on."
Eagerly, Mia climbed on and put her feet on the pegs. "Hold on tight," Zayn instructed, and she obediently wrapped her arms around his waist, her front pressed tightly to his back. Her clasped hands sat just above his lap, and Zayn took a deep breath in before letting it out slowly. He chastised himself for acting like a horny teenager, but he couldn't control his body's response to her proximity. It was something primal, and overwhelming. One more calming breath, then he put the bike in gear and they rolled out of the garage and down the driveway.
The trip down the hill was disappointingly short. It wasn't as cold as Zayn had feared, and the fresh night air, the rumble of the engine between his legs, and the cute girl with her arms wrapped around his torso was an exhilarating combination. From the time that Mia had appeared on his doorstep earlier that day, Zayn had been flying on a natural high. He felt lighter than he had in years, and it wasn't just because he was frequently lonely, although he was sure that was part of it. He spent time with people every day, including attractive women, and none of them made him feel like this. Like any addict, he didn't want the rush to end.
Way too soon, they pulled to the curb across the street from her apartment building. Zayn killed the engine, planting his feet on the ground as Mia swung her leg over the seat. "I'll walk you to the door," he offered, but she shook her head.
"I'm fine."
Zayn wondered if she was worried that he would pressure her to go upstairs; decided not to push the issue. "I'll wait here until you get inside, then."
"Such a gentleman." Mia smiled as she pulled off the helmet and handed it to him. "Do you need your fleece back?"
"You can give it to me next time I see you." Any excuse to ensure a repeat visit.
"Thanks for having me over. And for dinner."
"Anytime. Seriously. Come over again tomorrow, if you want. We can work on our song." Zayn frowned. "And we never even talked about the PR job."
"Ah. I thought maybe you made it up to lure me into visiting," Mia teased.
"No. It's just that I get very distracted around you." Zayn stared into her blue eyes, and although color rose to her cheeks, this time Mia didn't look away. Finally, she leaned close and her scent surrounded him - patchouli and vanilla. Intoxicating, like everything else about her. They were close to the same height when Zayn was astride the bike, and Mia pressed her lips to his cheek, lingering briefly before pulling away.
"Good night, Zayn."
"Good night, Mia."
Zayn watched as she crossed the street and opened the front door of the building. She gave him a brief wave before disappearing inside. After another minute, Zayn started the bike and turned toward home.