Lingus by Mariana Zapata
I took the eight shortest steps ever walked in existence and yes, I included baby steps, to stand in front of the forty-something man who was looking at me with big brown eyes. "Hi."
Like an idiot, I just shoved the DVD case in his direction, whispering a squeak of a "Hi" in response.
"What's your name, sweetheart?" he asked in a voice that was slightly higher than what I remembered in each of his videos.
"Katherine with a K," I said with my best Stuart Little impersonation. I wanted to kick my own ass for being such a puss.
Andrew Wood signed my DVD, handing it back to me with a big smile before there was another fan pushing me over to get her own signature. Scurrying over to where Nicole and Zoey stood, while Zoey beamed at me in excitement, seemed surreal. I'd been thinking about getting his autograph for so long, and now it was over and I'd frozen up.
"Let me see," Zoey hummed in excitement, reaching for the case in my hand.
"To Beautiful Katherine," Nicole read out loud slowly before snapping her line of sight back over to the table and observing it for a moment. "You should have given him your card too, Kat. We both could have been getting lucky tonight."
Zoey let out what sounded like a squeak. "You're going to try to have sex with Calum tonight?"
"Not tonight. I'm going to see Jason, Jesus Christ. What do you think I am? Easy?" Nikki asked, like we were stupid.
I gave her a smug little smile as I nodded. "Well, yeah."
Chapter 9
I felt like I was on cloud nine as we continued walking through the convention hall with my DVD in my purse. Beautiful Katherine, kept going through my head like the best broken record ever. Beautiful Katherine. Beautiful Katherine. A girl could get used to that. We stayed by the booth a few minutes after I got his signature, looking at what things the other people in line got signed. From what we saw, I was the only one who got anything besides just a name written out. My self-esteem went up about a hundred million points, if not more.
Growing up, I was really insecure with myself, just like most other kids. Thanks to my dad, I was a tomboy with a really bad haircut for the majority of my childhood and teens. We didn't have a ton of money when I was younger, especially after my mom died. Dad and mom were only children too, so I didn't really have too many female influences in my life outside of teachers; with that being the case, he took it upon himself to cut my hair for me every few months. Let me tell you one thing— there is a reason why stylists go to cosmetology school. Even back then, I knew my uneven bangs were horrific and my "layers" looked like a blind man on opium had gotten ahold of them, but I never complained once. I knew my dad tried his best with me. If the disaster that was my thick, uneven, brown hair wasn't bad enough, I inherited my mom's worst genes: gaps between my two front teeth and weight problems until I hit puberty. I'd always been kind of awkward and clumsy, but fortunately, those were the only two traits I either didn't grow out of or wasn't able to control courtesy of a good hairstylist and braces.
I grew out of my ugly duckling stage right around the end of high school, thank God. Dad called me a late bloomer, I called it one of God's jokes.
"Calum wants to meet up with me before we leave," Nicole said, while she typed away on her phone.
Zoey started grumbling, "I'm tired of walking around in these shoes, Nik."
"No one told you to wear them," she replied, pointing at the 4-inch rhinestone, red platforms Zoey was teetering on. Her shoes probably weighed half as much as she did.
"You know it's part of my job," Zoey mumbled, as she squeezed through a small group of people walking in the opposite direction. A couple of men turned around to look at her curiously, probably recognizing her short mess of inky hair.
"To look like a stripper?" I teased her.
She just scowled at me in return. "You're buying me a steak when we're done then, Nikki."
"Deal."
The three of us weaved our way through the people. Nicole led the way since she was the one on a mission and we were her meager minions. It seemed crazy to me just how many people there were at the convention center; there was so much diversity it was overwhelming. I passed by a couple dressed in clothing I'd seen at a Renaissance festival, which Zoey explained that they were the owners of some sort of business. A man wearing only short pleather shorts and a ball gag in his mouth walked by me, as he trailed behind a pretty blonde in a pleather strapless dress. I was more into the people watching than looking at what was in each booth, until I saw it.
I think my mouth fell open, and I stopped so abruptly that Zoey ran into me.
"Oh Mylanta," she gasped, staring at the same thing I was.
The booth specialized in blow up dolls. Life-sized male blow up dolls. I didn't think that they even existed.
"We have to get one for Josh," I said to Zoey, scanning the different dolls tacked to the curtains that separated each booth. She nodded at me in response as she took a step closer to the booth.
I turned to look for Nikki only to see that she was already making her way down the row, completely oblivious to having left us. I stepped toward Zoey to check out the different dolls available. There was a policeman, an American Indian chief, a sailor, a cowboy, a construction worker, and a biker. All men. Josh's birthday was coming up next weekend, and neither one of us had bought the picky bitch anything yet. This was perfect.
"Which one should we get him?" she asked me at the same time our eyes landed on the same blowup doll.
"That one," I said, pointing at the policeman. Josh had always said the police officer was his favorite member of the group. As long as I could remember, he'd always had a thing for men in uniform. There was even a time when he'd sped on purpose to get pulled over by a cop on a motorcycle that he said had a cute butt. I wouldn't even get started on how he jogged past the fire station on a regular basis to try and catch some poor fireman's attention. He denied those claims with a sly smile.
"Yes!" she squealed.
A guy with a long ponytail appeared in front of us with eager eyes. "Can I help you, ladies?"
"We want to buy the 5-0," I told him, pointing at the blowup doll we wanted.
He turned to look at where I was pointing and nodded. "Officer Spanksalot is one of our best sellers. Let me get him for you."
Zoey turned to look at me with an amused expression. She mouthed "Officer Spanksalot?" I smirked, but just shrugged.
The guy appeared with a big white box that had 'Spanksalot' written across the side and held it up at us. "Who's the lucky one taking him home?"
"It's for our friend," Zoey answered. "How much is it? I mean, how much is he?"
I should be glad I wasn't drinking anything when the guy gave us the total, because I would've spit it out all over myself and Zoey. Two hundred and twenty dollars? We each shelled out our debit cards and asked him to split it in half. He handed me the box in a bag, which was a lot freaking heavier than I would've expected and after a round of thanking us, we took off looking for Nicole who was just a couple booths away.
"Officer Spanksalot better have a butt-hole for Josh to wank off into for two hundred dollars," I groaned, hoisting the heavy ass bag over my shoulder.
"They should make one with a hole in his mouth too," she giggled.
I was so focused on getting to Nicole while also trying to avoid hitting anyone with the gigantic bag over my shoulder that I almost missed looking at the booth directly across from where Nikki was standing talking to Calum. A big guy pushed past me, knocking me off balance to where my body turned to face the booth surrounded by a bunch of half-naked sluts.
The sharp jaw was the first thing I recognized about the man standing in a wave of women. I managed to catch a glimpse of high cheekbones and pink, bow-shaped lips.
I felt my stomach drop to the floor, or maybe even all the way to hell.
The guy's hair color was all wrong though. It wasn't the light, reddish brown I'd seen less than an hour before, it was jet black. The eyebrow color was wrong, too. The
I felt like Moses then, because the sea of people spread apart in front of me at the same time the guy looked up, right at me. He froze.
I knew that face; maybe not the hair color or the glasses, but I knew that perfect face.
It was Tristan.
Chapter 10
It all snapped into place then.
The cap he had on, the hoodie he wore on top of that, why he constantly looked around, and the reason he kept his voice low.
Tristan didn't want anyone to recognize him. His hair color was so unique it was a dead giveaway even in a large group of people.
He was a porn star.
He was a fucking porn star.
Fuck my life.
My stomach hurt, and I couldn't pinpoint the reason why. I knew that he didn't lie to me at any point. I didn't ask and he didn't offer up any information. He was so funny and cute... I felt stupid because I'd seen the warning bells. Someone that good looking wouldn't be watching porn and roaming around this place by himself just for the hell of it.
He was making porn.
Ugh.
Tristan stared straight at me from behind the table, ignoring the swarm of women surrounding him as they yapped like chihuahuas. I swear his face even blanched a little. I'm not sure how long we stood there staring at each other in shock, but it wasn't long; it just felt like a lifetime of seconds.
One tentative hand came up and gestured for me to come over to him. The women around him finally caught onto his movements and followed the path of his eyesight to me. Me. I had fifteen women looking at me like they wanted to rip me to shreds, and I couldn’t have cared less.
My stomach hurt.
He was a porn star.
This perfect looking person who caught me pulling my underwear out of my ass, called me a gold digger, walked me to the bathroom, referred to the bat signal for assistance, ate a hot dog with me, and said he enjoyed meeting me was a freaking porn star.
Tristan motioned for me to come over again, his mouth set into a grim, hard line.
I felt a shove from behind, and turned to see it was Zoey who was looking at me with big, gray eyes. "Robby Lingus wants you to go to his booth!" She ripped the heavy bag from my hand as pushed me again, tipping her head in the direction of the booth. "Go!"
Robby fucking Lingus.
I walked slowly toward him, keeping my eyes steady on his face because he hadn't lost eye contact with me at all. A sudden urge to flee in the other direction away from him charged through my system. Run! My brain screamed at me, but my traitorous legs continued their sluggish path to Tristan.
One of his fans moved over while I approached, leaving a big poster of a black-haired Tristan visible. A topless girl stood in front of him, with big, fake E cups jutting out in the air while one his arms wrapped tightly across her chest between her breasts, and his beautiful face cheek to cheek with hers. His other hand was clutching her shoulder, seemingly to press her against him even tighter.
Under different circumstances I might have thought the picture was incredibly erotic, not to mention hot. I probably would've run home and started looking up Robby Lingus on my favorite websites, but I wasn't going to. I couldn't. I felt like shitting out my organs. I had just spent some funny and embarrassing moment with him, and I felt a little betrayed.
My mind was racing so fast, hollering at me to run, yelling at me that I had no right to feel anything about his obvious occupation. My brain told me he wasn't mine and that he hadn't expressed any real interest in me. I couldn't get upset. I had no right. But my poor heart felt otherwise. My heart felt a strange connection to his beautiful mind.
I'm so stupid.
I found myself directly in front of his table; the line of women staring at me like hyenas ready to make me their dinner. Tristan's bright jade eyes stared at me as if he was trying to convey some message to me without words.
"Hey," he said, softly, so I could barely hear him over the chatter of his fans.
"Hi," I croaked out, my throat feeling parched.
"Robby!" a sharply dressed man standing behind Tristan called out, his face looking impassive. Tristan just waved him off, not bothering to look behind.
"Kat," he said, before leaning across the table as far as possible.
I stood there, not moving an inch, looking back and forth between the poster and the real thing. I wasn't mad at him. I knew that. My feelings were just haywire because I felt dumb.
"Kat," he repeated, pleading at me with his eyes.
I took another step toward the booth, brown eyes locked on to green ones before I leaned across the table and sucked in a strangled breath. "Yes?"
His lips brushed against the shell of my ear, warm breath lingered like fog over my skin. "I'm done in ten minutes, will you wait for me?"
No.
Yes.
No.
"Yes."
The tip of his perfect nose brushed against the skin right by my ear. "Okay," he whispered, before stepping away and giving me a soft smile.
I looked at him, and then back at the poster again before turning on my heel and marching away from the table of sluts as quickly as I could. I figured I'd be able to hear when he was done, and then just walk back. All I knew was that there was no way I'd want to stand there like a moron and stare at the parade of women embarrassing themselves.
Nicole, Zoey, and the big hunk of a man I recognized as Calum were standing in the same spot they'd been in earlier. The booth closest to them had a huge assortment of different lubes. In the middle of the table was a small, eight by ten frame of Calum holding up a small blue bottle.
He was a spokesperson for DrizzLube. Go figure.
Zoey grabbed my hands, pulling me toward her with a strength I didn't know she possessed. Then again, I guess she was used to having her way with women on a regular basis. Ha. "What did he want?"
"That was Calum's friend," I tried explaining, but she gave me a confused expression. "The one I told you guys about that I met earlier?" She nodded at me in understanding. "He asked me to wait for him until he's done with his signing."
Zoey squeezed my hands between her two smaller ones as she looked deeply into my eyes. "What did you tell him?"
"Yes."
She let out a shaky breath and squeezed my hands again. "You know he's in the industry right?"
"I do now," I said, biting my lip subconsciously.
Zoey gave me a sad smile and I knew she was aware of the way I was feeling right then. It was perfectly fine for me to like watching porn, but besides Zoey, who I'd known for so long that she was Zoey Quinn to me instead of Zoey Star, I never bothered to realize that porn stars were more than just that. "You'd still be my friend even if I didn't do this," she stated, not even opening up the conversation for me to interpret her words as a question.
Zoey would be my friend regardless of what she did with her life because I liked who she was, not what she did when I wasn't with her. Unless she was a serial killer, I'd take her in any way.
"Of course I would."
She threw her arms around my neck as she pulled me to her so tight, my boobs pressed against her throat. Zoey pulled away from me, smiling. "Just remember that when you talk to him. He's a nice guy."
The severity of her words sank into my brain for me to mull over. Yes, he did porn. Yes, I liked to watch porn. Yes, he'd been with a lot of women more than likely. Yes, that idea made my stomach hurt, but it wasn't like he expressed an interest in me other than possibly friendship. Could I deny him friendship if he asked it from me? We got along so well, it was strange.
I pushed away a tiny fraction of a thought that entertained the idea of seeing what he'd learned in his profession. I was jumping ahead of myself.
Maybe he didn't even want to be friends? He might just want to ask me not to tell anyone his real name.
"Kat, where is Josh's party?" Nicole's loud voice tore me from my thoughts.
I looked over t
"I'm inviting Calum and his friend." she said to me before shaking her head. "Oh shit, Calum this is Kat, Kat this is Calum," she introduced us.
I reached out to shake the gigantic hand he held out toward me. We each said, "Nice to meet you," to the other, and then just stood there awkwardly.
Calum looked from Nicole back to me, and then again. I cleared my throat and scratched my cheek. "So, uh..."