Everything You Want

“Norman,” I purred, slinking up to him and standing between his legs. “Are you enjoying yourself this evening?”

A small smile fell on his lips as he sat back against the bar. “I am now.”

I smirked, leaning close to his ear and whispered, “If you want any hope of her leaving you alone, you’re going to have to be a little more convincing.”

I pulled away, and draped an arm around his broad shoulders. There was confusion, shock, and at least five other emotions written all over her face but I knew Sean, Cleo, and I were the only people here who’d be able to recognize them. One of his large hands tentatively wrapped around my hip, and he turned to the other girl with his ever charming camera smile.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t introduce you two. Clarisse, this is McKenziKamden- she’s a model, predominantly in Europe, but Victoria’s Secret is trying to talk her into being their poster girl for a while.”
There you go, Norman. That’s better.

Clarisse sneered down at me in disgust, and I gave her my best superior smile I could muster. It was something most models mastered early on in their career on account of how cutthroat the modeling business is.

“Hi, Claire, it’s a pleasure to meet you,” I said sweetly, but not without the proper amount of sarcasm, offering my hand to her. After a moments hesitation, she gripped it in her own thin, icy hand.

“It’s Clarisse” she hissed. “And where’d you get that dress? The thrift shop?”

“No, actually. I got it in Milan. I bet yours was really nice before you mutilated it like an attention-seeking toddler, though,” I retorted, tilting my head a little higher as I stared down a seething Clarisse.

“I bet the hobo in Milan you got yours from looked better in it than you did,” she growled, and I shrugged indifferently.

“Maybe,” I replied, and she continued to stare in anger. After a few moments I let out a cocky laugh.

“What’s the matter, Crissy? See something you like?” I asked, and let my eyes slip from hers to Norman with a devils smirk. “ My… boyfriend , perhaps?”

The word ‘boyfriend’ tasted like poison in my mouth, but I forced another smile.

“Your boyfriend was all alone, so I decided to give him some company,” sneered Clarissa with a smug look. “I… kept him company, while you basically fucked every guy on the dancefloor.”

I couldn’t hold back the bitter laugh that escaped my lips, and I turned fully to Norman. I grabbed his jaw in one hand, catching him entirely off guard, and stared deep into his calm blue eyes.

“He knows I’d never let another man so much as think he could touch me the way he does,” I said to her, and looked back at poor Norman with a grin. “Isn’t that right, baby?”

I was laying it on thick for this bitch.

Norman laughed to himself, shaking his head slightly before looking back at us. “I do, sweetheart. Now, if you don’t mind, Clarisse…”

He trailed off, but nodded towards the dance floor. She stared at him in utter shock for a moment, and I waved her off.

“Bye-bye, Rissa, it was fun! Try not to contract another STD tonight,” I said, and Norman let his head fall to my shoulder to hide his laugh. With a shriek, reminding me yet again her name was Clarisse, she stomped off to the dance floor without another look at us.

“You’re relentless,” Norman said, and it was then I realized his hand was still on my hip. I tore myself from his body, and moved to lean against the bar beside him.

“Vodka on the rocks, please,” I asked the bartender sweetly, and he nodded in affirmation.

“Coming right up, miss,” he said, and I turned back to Norman.

“You’re complaining…? I can still go get her for you,” I offered bitterly, my eyes narrowing slightly. He held his hands up in surrender, and a shot glass was placed in front of me. “That’s what I thought, Reedus.”

“Yep, I owe you,” he said, and snatched the small glass before I could. He knocked it back, and downed the clear liquid. I stared at him in complete shock, and he gave me a stern look. “You’ve already had too much to drink, McKenzi.”

“I’m fucking buzzed, that’s all,” I growled, and the bartender sat another glass in front of me. I threw the liquid down my throat before Norman could protest, and slammed it down defiantly beside his glass.

“Fine,” he sighed, looking away.

I knew Norman was right, and had circumstances been different- less tense, maybe later in the week- I probably would have let him have the shot without snapping at him. I was buzzed, and I was three shots away from being a goner. But I liked the courage the alcohol was giving me, and I liked that I was able to be bitchy towards Norman.

Again, I knew I shouldn’t. I knew that with every fiber of my sober being, but I wanted no part of that tonight. I wanted Norman to know he had hurt me, albeit ten years ago, but it had still hurt. Thinking back, I had really handled it the wrong way. At the time, I thought I was doing what was best for Norman and I both- putting so much distance between us, that it would be impossible to work things out. I locked myself into a life in London immediately, and threw everyone in New York out of my life for the longest time.

I had no one but myself to blame for the fact that I was still hurting over a break up that long ago. In my intoxicated state, I justified that as the reason for my next action.

“You gonna ask me to dance, or what?” I mumbled slightly, staring into the bottom of my shot glass.

“What?” asked Norman, leaning closer to hear me better. I bit my lip and repeated myself for him. When he didn’t respond immediately, I slightly frowned up at him.

“You’re drunk, McKenzi,” he finally said, a smidge of sadness in his voice. “If you were sober, you wouldn’t even be standing here right now.”

I scowled over at the dark haired man beside me, and pushed myself off the bar in anger. Bad fucking idea. The room spun on it’s hinges, and I grabbed onto anything to steady myself. Turns out, that was Normans arm.

When my gaze finally focused on him and the room stopped spinning, I crossed my arms over my chest and glared at him.

“So, what? I’ve been drinking, what’s that have to do with anything?”

“You’d be pissed in the morning if I agreed.”

I gave an overly dramatic roll of my eyes, and I shook my head. “So we broke up, that doesn’t mean we can’t dance to one fucking song together, Norman.”

The pain that flashed across his handsome features when I all but spat the phrase ‘we broke up’ almost made me regret the venom behind my words. Almost.

“That’s not what I’m saying,” he argued gently, and my eyes narrowed at him.

“So you don’t want to dance with me?”

“That’s still not what I’m saying, McKenzi, you’re completely missing the point.” Norman sounded exasperated, and even looked it a little bit.

“I’m pretty sure that is what you’re saying, Norman, but you’re just too much of a fucking gentleman, so you’re alluding to it.” I was beginning to get aggravated, but I had always been stubborn. “Am I just not pretty enough or something? It’s one dance, Norman. I think we can both handle that.”

His eyes had widened a little, but I could see his resolve beginning to weaken so I pressed on. “It’s not like I’m asking you to be my best friend, or to pretend nothing is wrong. I don’t see what the problem is.”

“You’re more than pretty enough,” he sighed in defeat. “I just think it’s a bad idea.”

I grit my teeth, and glared at him. “Fine.”

With that, I disappeared back into the dance floor. I was going to find the sleeziest man in the whole building, and dance like a dirty, dirty slut. I wanted to ignore the fact that Norman could still hurt my feelings over something so petty. I wanted to forget the way his hand had felt on my hip earlier and the way he had looked at me when I first walked up to him in this dress.

That’s why I didn’t shove away the man smelling so strongly of alcohol, even when he pushed his hands down my body in a way that made me feel sick. That’s why I didn’t push him away when he gripped my sides so tightly I was almost certain I’d have tiny purple bruises in the morning.

.

“God damnit, McKenzi,” Norman growled low in my ear when he ripped me from the other man’s grasp as the song ended. He was too drunk to protest, and stumbled away to find another girl.

“What are you doing, Reedus,” I whined, feebly trying to shove him away as the opening beats of ‘Replay’ by Zendaya began to fill the room. I moaned softly, this was one of my favorite songs but my head was beginning to hurt. Norman chuckled softly, and pulled me against his body. The sensation both made my nerves explode in ecstasy, but synonymously made me want to scream and cry.

“I’m dancing with you, like you asked,” he explained, lips pressed against my ear so he didn’t have to shout and hands firm on my hips. Not hard and demanding like the other guy, but in a protective manner. I knew that was the only reason his ass was even on the dance floor, but in that moment I didn’t care.

Don’t stop, don’t move. Just keep it there, right there. Keep it right there, keep it right there.
I lay my head back against Normans chest, and my eyes fell shut.

Put you on repeat, play you everywhere I go- everywhere I go.
I tilted my head into his body, and slipped my arm around his neck.

Wanna put this song on replay, I can listen to it all day. I can listen to you all day, hear you all day.
His medium length dark hair stuck up between the fingers of my left hand, and my right grippedhis own over my hip.

We can start all over again, yeah. Wanna put this song on replay.
His fingers laced with mine, and his arms slid around my body- pulling me into his chest. I could feel the cool buttons of his shirt against my open back. His heart beat strong against my shoulder, and every breath he took exhaled in a waterfall down my neck and shoulder.

My eyes were closed, and Norman and I swayed slightly with the music. The moment I had felt his hands on me, I melted entirely. We weren’t even really dancing, just wrapped up in each other. I pushed away all the negative emotions for him I had held onto for so long, and let myself get lost in the song and his touch. I could faintly feel his lips against the side of my temple, or maybe that was just his soft breathing. I wasn’t sure, and I wasn’t about to open my eyes to find out.

Feel it all, feel it all crashing down. I’m so lost, I’m so lost in your sound.
I knew without a shadow of a doubt that Norman had been right- I was going to be pissed in the morning. Not at him, but at myself.

One song, three minutes and thirty seconds, had exposed me completely to him. I had pushed him so far from me because anything less than an ocean between us would have seen me pulled back into his whirlwind life. It was happening, now. I didn’t wantto constantly be the loner, but I wasn’t a girl who just slept around. I dated around, but no one ever stuck. Not like Norman had. When I was with him, I had seen forever in his eyes.

But he had still left, and I ran as far as I could go.

And here I was, on some club dance floor in Manhattan, with his arms around me again. There was no going back to being angry with Norman without him seeing right through me.

The song ended and my eyes fluttered open- immediately met by his now dark blue eyes. I parted my lips to say something, anything, but no words came out. I couldn’t read his expression- I wasn’t sure if that was because of the alcohol, or if he was just that masked from me right now. Maybe it was both. Before I could move or say anything, Norman unwound himself from my body.

“You got your song,” was all he said, before being disappearing in to the crowd.

I stood there for a moment in shock at what had just happened, but I couldn’t dwell on it for long. Cleo pulled me out to dance with her, probably because Sean had seen the guy I was dancing with before Norman interjected and was calling an intervention.

I made too many trips to the bar after the dance with Norman.