Those nearly two weeks flew by so fast; I swore I had blinked and we were already on our way to Mexico. Our shows in Mexico City kicking off the North American leg were some of my favorites so far. The energy was so intense, the audience was so incredible and we were all in such good spirits. I was glad that none of the boys treated me or Zayn differently ever since we told them we were sort of 'together' on the low. They just carried on like normal and interacted with us like they always did, which made Zayn really happy, which in turn made me happy. In fact, Zayn seemed to be in one of the best moods I'd ever seen him in in awhile.
After Mexico we headed to Florida and had a few days off in Miami. Well, not entirely off. We were working on shooting a music video for "Best Song Ever" in between hanging out on a really huge, amazing yacht.
"Let's go! Get on!" I shouted at Zayn as I sat on the jet-ski, waiting for him to climb on.
"I don't trust you," he said, standing off to the side on the platform, hands folded across his chest.
"You're wearing a life vest. Nothing bad's gonna happen. I'll go slow," I said, trying to reassure him.
I had been trying to convince Zayn to ride on the back of this jet-ski with me for the last hour but he was extremely terrified of water.
"What if you hit a wave wrong and the whole thing flips over?"
"Zayn. Just get on," I insisted.
He groaned and slowly climbed behind me onto the jet-ski, wrapping his arms tightly around my body and I grinned.
"There you go. Good boy."
"Bout time," said Niall, who had been waiting for us on the other single rider jet-ski. "You ready lads?"
We started the jet skis up and I slowly followed Niall out into the water and Zayn's hold on me tightened as I increased the speed.
"Ok I have to get off."
"No you don't. Relax."
I increased the speed a little and we glided over the waves, far out to sea. The wind blew through our hair and I just wished that we could keep driving it as far out as possible until we found an island that we could just escape to and have sex all day. That was the dream.
"See, isn't this sick!?" I shouted above the sound of the revving.
"Alright, alright, you win. This is pretty sick," Zayn finally agreed.
See, I told him he had nothing to be afraid of. I was trying to get him to face his fears and actually have some fun with us and I was proud that he was trying. I viewed Zayn as my precious cargo, so I wasn't going to go crazy and freak him out, plus, it mattered to me that Zayn trusted me. After we rode around for awhile we returned back to the yacht and Zayn climbed onto the jet ski that Niall had been riding.
"Oh so you're gonna drive it yourself now?"
"Yeah, let's go!" he exclaimed, revving up the engine and I couldn't help but smile so big at the sight of him having fun.
I never wanted this day to end.
After we returned back to the yacht all of us chilled out just lounging in the sun before we had to head out to the studio in Miami to shoot some scenes. The scheduling was so chaotic for the "Best Song Ever" music video, but we were jazzed at the concept of it. All of us were given different alternative characters to play and when I tell you that I could not stop thinking about Zayn's character, it was not an overstatement.
Ben picked Zayn to be the one dressed up as a sexy receptionist, who they named Veronica Malik, and he was in hair and makeup for hours later that day. Mine was Marcel, a little squirrelly nerd, which was a lot less intense, so I was peaking around to see the other boys in their get ups and when I saw Zayn dressed in full make-up, a wig, boobs, heels, I bloody lost my mind over how attractive I thought he was.
Hours after the shooting ended and it was still messing with me. Zayn and I were headed back to the hotel while the others were still finishing up their scenes and Veronica Malik would not leave my mind. Once we got through the massive crowd of fans who were waiting outside, we made our way up to my hotel room.
"After being a woman all day I need to do something to reinstate my manhood," Zayn said, flopping onto the bed.
"You wanna punch me?"
"Kinda, yeah."
"Alright you get one clean shot. In the arm," I responded, slapping my bicep.
Zayn prepared a fist and I closed my eyes, waiting for him to power into my arm, but instead he kissed his knuckles and went in gently, tapping them against my heart tattoo.
"I'm too soft. I couldn't hurt you."
"He said romantically with his hand around my neck," I replied.
Zayn raised his eyebrows at me and smirked. I proceeded to turn on the TV and the first thing that came on was the film "Pretty Woman."
"Okay that's too ironic," he said, sitting up against the bed pillows.
"I think the universe is trying to tell you something, Zayn," I said, wiggling my eyebrows at him as I grabbed us beers out of the mini fridge, even though I didn't even like beer.
"Will you let it go already!? Veronica is never coming back."
I pouted for dramatic affect and laid down next to him on the bed.
"Can you please turn this shit off and put on something else? Like football," Zayn said and I rolled my eyes.
"Wish I could have taken Veronica back to my hotel room instead of you; she seemed like more fun."
"You're ridiculous."
I turned "Pretty Woman" off and found a football game, which I actually ended up getting really into around my fourth drink, switching over to hard seltzer because I just really, really hated the taste of beer for some reason. About midway through the game I noticed Zayn was trying to get my attention. He kept glancing at me, but I pretended not to notice. Usually it was me that was always trying to get Zayn's attention, because I was typically the more pathetic one. But the more into the game I got, the more he tried to direct my focus toward him. I decided I was going to prove to myself that I wasn't a pushover. Zayn's mysterious spell didn't always have to work and I was going to stand my ground and watch this game without having any sex whatsoever.
Then Zayn took off his pants.
"It's hot as fuck in here no?"
"No it's not."
"Well, I'm hot."
He laid beside me with his legs spread open, practically inviting me to look at the outline of his cock through his briefs. But I didn't take one peek at him. I just laid there with my legs crossed in front of me. Trust me, it was difficult. I kept making this forced small talk about the game and I could tell Zayn was frustrated by his body language. I tried to hide my amusement. After a little while Zayn leaned over and whispered in my ear something I never thought I'd hear him say.
"What do I have to do to get you to fuck me?"
Remember how I literally just said Zayn's spell didn't always have to work and I was going to stand my ground? Well, I lied.