Making Shadows With Their Footprints

Norah threw back the icy tequila, savoring the sweet burn. The warmth curled in her stomach and spread to her limbs. The over-eager stranger who chose to leave his entire group of friends because he insisted on buying her and her friend shots offered Norah a lime for the third time. She shook her head once more.

“So, where are you guys from?” he slurred and dropped the piece of fruit into his empty shot glass that sat on the polished wood surface of the bar.

“You’ve already asked us that, a couple of times now. We’re from Michigan, remember? Just. Like. You,” Norah said as politely as she could, masking her annoyance. He was a nice kid, but he was too drunk.

“Oh, yeah. Yeah, I remember.” He swayed unsteadily using the bar as support.

Norah adjusted the low neckline of her romper, making sure only a tasteful tease of cleavage showed through the peek-a-boo cutout. Running a hand through her dark hair, she shook out her curls and scanned the vicinity. The bar was packed as was typical for a midsummer night in Nashville. A few feet to the right of her and Caitlin were two very good-looking men standing among the hoard of people attempting to grab the attention of one of the many over-worked bartenders.

The shorter of the two wore a snug T-shirt made of a material so buttery soft it clung to his body like a second skin and deliciously accentuated the sculpted muscles beneath. He had a snowy scene tattooed on his well-defined arm. A frozen lake with hockey players on the ice, flocked by pine trees with snowcapped mountains off in the distance. The remainder of the tattoo was hidden by the sleeve of his muted-olive shirt.

Norah angled her head closer to her friend Caitlin’s. “What do you think the rest of his tattoo looks like?” Norah asked, subtly pointing the guy out with her skinny black cocktail straw. She brought it to her mouth, biting the end in contemplation.

Caitlin took a sip from her beer then tilted her head to the side, studying the fine details of the monochrome tattoo before she looked at him and the type of vibe he was giving off.

“If I had to guess…maybe a bear?” She looked at Norah with a raised brow and a slight shrug of her shoulders.

Norah pulled the straw from between her lips and began to swirl it around the ice in her vodka cranberry. “I bet you it’s a wolf.”

Caitlin sighed and thought, here we go. Her best friend was about to prey on these two unsuspecting men to ditch the over-intoxicated guy that couldn’t take a hint. The two girls joked they were like a less tan, slightly less chaotic version of Snooki and JWOWW, but Snooki’s famous line from season one held true, wherever Norah and Cait went, the party came with.

Norah closed the distance between her and the boys. She ran her hand over the sleeve of the tatted guy’s shirt, her wine-colored nails tracing along the flexed, ink-covered muscle slowly, letting her fingers fall away when she reached the middle of his forearm. He glanced first at her hand before finding her eyes.

“I bet I can guess what the other half of your tattoo is.” She closed her mouth around the straw in her glass. A coy smile lifted the corner of her lips.

The two male friends looked at each other with a bit of surprise. She’d caught them off guard. It was kind of her thing.

“Really?” The tattooed one questioned with a curve of his brow, his tone one of curiosity bordering skepticism.

“My friend guessed a bear, but I disagree. It’s a wolf.”

The guy, who the girls would soon be introduced to as Trey, exchanged an amused look with his friend, James. Trey’s smirk grew slowly, in an effortless, unaffected way. He had a nice smile and kind, hazel eyes that held a glint of mischief. Trey lifted the sleeve of his shirt. Sure enough, Caitlin and Norah were greeted by the intense vigilance of a wolf’s stare. Norah was good at games like this. Born with an intuition that taught her it wasn’t simply reading people; it’s also seeing what isn’t there that allows you to truly understand them.

“How did you know it would be a wolf?”

“It wasn’t hard to figure out. You and your friend here, you kind of exude a certain alpha-male je ne sais quoi.” Norah presented Trey a certain smile, the smile that enticed men.

He gave her a crooked grin in return. His body language changed, opening up to her and striking up a casual conversation about his tattoo. Gotcha, darling.

James came off a little quiet, perhaps a tad apprehensive. His dirty-blond hair was tucked beneath a backward baseball hat that Norah had to appreciate. Dressed in a simple, fitted-cotton tee stretched across his broad shoulders, he held his “not quite pale ale” in one hand with his arms crossed over his strong chest. Norah smiled to herself.

The universal stance of reservation. I bet he’s a Capricorn. Outwardly stoic but rippling with emotional depth beneath the surface. Whether he’s disinterested, or unimpressed, I’ll remedy that.

The guy from earlier hovered nearby, waiting expectantly. When there was a break in the conversation, Norah turned in his direction. “I’m sorry, I totally got swept away in conversation with my friends. Thank you so much for the shots. That really was so kind of you. I think your friends went next door. You should probably catch up with them. I hope you all have safe travels home,” she said sweetly.

He stumbled back and forth, mumbling how he enjoyed meeting them before offering a muffled goodbye and faded into the crowd. Trey arched a brow accompanied by an amused smirk.

“We can go make friends with someone else if you’d prefer?” Norah challenged playfully.

“No, that’s all right. I’ll let ya’ stick around,” he teased. “Can I get you and your friend a drink?”

“Of course you can, darling.”

That sly grin of his appeared again. He held out his arm in the direction of the bar, allowing Norah to go first. She grabbed Caitlin’s hand, pulling her along and brushed against Trey as she squeezed through the crowd that surrounded the bar top.

James gave his friend a pointed look. Trey shrugged his shoulders with a chagrined expression.

“I know, I know I said I was ready to go after I finished my beer but it’s one round. And they’re hot as fuck, what do you want from me?”

“I guess I’ll take another beer,” James said dryly but smirked at his friend.

“That’s the spirit, always a team player.” He clapped James on the back and nodded his head in the direction the girls went.

James sighed and followed Trey to the bar. I mean, really what can the harm be in one drink?

After a second round, the girls learned that the boys played professional hockey for the ECHL. Trey was telling them about their last season, how they’d made it to the playoffs and ultimately won the Kelly Cup.

“And that was the first time you won?” Norah asked. It was pretty impressive. Impressive and hot as fuck.

“Yeah, definitely still riding that high a bit.”

“As you should. And you’re on break now? Are you from the area then?”  Caitlin turned to Trey on the heels of her white boots. Her light-blue eyes continued to catch his attention, about as much as the slinky red-satin dress she wore.

“I doubt it, they have accents,” Norah commented in an absentminded sort of way before Trey was given the chance to answer. She dragged her gaze away from the band that started off playing 80s covers but slipped into some uninspired alt. rock set that wasn’t working.

“How would you…?” Trey furrowed his brow, intrigue playing in his eyes. “Okay, Ms. Know It All, where are we from?” he asked with a hint of challenge in his voice, certain there was no way she could guess. He didn’t even consider himself to have an accent.

“Oh, that’s cute. You don’t think you have one. We all have accents, or dialects, rather. The way you talk is kind of ‘folksy.’ Trey yours isn’t as strong, but James…” At the drop of his name, he lifted his eyes to stare directly into Norah’s. A jolt of universal energy ran through her like an electrical current, sending a delicious shiver down her spine. Such a pale crystalline blue, the eyes themselves pristine but there was indiscernible hurt hidden within. “You have a slight break in some of your words, sometimes your ‘i’ sounds like ‘oy’ and you don’t always pronounce your ‘t’s’…”

“Okay, so what’s your guess? You only get one.” James laid down the terms. He still hadn’t warmed to Norah and Caitlin as rapidly as Trey had.

In the right circumstances, James was a very welcoming and friendly individual. But unlike Trey, he preferred to study people before thorough engagement. If he took the time to put the effort in, it needed to be worth it. He enjoyed building multilayered connections but more often than not the girls who approached him sucked him into dull and pointless conversations that led to even duller sex.

“You’re from the East Coast. Vermont, if I only get one guess. And I bet you, James, you grew up in the country. Family of farmers?” Norah cocked her head in an overtly assured manner, her honeyed voice a provocative simper. The beguiled smile that appeared on her dusty-rose colored lips touched her green eyes. Those eyes.

James had started to develop a pretty good read on Norah. She was smart and intuitive but not full of herself. She already knew she was right, but James was confident she wouldn’t gloat. She maintained a level of cool detachment intended to leave an air of mystery. She was the type of girl who liked to play games. She liked to have fun. To be quite frank, Norah was trouble. It was the type of inconspicuous trouble that was dangerous, the kind that’s my weakness.

“How the hell did you guess that?” Trey huffed out the words with a laugh of disbelief and ran his fingers through his light-brown hair, smoothing the lush strands away from his face.

“I’m—”

“She’s a witch,” Caitlin said with a silly little smile that both boys disregarded with a laugh. “Alright, this band has gone off the rails. Let’s go upstairs. There’s a hip-hop vibe on the third floor. We can put you boys to the test, see what you have to work with.”

Caitlin hip-checked Trey in a playful way, then seductively rolled her body against his, capturing his full attention. He readily followed behind her as the group wove their way through the crowd packed with hopeful singles, drunken bachelorettes, and middle-aged music groupies.

“Norah, do we do our thing and get the bouncer to let us up?” Caitlin asked and tossed her head to indicate the line that wound its way around the bar in a gesture that sent her long, wheat-colored hair in a cascade across her shoulder.

“You don’t have to bother with all that. It’ll only get people riled up. I know a better bar than this anyway,” Trey offered in an easy-going manner.

Norah hid the boy’s unfinished beers in the three-quarter sleeves of her romper before the small group wandered out into the street amongst the diverse array of strangers who flocked to this ever-popular tourist destination. They crossed the blocked off street to a corner bar, dropping the beers they’d finished on the short walk into a trash can on the sidewalk. Trey held open the door to a tiny foyer leading directly to a staircase where a bouncer sat on an old barstool checking IDs at the top.

Norah handed her ID back to Cait who slipped it into the side of her bra after the bouncer waved them through. Trey was right, this place had an entirely different vibe. It was the kind of bar that didn’t have anything to prove. It wasn’t very busy and occupied with locals, the crowd thinning out after midnight as the tourists sought out the more popular, arguably overhyped, establishments. This bar had character which Norah preferred over the coveted bars on the strip.

The foursome congregated at one corner of the rectangular bar that divided the large space. Darkened, empty tables with flipped chairs stacked on top were to the left. A dim dance floor was to the right, lined by a brick wall made up of raised, glass garage doors leading to an expansive rooftop patio that was a signature of Nashville.

“Same drink order? Or do you want to switch it up?” Trey asked without a second thought. The girls hadn’t paid for a single drink since they linked up with him and James. Trey looked appalled when Norah tried to order a round. He said he wasn’t raised that way. It might be old fashioned, and he didn’t mean any disrespect, but his dad would disown him if he let her pay.

Norah shrugged it off. It was cute if not endearing. He wasn’t doing it as a show of male-ego, and he didn’t hold any expectations either. Caitlin stood to the side eating that shit up and peered up at Trey with a glaze of intoxication at the edges of her eyes. Norah had to be the responsible one tonight. Once Caitlin got that look, it was rare she’d come back from it.

She wandered off to get water from the sports-sized beverage cooler at the opposite end of the bar. Norah was mid-sentence when Trey’s face changed and pointed past her shoulder.

“I think your friend might be sick…”

Norah paled. Caitlin was nowhere near her limit, so what the hell could’ve happened in the last three minutes? With a swift turn on her platform heels, Norah hurried over to Caitlin. She was giggling, her hand half covering her mouth, left somewhat agape as she fanned to cool the contents inside.

“Caitlin? Are you good? What’s going on?”

“Yeah…whew…” Caitlin spoke around the food once it had cooled enough to chew and swallow. “Sorry, Nor. I was so hungry, and my friends here offered me deep fried pickles. But they’re hot as shit, I had to spit the first one out.”

Caitlin giggled again. An amused smile grew on Norah’s face. She really was like Snooki, and it was only typical that she would’ve made more friends. It’s what the two of them did after all. Collected friends and stories along their many adventures. Stories I’m supposed to write…

“This is Mike, and this is Gary. Mike works here, and Gary came to keep him company,” Caitlin explained. Mike smiled with a nod. He stood on the other side of the bar pouring a double whiskey neat while Gary sat on one of the stools feeding Caitlin another pickle.

“This is Norah, guys,” she said after swallowing.

“Hiya, Norah, nice to meet ya’. Would ya’ like a pickle, little lady?” Gary’s tone was syrupy sweet for a man of his size, his skin a beautiful shade of ebony. He was a good-natured guy without a mean bone in his body. Norah had always had a knack for these kinds of things and graciously accepted the pickle, unable to resist a good late-night snack.

After helping Gary finish his basket of pickles and promising they’d come tomorrow night to eat appetizers with him again, the girls broke away and walked back along the bar to where they’d left Trey and James behind.

“Friends of yours?” Trey asked with a teasing smile.

“We make friends with a lot of people,” Caitlin said offhandedly with a little wink. She picked up the Bells Oberon beer Trey ordered for her and shuffled in the direction of the well-loved dance floor. The pine wood was polished to a subtle sheen in a vain attempt to cover years of boot scuffs.

Caitlin’s hips were already moving to the twangy beat of “Chicken Fried” and the powerful, charismatic voice of the lead singer. Norah nodded her head toward the floor, indicating to the boys they should follow. Norah watched Caitlin’s footwork and how the four women sitting at a high-top table to the right were tapping their boot-clad feet in time with Cait’s steps.

Cait raised her brow and looked at Norah with a smile of invitation. Norah flicked her eyes upward in a half-hearted eye roll since they were about to take over the dance floor.

She skipped over to the table where the four older women sat with a warm smile. It didn’t take much to persuade them, a few kind words and a silly joke, and then they were sliding from their chairs, jumping right in. The six women fell in line, blissful smiles and easy laughter on all their faces. The balmy, late-night summer air swirled in from outside, carrying with it the smell of honeysuckle and BBQ from the after-hours street food vendors.

Trey couldn’t tear his eyes away from Caitlin when she started to kick her feet and k-step into a grapevine. Her red dress hugged her body as she moved, the chunky, gold necklace she wore was designed to draw attention to her cleavage, which she didn’t lack. He honestly couldn’t say he’d ever seen a girl with a better ass and her legs looked like they belonged to that of a runner, her cowboy boots highlighting the curves of her calves. Caitlin caught Trey as he checked her out and gave him a flirtatious little smirk.

With the change of song, he approached her and offered his hand before spinning her toward the middle of the relatively empty floor. Caitlin couldn’t contain the smile that forced its way across her lips at how seamless they were when she and Trey two-stepped along to the music.

Norah fell back to the side, standing about a foot away from James and watched Caitlin lose herself in the song. It was her thing. Some people meditated, Caitlin danced. Her favorite escape from the stresses of everyday life.

To see her best friend so carefree as Trey swung and twirled her around the floor gave Norah those warm fuzzies in the bottom of her stomach. She felt something else too. A sensation that began to override all the rest. It’s him.

James’ presence was a distraction, permeating the space held between them. He had an energy she could taste. The kind Norah craved. It spoke to her before he even introduced himself, but she was trying to respect his boundaries.

He didn’t open himself up in the same way as Trey. Trey had a true gentle nature. He wanted to see the good in everyone, and it lent him a trustful innocence. If Norah had to make another guess, she’d say both boys were younger than her and Caitlin, but Trey was without a doubt the youngest of the bunch. James wasn’t so trustful. He guarded himself because he knew true pain.

“You trying to get a read on me?” James asked. His eyes were fixed ahead as he unconsciously picked at the Mad Hat #9 label with his thumbnail.

“I think I already have. Wouldn’t you say?” Norah tried to sweeten the cockiness in her voice with a layer of sugar.

“Maybe so, but in all seriousness, how did you guess that?” James gave her a sideway glance.

“I collect weird parlor tricks to stash away for occasions such as this.” Peering up at him from under her brows, she bit the tip of her straw and taunted him with a deliberate smile before taking a sip of her drink.

“Alright, message received. You like to keep your secrets. That’s fine.” James stared ahead again.

Norah turned toward him with a sigh and released the straw from her mouth. “It’s an easy one, why don’t you give it a try? I know you’ve been trying to gauge me as I have with you. Where do you think I’m from?”

James looked at her with apprehension but gave in. “Fine. I’ll play your game. You’re not from the south. I’ve spent enough time down here to know that.”

James took a moment to take her in. She was slender but not skinny, and although it was hard to know for sure with her heels, he gathered she was close in height to five-foot-seven. Norah wore a paisley printed romper, a mixture of reds, whites, and golds that complimented the green of her eyes. It was incredibly short and showed off the full length of her legs. Unlike Caitlin, and a large majority of the women in this town, Norah wasn’t wearing cowboy boots. She had on a pair of chunky, nude heels that were reminiscent of the style of the seventies.

Scanning her from head to toe, he realized the whole outfit was. She wore two different earrings; one with a large gold peace sign that dangled below the lobe. A variation of vintage, midi, and unique handmade rings adorned every finger.

Her long hair, only a couple shades from black, was curled in lush, loose waves with tiny braids mixed throughout. The longer he looked at her the more curious he became. Moments of silence had ticked by. He remained quiet because all he’d done was check her out and he couldn’t deny the feeling it stirred in his dick.

“So?” She raised her eyebrow in a way that dared him to confess what thoughts raced through his head.

“My guess is you’re from a big city.” James turned to face her head on. “The look you’re rocking makes me want to say somewhere in California, but then your fair complexion makes me think otherwise. I know you could prefer to avoid the sun, but I still don’t think that’s right. I think you’re from the Midwest. Chicago.”

“I give off big city vibes, huh?” Norah eyed him from under her dark lashes.

“In my experience most girls as outspoken and self-assured as yourself are from a decent sized metropolitan area, yeah.”

“I’d say thank you, but I’m not sure if that was intended as a compliment.”

“I’m pretty sure you know it was.” James spoke with candor. There was no reason not to. She read people far too well. He also knew his initial guess was wrong. “So, where are you from, Norah?” It was the first time he had said her name. It sounded delicate surrounded by the rustic timbre of his voice.

“You have part of the answer right. I am from the Midwest. I grew up in a small town in Michigan.”

“Is that right?” James drawled out, only further intrigued.

“We goes together like peas and carrots.” Norah winked at him, and a slow smile spread across her lips. A smile irresistible to the opposite sex, and James knew she was very aware of it.

He was about to give a retort to her Forrest Gump quote when Trey broke in.

“Are we interrupting something? The intensity in which you’re staring at one another looks like you’re about to rip into one another or tear each other’s clothes off.”

“Could be both if Norah’s involved.” Insinuation ran heavily through Caitlin’s words.

“So, you’re saying my boy might get lucky tonight.” Trey clapped James on the shoulder, shaking it with a squeeze.

“Not necessarily.” Caitlin intentionally left her answer vague.

“Care to elaborate?” Trey was all too willing to take the bait.

Caitlin took a slow calculated sip before she answered. “If she’s interested, then sure. But Norah here, has preferences. She’s picky,” Caitlin explained.

“I’m not picky. I’m particular about who I invite into my bed, and when has it ever been a crime to know exactly what you want?”

“Do you…do you think you know what you want?” Caitlin huffed a laugh that was full to the brim of loving irony. Norah went to protest but Trey spoke before she could.

“Alright, Norah, I’ll bite. What’s your type?” He stood a little straighter and nudged James’ arm with his shoulder like the only reason he asked was for James’ benefit.

“It’s not a type so much as a vibe.”

“Oh, bullshit,” Caitlin snickered and tossed her blonde hair over her shoulder with a roll of her baby blues.

“Fine, bitch.” Norah gave Caitlin the same sour face she had since they were kids. “I’ll never forego wearing heels, and there’s something about having to look up at guy…” Norah bit her lower lip with a certain glint in her eyes, the sinister underlying meaning of Norah’s words weren’t lost on the boys.

“So, I don’t go for a guy under six-foot-four, sorry Trey,” Norah said sweetly with a shrug of her shoulders and tilt of her head.

“That’s alright, as long as Caitlin’s fine with my height,” he teased. Caitlin smirked at him from over the glass of beer she held to her lips.

“What else?” James asked, maybe a little too eagerly. He’d been quiet since Caitlin and Trey rejoined them, but as much as he tried to play it off, his interest was piqued. He qualified so far.

“Well, tall, with a certain air. It’s not about looks so much as personality. It doesn’t hurt if he’s built, and I am a sucker for blue eyes.” Norah bathed James with her sultry green gaze. “I have to feel him, to connect. He needs to have a sexual appetite that matches mine, and I—well, I have certain proclivities—so he has to be okay with kinks.”

“Damn, Norah, you just lay it all out there, don’t ya’? Anything else we should know about?” Trey was as engaged as James after that confession. Who wouldn’t be?

Norah began to answer but the familiar guitar strum of “Somebody Like You” drowned out her words.

“Do you want to dance?” James’ spoke suddenly, his outstretched arm extended between the four of them, offering Norah an open hand.

“I started to wonder if I’d have to ask you myself.” The corner of Norah’s mouth twitched upward in a devilish grin.

She placed her dainty hand in his. The strength contained in James’ palm when he closed his fingers around hers sent a rush of warmth straight through her.

 He set his empty beer on the edge of the bar and led Norah out to dance. She was impressed at how well he guided her around the floor. Dancing with James was the freest she’d felt in a while. She peered up into eyes as intense as her own.

There’s something different about this one…