The alcohol flowed freely and the guy next to me had about ten hands because they were constantly touching my body despite my meager attempts to keep them away. But I really didn't want to keep them away; I was putting up a little bit of a fight to show I wasn't that easy.
It was a Friday night in late September. The Tucson heat was beginning to subside to a more comfortable temperature. I had made a few friends since moving there and they took me out for my birthday. We were at one of the cowboy slash rock bars that dotted the Speedway. I was drunk enough to let my inhibitions down and getting drunker.
As the live music pounded away in the relatively small bar I found myself in a corner with this guy who I think said his name was Steve, but I wasn't sure. Many beers and a few shots of tequila had done their job making me very horny. It had been a long summer since I last saw Chris Cornell.
Steve was as close to a cowboy as you could get in Tucson. Right down to the tight jeans, big belt buckle and western boots. Thankfully he did not have a cowboy hat; I don't think I could have gone for that.
"So, baby," he purred into my ear. "Can I take you somewhere?" He slid his hands along my ass and pulled my pelvis towards him. I swear he already had a hard on and I hadn't even kissed him.
"You can take me home," I said in a tone that promised more later. What the hell.
He nipped my ear once. "Only if I can come...in."
I laughed at the innuendo and looked around for my friends. They were nowhere to be seen so I figured it wouldn't be rude if I left without saying good-bye and thank you.
"Ok, then let's go," I said pulling him along behind me. If he was a dog, his tongue would be hanging out.
We stumbled out into the parking lot and the cool desert air washed over me. I hadn't realized how hot it was in that bar. It felt good and even revived me a bit. Steve guided me to his truck and we made out for a bit before climbing in. Then we roared out of the lot leaving a trail of dust.
I chatted away about anything and everything while giving him directions to my house. It was located way out of town and eventually I ran out of things to say. Steve didn't mind as his hand kept wandering to my thigh. I let him do it.
"You're not married or anything or you?" he asked as at last we pulled up in front of my house.
"No way, why?"
"Boyfriend?"
"Er, no."
He was silent for a few seconds.
"Well, there's another car in your driveway and I think it is occupied."
I peered out the window and saw a very sleek black Mercedes in the driveway. It did look like someone was in it, but I had no idea who.
"It could be someone at the wrong house," I said.
"Let me find out before you get out," he offered. Steve parked his truck and slid out of the seat. I watched him approach the car and go to the driver's side. The window was open.
"Excuse me?" he asked quietly. "Hello?"
I could only hear one side of the conversation.
"Yeah, um are you at the right house?" Steve asked after the occupant said something to him. "Yes, this is Kat's house...who wants to know?" Pause. "Does she know you?"
I got out of the truck and realized I was drunker than I thought. I stumbled once and fell to the ground.
"Oh shit," Steve said, giving up on the conversation and going over to me. "You ok?"
"Fuck," I mumbled as the ground started to rotate around me. There was only one thing that was going to happen now, I thought and it was indeed my last thought as I passed out.
* * *
It had been a long time since I drank like that and passed out. I thought at my age I was past that, but apparently I wasn't done being immature yet. I woke up around dawn still in my clothes with a queasy stomach and a pounding head. Looking around I saw with relief that I was in my own bed but how I got there, I didn't know. Hazy memories crept into my consciousness but nothing connected. Groaning, I got out of bed and used the bathroom to purge the last of the tequila from my system.
Some minutes later I emerged feeling a little better. I was desperately thirsty so I ventured out of my room to the kitchen for some ice water. My house was quiet in the early dawn and I was thankful for that because any noise that day would only make the headache worse. When I entered the living room, which was connected to a small galley kitchen, I almost let out a shout when I saw a long figure crashed on my couch. My mind quickly went back to the previous night and remembered being picked up at the bar and taken home. But search as I may, I couldn't think of the guy's name or really what he looked like. Not that it would matter, it was dark in the room and he was snoring softly with his back to me.
I crept by him and went into the kitchen to get my water as quietly as I could. When I passed back through the living room again I noticed a large overnight bag on a chair. Did this guy think he was staying the weekend or something? I didn't remember him being from out of town, but again the memories were hazy. I decided to go back to bed and pretend he wasn't there. Maybe when I woke up he'd be gone.
I did wake some hours later and although my stomach was settled, my head still ached, but at least it was a dull ache. The sun was shining brightly outside, as usual. I got up and pulled the shades down and shut the window. No need to pump all the A/C outside. I used the bathroom again and pulled on my robe wondering if my 'guest' had decided to leave. I certainly was in no state for visitors, especially ones I couldn't recall.
When I exited my room I heard the TV going and my heart sank. This was going to weird, I thought. I took a deep breath and entered the living room.
I was totally unprepared for who was sitting there. He looked up at me with those green eyes and broke out into a wide grin. Never had I wanted to see someone so badly but at the wrong moment.
"Well, well, well," Chris Cornell, that god of all rock gods said with a sly grin. "I was wondering if you were going to make an appearance or if I'd have to go in there and scare the shit out of you."
I stood still in the middle of the room, my mouth hanging open.
"Chris! What the hell?"
He was sitting on the couch with a pair of cargo shorts on and nothing else. A notebook was open in his lap and a pen lay in the crease. A cup of coffee was nearby. He looked like he had been living here all along.
He stretched his arms out wide. "Surprise!"
I wasn't sure what to say. More hazy memories came back but I couldn't piece it together. Chris scanned my face and realized I had no idea what had happened. I slumped down into my favorite chair across from the couch.
Chris laughed and my heart soared at seeing him again despite the circumstances.
"I guess you don't remember last night," he said, still smiling.
"Did I...did I do anything?"
"Just passed out in your driveway. Are you ok?"
I nodded. "Just a headache."
"Been there a number of times, believe me." He paused to take a sip of coffee. I was amazed at how he had made himself at home. Maybe it was from being on the road for the last half year. "Anyways, some guy took you home and found me parked in your driveway."
"Oh shit," I said, embarrassed.
He waved it away. "No worries. He was quizzing me about who I was and even though I told him, he didn't know who I was." He seemed unaffected by the fact that people didn't know him. "Then you fell and we both went to help you. By then you were out of it. We helped you inside and into bed. I told him I was your cousin," he added with a sheepish grin.
"Oh..." My face burned.
"Are you and Mr. Cowboy..." he started.
"No, no," I said. "Just some guy I met." And then suddenly tears sprang to my eyes and a great feeling of sadness and loneliness welled up inside me.
"Kat, what's wrong?" Chris asked in a voice filled with concern.