Page 50 of Just a Footnote

Liam laughs softly causing Aiden’s hair to ruffle a little. “I missedyou.”

Aiden hates him. He hates those words. He wishes he couldbend over and Liam could fuck his brains out right here in the middle of the bar. If he’s fucking Liam then it’s easier to pretend that’s all this is between them. Liam is just confused by lust now because Aiden is so hot. He’ll move to Seattle, find a cute young girl, and forget all about Aiden. The way it should be. The way ithasto be.

“Shut up,” Aiden says darkly.

“Make me.”

Aiden turns his head so that their mouths are a breath apart. “Tomorrow night.”

“I don’t know if I’m more excited about the draft or tomorrow night in my hotel room.”

“Don’t be stupid,” Aiden admonishes. “It’s definitely the hotel room.”

Liam’s hand lands on his hip, possessive and hot, and Aiden closes his eyes against the weight of it against him. “Dance with me?”

“No fucking way,” Aiden says through a laugh. He turns around so he’s looking away from the dance floor, leaning his elbows against the table. “You go dance. I’ll watch.”

“Would you like that?”

“Sure, I like to watch you.”

Liam laughs, soft and low. “Not as much as you like to put on a show.”

Liam sneaks a glance out at the dance floor. Emboldened by whatever he sees, he leans forward and places a quick, claiming kiss against Aiden’s mouth. Aiden pulls away as if he’s been slapped.

“Someone could see,” Aiden hisses.

“You think I care?”

Aiden lets his eyes slide closed on a sigh. “You should.”

Liam rests his hand against Aiden’s stomach, feeling the quickness of Aiden’s breaths. Aiden doesn’t want Liam’s hand todisappear, but also doesn’t want them to be seen. He’d forgotten what being in Liam’s proximity does to him, what it does to his brain. Closeness to Liam makes him stupid, reckless, unable to reign in his emotions that he really shouldn’t be having at all. He’s got to step away.

Pulling out of Liam’s grasp, he nods towards the dance floor. “I actually think I will dance. How aboutyouwatch?”

Liam’s gaze darkens, his mouth quirks up in the corners, and Aiden knows he’s going to pay for this stunt tomorrow night. Hopefully hard and fast. That’s the currency he likes best after all.

The dance floor smells like beer and sweat. Line dance has devolved into bodies swaying together, like any other club, except to the beat of Tim McGraw instead of some unintelligible club tune. Clubbing has never been one of Aiden’s favorite activities. When he used to pick-up it was either on an app or at a party. Clubs are too noisy, too many people, too many chances of someone grabbing him in a way that sets his stupid anxiety off. But he doesn’t care tonight because being next to Liam in a crowded bar where someone can see them kiss is worse than the idea of having an anxiety attack on the dance floor.

His curls are sticky with sweat as he sways on the dance floor. Not even dancing with anyone in particular, just losing himself to the music, willing himself to get lost in the moment. Closing his eyes, he lets go. He doesn’t know how long he dances like that. Could be minutes, could be an hour, he’s not sure, but he is sure when someone’s arm snakes around his waist and he knows it’s not Liam. This man smells nothing like Liam, doesn’t have the same too tender touch, something about that fries his brain. He freezes on the dance floor, breath coming in quick, harsh pants.

The man behind him hasn’t noticed he’s frozen, or doesn’t care, Aiden doesn’t know which one pisses him off more. Heshould shove him off, kick his instep, or punch him, but something about the moment has him rooted to the spot. Like some type of animal caught in a trap. The man’s hand caresses his hip, forcing bile to rise up in his throat. He hates when people touch him. He spins around, shoving the man back a step. Just when he’s about to let loose on the stranger, Liam appears, shoving the man further into the crowd.

Aiden can see the rage on Liam’s face plain as day. It’s in his eyes, in the tension of his shoulders too, as if he’s ready to shove the man to the ground to pummel him. That’s how he looks on the ice before he drops his gloves. And all the instincts that have been carefully built into him his entire life, rise to the surface, to protect Liam from a bar brawl the night before the NHL draft. He doesn’t care about the man that touched him, about a fucking bar fight, but he cares about Liam Walsh.

“No!” He shouts at Liam while roughly grabbing Liam’s bicep. “Look at me.”

Liam turns to look at him, chest heaving. Aiden squeezes his bicep, aiming to reassure Liam, but also steadying himself. “Take me outside, yeah?”

When he glances back towards the man, he’s gone, probably too drunk to even know he almost got beat up by a future NHL star. No one’s paying them any attention and Aiden wants to keep it that way. His blood boils as they make their way through the crowded dance floor, towards the bar exit. The heat outside isn’t much better from the sweaty heat of the bar. Balmy air washes over his face when they step outside, a few people are milling around, but mostly they’re alone.

“You didn’t need to do that. What if someone had seen you?” Aiden asks through his teeth, shoving his hands into his pockets to keep himself from doing something stupid like touching Liam. “That was fucking reckless. I was fine.”

Liam grunts in anger. “You were frozen the second he touched you. I saw your face. You thought I’d just sit back?”

“Yes.” Aiden eyes him carefully, taking in the angry cut of Liam’s jaw. He looks so fucking pissed, but Aiden doesn’t know if he’s still mad at the stranger or if he’s angry at Aiden. He’s too tired to try to figure it out. “You could have ruined everything.”

Liam just stares at him. He keeps staring, and Aiden can’t fucking take it. He looks up at the cloudy sky, wishing he could see the stars. See something to remind him he’s on earth, pushed down by gravity, because right about now it feels like he’s about to float off the face of the earth.