Page 71 of Second Chance with the Enemy CEO
“Don’t Hazel me,” I say, tugging him further into the thrumming crowd. “You can’t just stand around looking pretty. That is not how this works.”
When did I become this bold? Huh…
He raises a brow, clearly giving up. “Are you drunk?” He asks, half-joking but with a hint of genuine curiosity.
“Just a bit tipsy,” I admit, holding my thumb and forefinger a fraction apart. “But tipsy me has excellent taste, and tipsy me says you need to loosen up.”
He lets out a resigned chuckle, the sound rumbling deep in his chest. I stop in a spot where the beat is so loud it feels like it is vibrating in my bones.
“Okay, here’s the deal,” I say, turning to face him. “All you have to do is move to the beat. No fancy footwork required. Just loosen up.”
“Loosen up,” he echoes, his tone dry but his lips twitching.
“Yes!” I nod enthusiastically. “Look around - you know no one cares how anyone else looks. It is about feeling the music. Besides, everyone here should have been used to your footwork by now. I bet they miss it and will be excited to see you do it again.”
We danced - if you can call whatever we did dancing, and after a few more songs, Liam eventually did his one-legged dancing, causing cheers - for a few more minutes, and I cannot remember the last time I laughed this much.
By the time we finally step away from the crowd, my cheeks ache from smiling, and I feel like I have run a marathon. We find a quiet spot under one of the canopies, just far enough from the pounding music to hear ourselves think. Liam sets a six-pack of beer on the weathered wooden table between us, cracking open a fresh one.
I take a sip of my beer, savoring the chilled bitterness as I lean back in my chair. Across from me, Liam is sprawled out, his shirt slightly damp from dancing.
“I’ll admit it; that was fun.”
“All because of my stellar dance moves, obviously,” Liam replies, smirking as he pops the cap off another bottle.
“Your moves are..., memorable, I’ll give you that.” I grin, gesturing vaguely. “I don’t know why it gets the crowd every time.”
“Hey, don’t knock it,” he says, pointing at me with his bottle, “it’s called improvisation.”
“Improvisation,” I echo, laughing, “sure, let’s call it that.”
He chuckles, shaking his head. For a moment, we sit in comfortable silence, the kind that feels like an exhale after a long day.
“You know,” I start, breaking the comfortable silence, “this reminds me of that summer we all went camping. You and the guys had that ridiculous dance-off around the campfire.”
Liam chuckles, the sound low and warm. “Oh, come on, do not bring that up. I was robbed of my rightful win.”
I snort. “You did the funky chicken with twerking, Liam. Together. How exactly were you supposed to win with that?”
He raises his beer, pointing it at me with mock indignation. “It was creative. You cannot deny that.”
“Creative is one word for it,” I say, rolling my eyes. “I think Logan nearly fell into the fire from laughing too hard.”
“He did fall. I had to pull him out before he roasted his arm,” Liam says, shaking his head. “That trip was chaotic.”
“Yeah, but it was a good kind of chaos,” I say softly, staring out at the distant crowd. “Back when everything felt simpler.”
He glances at me, his expression thoughtful. “Yeah, simpler times. No responsibilities, no pressure…, no mess.”
“You ever think about it?” I ask, my voice is quieter now. “Those days?”
He exhales, running a hand through his hair. “Sometimes. More than I care to admit. And you?”
I shake my head. “I try not to think about it too much,” I say honestly.
“When was the last time you went to a concert?” Liam asks suddenly, leaning back on his elbows.
I glance at him, surprised. I think for a moment, brushing my hair out of my face as the wind picks up. “It has been a while. I have been too busy to even think about going to one.”
