Page 34 of Dangerous Pursuit
Liam leans back, laughing at my antics, so I roll my eyes, flip him off and turn my attention to the stage.
It bothers me. It bothers me to the point where my ears bleed for the first five songs, not accustomed to sounds so…aggressive, so in my face, but by the time the sixth and the seventh and the next one roll around I somehow manage to zone in, to absorb the crowd's energy and let it fill me, making me jump along with everyone else, and headbang, and scream out lyrics I don't know on the top of my lungs, because no one can really hear me, anyway.
Liam keeps switching between roaring, clapping and whistling, and he actually seems to know every word of the songs, his lips moving it shapes that match what the vocalist's singing. I pause my jumps, take a second to catch my breath and observe him, having fun, enjoying himself, and for the first time since I've met him, he seems truly happy.
I can't help but smile. Something about that realization makes me lighter. Freer. As if I weigh nothing and my feet lift off the ground, no longer submitting to the law of gravity. Or at least that's what itfeelslike when something comes over me and I jump as high as I can, using the shoulders of some random guy in front of me. And before my conscious brain can catch up with my recklessness, I'm diving, being carried on and passed forward by dozens, hundreds of hands until there are no more hands under me anymore, and I manage to somewhat graciously land on my feet. On the fucking stage.
The crowd roars, and I don't even need to look at the two bodyguards heading in my direction to know I'm not supposed to be here. The vocalist doesn't stop screaming at the mic butmakes a friendly nod. My eyes dart first left, then right to where the guards are approaching from both directions.
They're far enough, I decide. I can make it. With a cat-like swiftness I grab my phone from my back pocket, open up the camera app and step closer to the vocalist, angle my phone, make a face and snatch a selfie, the dude actually skipping a word of his song to bare his teeth for the camera and make that funny gesture rockers make with his fingers.
I throw him a "Thanks" he has no chance of hearing, and just as one of the bodyguards grabs my leg, I dive off the stage and into the crowd, hundreds of hands carrying me. And they continue to carry me all over the fucking room, back and forth twice, because I refuse to jump off until I finally spot Liam. After I land a few heads over, I notice another few bodies already flying up and letting themselves get carried toward the stage.
Before I have a chance to move, Liam squeezes his way over to me, grabs both of my shoulders, shakes me a bit and speaks words I can’t hear. His grip on me is strong, so my first instinct is that he wants to yell at me, let me know I've committed some type of faux pas I'm not aware of, but he doesn't look angry. He doesn't look happy either, he just seems…different.
He tries to say something again, so I shake my head and shrug, reminding him his sounds don't reach me. He nods then, points to the side where the gates are and taps my shoulder, and then, we elbow our way there, dodging accidental punches, trying not to get stomped over on our way, my heart performing dangerous backflips that grow more intense the closer to the exit we get.
What the fuck did I do wrong?
***
LIAM
THE BLAST OF the music and the collective roars of thousands of people dial down as we exit the main room, a much needed wave of cool air hitting my face, making it possible to breathe again. I have my eyes set on the end of the hallway to lower the amount of decibels even further, my ears ringing, when Xander, who's trailing behind me grabs my shoulder and spins me around when we're halfway there, puzzled look on his face.
"’Sup?" I ask, my voice gravelly from all the singing and laughing and screaming on top of my lungs.
"Okay,what?" he asks, the joy that was present on his face just minutes ago, the one I so desperately wanted to witness more of now gone.
I deflate. "What?"
"What did I do wrong? Just tell me so I know what to apologize for. This suspense is killing me."
I step in closer so that he doesn't need to yell and further turn heads of random people catching a breather in the area. "Wrong? I never said you did anything wrong. Did I?"
He opens his mouth, then closes it and huffs through his nose. "Well, you seem…I don't know. Intense."
I fight off the burst of laughter that's bubbling inside me and take another step forward. I glance around to make sure no one's paying attention to us and put one hand on his hip, pulling him toward me. "You're right. I do feel intense." I don't miss how his eyes double in size for a fraction of a second when I pullhim closer still, our bodies crashing together. "It's not because of anger, though. It's…" I try to find the words, but fail. Honestly? I don't know what it is. I'm shocked, and amused, and smitten and fucking horny at the same time, and if there's a word for that, then no, they didn't teach it in muscle school. "Come," I say instead and grab his wrist, spinning him around and dragging him to the end of the hallway, where I spot another door. "I'll show you."
"Show me? Show me what?" Xander asks from behind, trying to catch up with my impatient steps.
We reach the door and I grab the handle, but before I press it, I wrap my arm around Xander's waist and slam his body into mine now that we're away from prying eyes and ears. He yelps in surprise, but then he smiles that lustful smile of his and all is good with the world again. Because as long as I can bring him, and myself, to that point, I don't have to face whatever dangerous thoughts and stupid feelings are trying to surface. "I'll show you exactly just how intense that little stunt of yours made me feel."
"But the show's not over," he points out, just to be combative.
"Fuck the show," I say and press the handle.
The music still vibrates around us, sounds somewhat dulled as we not so patiently pace through a short, stuffy hallway, then another, and another. It's not until we reach an open area filled with equipment that I realize… "Shit," I whisper. "We're probably backstage."
Xander grins and waggles his brows. Not a care in the world with that guy. "Sweet. Full-on concert experience. Not bad for my first time."
My perfectly reasonable argument about the possibility of getting in trouble for trespassing leaves my brain as soon as in enters because Xander's mouth is already on mine, his hot firm body pressing against me, making me even hotter.
God, I wanted those lips.
He puts his hands on my hips and slides them under my t-shirt and up my sides.
I wanted those hands.
