"Even egomaniacs sometimes have moments of self-doubt," he said.
"I've often thought the exact same thing."
"Whenever one of us gets down on ourselves, we'll have to remind each other how kick ass we are."
We smiled at each other. The room seemed to tilt, the floor turning wobbly beneath my feet — that familiar disorientation I always felt around Liam. This time, it didn't make me feel anxious or overwhelmed. It didn't make me feel like running away.
It made me want to stay wrapped in his arms, staring into those green eyes forever, until the stars went dark and the universe met its end.
We had stopped swaying. We stood in the middle of the club, dreamy expressions on both our faces. How embarrassing.
For once I didn't care.
We couldn't gaze into each other's eyes forever though. Eventually the real world intruded.
"I'm really thirsty," I told him. "I worked up a sweat on stage. Want me to grab you something from the bar while I'm there?"
"A beer is fine," Liam said.
With one last lingering look, I pushed my way to the bar. I leaned over the counter and waved to catch the bartender's attention. His eyes caught mine. His gaze immediately fell to my chest. He came over. I almost rolled my eyes. Of course my corset got his attention.
"One beer, one whiskey sour," I told him.
The bartender was at least professional enough to look me in the eyes while I ordered. He left to grab the drinks. I rested my back against the bar, waiting patiently. I was glad Liam had only wanted a beer. I certainly wouldn't have ordered him that twelve year high-class stuff he'd gotten last time, that was for damn sure.
I felt a nudge on my shoulder. I shifted away before a voice said my name.
“Hey, Cerise.”
Morris appeared beside me, his wide frame casting a shadow and blocking the club’s strobe lights from my eyes.
“Hey,” I returned. My chest squeezed, but it was only the barest hint of an ache. Seeing the proud look in Morris’s eyes made my heart swell. “Did we fucking rock out there or what?”
His lips tilted upward. “You fucking rocked,” he agreed. “I knew you would.”
“You want a drink?” I gestured to the bar.
He shook his head. “I don’t drink.”
“Since when?” Morris had always been, if not a heavy drinker, at least more than happy to chug back any beer that came his way.
“A while,” was all he said. "You guys were really great out there."
“I heard our fans compare us to Feral Silence,” I lied, hiding a smile. “Some even said we were better.”
“Don’t let Kell hear that,” Morris chuckled lightly.
“I can handle that raging narcissist,” I said. “After all, I’ve been putting up with my brother my whole life.”
“How is Gael?” Morris asked.
“He’s good,” I said. “Surprisingly good, actually. I didn’t think he’d ever settle down, but…” I shrugged and cast my eyes up to the second floor VIP room. I could see Gael and the guys through the glass walls. “Being in love suits him. He’s been acting out a lot less.”
“Not like he could have acted out worse,” Morris said dryly.
“Gael did go a bit too wild once the band got popular,” I said. “I was getting sick of bailing him and Nate out of jail or finding them in the middle of a trashed hotel room.”
“And what about you?” Morris asked quietly. “How have you been dealing with Gael’s new relationship?”
