2. Chloe #2
Do I know anything else about hockey? No.
My knowledge of the sport is limited to a few things. Knowing that the puck has to make it inside the net to score, that Chicago has a team and knowing some of the player’s names on said team.
Being a dancer for this particular dance company, you sometimes have to interact with the athletes and celebrities that the city has to offer.
Not only interact but when you live in a place like Chicago, a city that takes sports seriously, you come to know athletes’ names and faces without having to speak to them.
Which is how I know of Liam Crawford.
His face and name is plastered all over the place. There isn’t a day that goes by or a corner you can’t turn where you will be able to not see his face.
He’s on billboards, buses, and every pub and sports bar in the city has at least one poster of him or his jersey hanging on their walls.
Mr. Crawford is everywhere.
Seeing him here should be a little surprising but it isn’t.
He’s exactly who should be at an event like this. He’s who Archwell should be marking towards, since I know athletes tend to wear a lot of suits.
Him being here isn’t surprising but seeing him alone is.
From the pictures that I’ve seen online and the rumors that I’ve heard, Liam isn’t one to attend an event like this alone.
He always has someone at his side.
So seeing him here by himself nursing a drink has my interest piqued.
I have to network and he’s not currently talking to anyone so he might be a good person to start mingling with.
The man in question must be a mind reader or something because a few seconds after I decide to head over and talk to the guy, he looks up and meets my gaze.
I’ve never spoken to him. Never been anywhere within five feet of him so he doesn’t know who I am, but from the way he is looking at me, it’s as if he does.
His gaze is packed with something that I can’t pinpoint. It’s like curiosity and admiration all wrapped into one, but I’m not so sure. Whatever it is, though, it’s causing small flutters in my stomach.
Flutters that I sure as hell don’t get when I see his face on a giant billboard.
Feeling them now has to be because I know he’s famous and I’ve never made eye contact with someone famous. At least not someone who’s plastered all over town.
Besides, he has to look at everyone like that.
Right? Right, I’m not that special to warrant that kind of look.
Maybe it’s the dress.
It has to be the dress. Why else would Liam Crawford be looking at me like I’m his next meal.
Whatever it may be that is causing this serious stare down, I push it aside and make my way over to the man.
I wonder if he’s this intense up close as he is from across the room.
He must be because his gaze doesn’t waiver as I make my way over to him. We both watch each other, and unlike what I’ve experienced from most men tonight, his eyes stay on my face and don’t move down my body.
His eyes stay on my face, mine stay on his. I try to register as many details about him that I can but it’s a little difficult with the distance between. The only thing that I can pinpoint is the fact that he has tattoos covering both of his hands.
In all the pictures that I’ve seen of this man, I never noticed he had hand tattoos.
There is something definitely sexy about that, especially while he’s wearing a tuxedo.
Great, I just thought that the guy I’m about to approach was sexy. It’s not a lie but it’s definitely not something that I should be thinking about.
Feeling a bit awkward, I throw a small smile in his direction, expecting for him to just continue to stare at me but he doesn’t.
A closed lip smile forms on his face in return. He looks almost boyish wearing that smile instead of the professional hockey player with hand tattoos that he is.
I like it. Maybe a little more than I actually should.
Pushing down the feeling of wanting to see this guy smile some more, I continue my path toward him. I’m a few feet away though, when someone else comes into my line of sight and stops me in my tracks.
“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t see you there.” I say to the older gentleman I bumped into, even though he walked in front of me.
“It’s alright,” he says with a head nod as if it was truly my fault he stepped in front of me. “You’re one of the ballet girls that was on stage earlier, aren’t you?”
I give the older man a smile. “I am.”
“I thought so. You were great.”
My smile grows slightly bigger. “Thank you. I’m glad that you liked the show.”
He gives me a curt nod. “Absolutely. I do have one question. Do you do private performances?”
Umm. What?
“Private performances?” I ask as I feel my eyebrows bunching up. I try to keep a smile on my face but I have no idea if I’m failing or not.
Is he asking what I think he’s asking?
There is no fucking way. I have to be imagining this conversation or something.
“Yes, private performances,” he states. “I have a poker night for me and a few friends once a month and I would love to add some entertainment to it. Given your dancing skills, I think that you would be perfect for what I’m thinking.”
Perfect for what he’s thinking.
So many images run through my head at what that could be. Especially given that it would be for a poker night filled with men. At least I think it's men.
For all I know, he’s thinking about having me at one of his poker games in my leotard, dancing around and having me strip for him and his friends.
I’m not a strip ballerina, even though the idea does seem like a good idea with someone I’m seeing, but definitely not with a group of men I know nothing about.
Red flags everywhere.
I give the guy the sweetest customer service smile that I can muster. “Unfortunately, I’m not allowed to do any performance not put on by the dance company, per my contract. I’m sorry.”
That’s a complete lie, but he doesn’t know that.
“I’ll pay you whatever your contract is for you to do it.” He offers, his face stoic.
Enticing, but no.
I’m about to tell this man no once again, but I’m stopped when a figure approaches us.
My eyes go slightly wide at the person who just joined us.
Liam Crawford.
He is a lot bigger up close than he is across the room or even on a TV screen. Definitely not as big as the billboards I have seen him on, though.
What is he doing over here?
“Can we help you with something?” The older man’s voice takes me out the small cloud that having Liam closed by is putting me in.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt.” Liam tells the man, turning slightly to give him a gleaming smile before turning his attention to me. “I was just wondering if I can borrow my girlfriend for a bit. I have yet to congratulate her on her performance tonight.”
If I was drinking my wine right about now, it would be all over the old man’s fancy suit.
Girlfriend?
Did he just call me his girlfriend ?
I’m not hearing things, am I?
From the wink he throws in my direction, I certainly heard him correctly.
He must have seen how awkward my interaction with this guy was and decided to step in.
He’s pretending, and the wink he threw in my direction was him asking me to play along.
I’m here for it.
I wipe whatever surprised expression is on my face and give Liam a bright smile.
“You did promise me a deep dish pizza if I was able to take your breath away.” I say, fluttering my eyelashes at him for effect.
Liam lets out a chuckle and gives me a nod. “I did and since you took more than just my breath away, I think I owe you the whole pie.”
The butterflies I was feeling a few minutes ago, are back and a hell of a lot stronger.
Not only are the butterflies in full effect, but I can also feel a blush creep up my cheeks.
For a second I get lost in his gaze, one that I’m positive he uses on everyone, before I remember we have company.
I move my smile from Liam to the older gentleman and give him a nod. “I do apologize about not being able to accept your offer. I hope you find someone.” I say as politely as I possibly can. “Have a great rest of your night.”
At the last few words, Liam holds out a hand for me to take and without question, I place my hand in his.
The second my hand is wrapped around his, I have the feeling of normalcy swimming through me. A feeling that I definitely shouldn’t feel with a complete stranger.
We both give the older guy one final smile, before Liam pulls me away and walks us over to a door that leads us to a second ball room the theater has to offer. Thankfully, it’s empty.
The second we’re behind closed doors, Liam drops my hand. I don’t know why, but the second that my skin isn’t touching his, I miss it.
I push that feeling aside and give this practical stranger a smile.
“Thank you for saving me,” I say through a small laugh feeling awkward.
Liam matches it. “You looked a little uncomfortable from where I was standing, so I walked over there to see if you needed some rescuing. Then I heard his offer and wanted to rescue for real.”
“Well, I appreciate it. I don’t want to know what else he would have proposed.”
We both let out a small laugh, and then we go silent, just looking at each other with smiles on our faces.
After what feels like a long minute or two, I shake my head and nod toward the party.
“I should get back in there.” I tell him, not wanting to leave but turning to do so anyway.
Liam doesn’t say anything until my hand is close to wrapping around the doorknob.
“Or you can let me buy you that deep dish.”
I turn to find him looking at me, standing in a relaxed stance with his hands in his pant pockets.
“And why would you want to do that?” I ask, curiously.
Liam shrugs, throwing yet another boyish grin in my direction. “I wasn’t lying when I said you took more than my breath away during your performance. Seems fitting that I repay you.”
“Shouldn’t you know my name first before you buy me pizza?”
The smile he wears grows and he closes the distance between us and holds out a hand. “Hi, I’m Liam and I was captivated by your performance tonight. Every damn minute of it.”
I might have blushed earlier but that blush sure as hell won’t compare to the one that is currently coating my checks. There is no doubt that my face is red beyond belief with his words.
Not wanting to waste any time, placing my hand back in his.
“Hi, Liam. I’m Chloe and I will love to take you up on that deep dish offer.”