Authors: Thomas Galvin
"I suppose," said Garret.
"All right! Let's ... go stand in line." Evan said.
They hardly moved for the next twenty minutes. Then, the big metal door swung open, and a small commotion started at the front of the line. Caitlin stepped to the side and craned her neck to see what was going on.
An absolute giant of a man was moving through the crowd. He was nearly seven feet tall, with brownish-red hair that reached to his stubble-covered chin. His shirt, a tight knit thing the color of midnight, was positively struggling to contain the muscles that bunched and coiled as he moved, and he wore a pair of black leather pants. He looked down at the people huddled around the door like a king looking at his subjects, and smiled beneficently. The crowd surged toward him, like gravity was pulling them forward, but no one actually touched him.
He walked down the line, smiling, occasionally saying "hello," or nodding his chin. People were calling out to him, but he never stopped to address anyone directly.
Until he got to Caitlin.
He looked at her, and for just a fraction of a second, his eyes widened. And while he continued to scan the crowd, he had stopped moving. Then, he focused directly on her.
He didn't say anything, and as the uncomfortable silence stretched on, Caitlin's face grew warm. "Um, hi," she said.
A hungry grin spread over his face. "I don't remember you ... you must be one of the new Freshmen."
Caitlin licked her lips and ground her foot into the sidewalk. She wasn't used to feeling flustered by men, but something about this guy was just ...
more.
More intense, more intimidating, more ... sensual. "Um, yeah," she managed to get out. "St. Troy University."
"Excellent. I hope you haven't been waiting here long."
"About twenty minutes," Alexis said.
The man ignored her. "I'm sorry about that," he said to Caitlin. "Someone like you never should have been kept waiting this long. I'll have to have a talk with the doormen. But for now, let's just get you inside."
"Um," Caitlin said, and looked at the people standing around her. "I mean, I don't want to make anyone mad or anything."
The man rolled his eyes. "Please. If anyone has a problem, they can take it up with me."
Caitlin looked around again. "Well, I guess. I mean, if my friends can come, too."
He looked at them like he hadn't even realized they were standing there. "Of course," he said. "Follow me."
Caitlin walked after him, and her friends followed her. "Hey, I didn't catch your name," she said.
The man turned back and smiled. "Liam."
***
The club was like a jungle. The air was so thick and so moist that you could almost swim through it, and it was at least twenty degrees hotter than it had been outside. If this was the most popular place in town, Caitlin sure couldn't understand why.
Alexis slid up next to her, and leaned over to whisper—well, shout, but it was a quiet shout—in her ear. "I think you've got a fan," she said. "He looks like he wants to
eat
you."
"Oh come on. He doesn't even know me."
"Sure, and he picked you out of everyone else in line because you look like a fantastic conversationalist. Come on, admit it, he wants to do you."
"Eew! Please. He looks like some kind of Russell Brand wannabe. I'd wake up with a rash."
"Russell Brand does not have an ass like that."
The crowd was shoulder-to-shoulder, and people had to muscle their way through. But Liam moved effortlessly. The crowd just kind of dissolved around him, like he was walking around in his own invisible bubble. Caitlin and her friends tried to keep up. Everyone turned to look at Liam, but only a few—the most attractive women in the club—dared to approach him. Liam ignored them all.
He started gesturing around the club. "We've got three dance floors and six bars. But the main attraction is upstairs ... the Blue Leaves are playing tonight."
Evan's eyes went wide. "Really? You got them to play here? Rumor is they're just about to sign a major deal."
Liam smiled. "I know. I set it up myself. They play here twice a month now." Evan gaped.
They were interrupted by a girl with fire-red hair wearing a flowing black skirt and a black corset. "Sir," she said, "you have a phone call waiting for you."
"Tell them I'm busy," Liam replied.
"It's Angelica, sir."
The expression slipped off of Liam's face. "Excuse me," he said to Caitlin. "I have to deal with this. You go and have fun. Don't worry ... I'll find you later." He turned and left, melting through the crowd.
Something about Liam bothered her. It wasn't his "oh look at me I'm a rock star" persona, or the way he was showing off. There was something deeper that just wasn't quite right. But Caitlin tried to shrug off her discomfort. "Well, what do you guys want to do?" She asked.
"Well, we could stand here in the middle of a sea of hot, sweaty people," Evan said, "
or
we could go upstairs and check out the best band in Maine."
They fought their way through the crowd and to the stairs; the girls had to grab on to each other to keep from being separated. The entire top floor was set up for the concert. It was standing room only, and the crowd was full of energy, moving and jumping along with the music. It was even hotter up there, and Caitlin almost felt claustrophobic. But the music grabbed a hold of her, and before long she was moving with the beat.
Some guys wearing St. Troy jerseys waved at Evan. "Hey, come on, guys," he said. "Those guys are on my team." They pushed through the crowd, and Evan did the hand-grab-back-slap-and-man-hug thing with his teammates.
"Nice of you to show up!" one of the guys shouted.
"Eat me," Evan yelled back. "It took forever just to get in the door. We'd still be out there if the manager didn't want to get in Caitlin's pants."
Caitlin blushed, and Alexis' face split into a wide grin. "See? Told you so. Even he noticed it!"
They settled in to watch the show. Garret leaned against the wall, and Bethany leaned against
him
. Alexis was, of course, a little more forward, and worked her way under Evan's arm, and was slowly running her hand across his stomach.
The Blue Leaves came to a slower part in their set, and the crowd settled down a bit. Slow, soft music filtered through the room, and the lights became a glacial mix of blue and white. Caitlin closed her eyes and let it all wash over her.
"God, does
everyone
in this club want to sleep with you?"
Caitlin blinked, and found Alexis staring at her. "What?" Caitlin asked.
"Look at that guy over there. He is clearly trying to impregnate you with his eyeballs."
Caitlin followed Alexis' pointing finger, and gasped.
He was beautiful. Tall, more than six feet, lean and muscular. Like he was a swimmer, or a dancer. He was dressed in a tight black shirt and jeans that must have cost a hundred dollars. His hair was dark brown, streaked with golden highlights, and wild. His jaw was strong, and his cheekbones were like razors.
But it was his eyes ... God, his
eyes.
They were a piercing blue, as deep and clear as the ocean, and they caught the light like gemstones. She knew that it was totally cliché, but Caitlin felt like she was losing herself in those eyes.
And he was staring right at her.
His expression was hard to read. His face was almost blank, except for a slight set to his mouth, and a small crinkle around his mesmerizing eyes. It was simultaneously distant and intimate, playful and sad.
"Who
is
that?" she asked no one in particular.
One of Evan's friends looked over. "He's ... I forget his name, but he owns this place or something."
"Well," Alexis said. "Go over and talk to him."
Caitlin felt her legs moving. Her admirer watched her cross the floor, never looking away, never even blinking.
She licked her lips and swallowed, trying to moisten a suddenly-dry throat. "Um, hi," she said. She smiled, but she could feel embarrassed heat crawling up her face. "I'm Caitlin."
She offered to shake, but instead he kissed the back of her hand. "Michael McKenna," he said. "Aren't you a bit young to be in here?"
"Hey," Caitlin said. "I'm a real live college girl. And one of your guys pulled us out of the line to bring us inside, thank you very much." His face darkened and his eyes glinted, but the look was gone almost before Caitlin could recognize it. "I think his name was Liam?" she said.
His eye twitched. "You can do better than him," he said. "He's all 'look at me, I'm wearing leather pants, aren't I awesome?' I think he's just overcompensating for something."
Huh. "So, one of my friends said you own this place?"
His eyes glinted again, and he looked around the room. "Not really. I'm kind of the manager. This is sort of a family business."
"Wait, so you and Liam are related?"
"You can't see the resemblance?" Michael said. But then he shook his head. "No, we're not related. Not exactly. It's complicated."
"Oh. So, is this all you do?" Michael cocked an eyebrow. "I mean, not that this isn't impressive and all, but are you in school or anything?"
"I was," Michael said. "Fine Arts. Portraits, mainly. I had to drop out."
"Why?"
He smiled. "I died."
"Oh my God! What happened?"
"It really isn't as exciting as it sounds. I had an accident, lost a lot of blood, and I was technically dead for a while." He gave her a smirk. "I got better. Anyway, all of this," he gestured around the club, "takes up most of my time now. I'm kind of an indentured servant."
"Oh. I mean, yeah, I guess family businesses can be like that. It probably takes a ton of work to keep something like this running."
"And what about you?" Michael asked. "Are you going to cure cancer, or are you just studying to become a hedge fund manager?"
"Oh, I'm a photography major. Actually, I'd love to take your picture some time. I mean, you probably hear this all the time, but you've got great bone structure."
He smiled. "Are you hitting on me?"
Another flush of heat. "What? No! No, I really mean it, I think you'd be a great project."
"Oh, so you want to fix me up?"
"No! I mean you'd, oh, stop it, you're just being difficult."
He gave her a brilliant smile. "I usually am."
"So what do you say? Would you be willing to sit for me some time?"
"I don't know," Michael said. "I'm not real big on having my photograph floating around."
"But you're so pretty," a man's voice said.
Caitlin and Michael turned. Liam was standing behind them, leaning against the wall with his hands in his pockets, giving them a cocky smile. "Besides, you're only going to be young for so long. Don't you want to remember what you were like in your prime?"
Michael's eyes narrowed, and his upper lip curled into an almost-snarl, but he remained silent.
"So I see you've found my guest." He looked at Caitlin. "We have the same taste in women. It can be kind of embarrassing sometimes."
"Leave her alone, Liam," Michael said.
"Oh, stop it." Liam laughed. He looked Caitlin in the eye. "He's so
protective
, like he's everybody's big brother. But you don't need protecting, do you, Caitlin? I mean, you're a big girl, aren't you?"
"I, um, yeah, of course I am."
"See?" Liam said. "She's just fine. Would you like to join us for a drink?"
"Oh, I, uh, I don't really, I mean, I have to ... drive home, and I don't want to," Caitlin stammered.
"You're so
responsible!
Then what about a tour of the club? We could even go back stage, if you want," Liam said. Michael's jaw muscles quivered.
"Oh, I'm not really the fan-girl type. Evan would probably cream himself if you introduced him to the band, though."
An annoyed look flashed across Liam's face, but his smile quickly returned. "Tell you what. If you let me give you a tour of the club, I'll take your friends back stage after the show. Deal?"
"Oh, well, sure, that would be great. But I want to be clear, I'm just going on a walk with you. There isn't going to be any hanky-panky."
Michael blinked, his anger momentarily trumped by incredulity. "Hanky-panky? Did you really just—"
"Oh, leave her alone, Michael. You're so judgmental." He turned back to Caitlin. "Shall we?"
Caitlin started to follow him, and Michael fell in step behind her.
"Oh, I'm sorry," Liam said. "I forgot to tell you. I just spoke with Angelica, and she requires your ... attention."
"I'll see her after we're done with the tour."
"She sounded kind of impatient, Michael. I'm pretty sure she wants to see you immediately."
Anger flashed through Michael's eyes. He turned to look at Caitlin, and seemed to be fighting to control his emotions. "I'm sorry," he said. "I have to go."
"Oh, that's okay," Caitlin replied. "Maybe we'll see each other again? I'd still like to do a photo shoot with you." Michael didn't respond, he just looked at her with heart-breaking eyes. "Okay, well, it was nice to meet you."
"No, it wasn't," he said, and walked away.
Caitlin stared at him until he disappeared down the stairs. "What the hell was that all about? And why was he so angry about you showing me around the club?"
Liam led her down a hallway. "That's just Michael being Michael. He's afraid that I'm going to spoil your virginal perfection or something."
"I'm not a—I mean, I'm not going to be spoiled. What does he think this is, the fifties?"
They turned down another hall, and Liam pulled open a heavy steel door. Cool night air rushed in, and Caitlin instantly felt a million times better. "Let me show you the view from the roof," Liam said.
They walked up a short flight of steps, and stepped out onto gravel. Caitlin couldn't believe how wonderful it felt to be out of the club. She hadn't even realized how much she had been sweating, but her clothing was wet and sticking to her skin. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.
"Michael is a bit old-fashioned sometimes," Liam was saying. "But I have to be honest, in this case, he might just be right."