2

The bourbon arrived moments later, sliding across the polished wood with a soft clink. Liam wrapped his fingers around the glass, cool against his skin, and lifted it with slow precision. His eyes didn’t leave the amber liquid as he took a deliberate sip, savoring the burn, the pause, the space it gave him to collect the edges of the day.

Daniel watched from the side, cradling his own glass, the low light casting shadows that made his sharp features all the more compelling. He didn’t rush. He didn’t fill the silence with meaningless words. Instead, he waited, patient and steady, as if knowing exactly when to lean in and when to let the moment unfold on its own.

His gaze drifted back to Liam, slow and appraising, as if deciding where to start. Fingers traced the rim of his glass with a casual rhythm, savoring the tension hanging between them like a promise.

“So, Liam,” he said finally, drawing the name out like tasting something rare, “is this how you usually unwind? Quiet and unreadable?”

Liam’s lips curled just slightly, a faint smile touching one corner. “Maybe I like keeping people guessing.”

Daniel shifted, leaning in enough to brush his shoulder. A touch casual enough to deny if asked. “Then I guess I’m up for the challenge.”

The space between them tightened. Electric but light, like held breath. Liam took another sip of bourbon, eyes never straying from Daniel’s.

“You don’t seem like the chasing type,” Liam remarked.

Daniel’s voice dropped, smooth and certain. “I’m not. I prefer to attract.”

There was confidence in his words. Not arrogance, but the quiet assurance of someone who knew exactly what doors a look could open. Liam found himself intrigued, despite every warning bell sounding faintly in the back of his mind. Their conversation flowed, each sentence a flirtation cloaked as casual talk, every glance lingering just long enough, every smile a silent dare.

Liam twirled the straw in his glass, slow and deliberate, eyes locked on Daniel’s.

“Are you always this charming?” he asked, dry tone masking a gleam in his eyes.

“Only when I’m trying to get someone to come home with me,” Daniel said, leaning on the bar so their elbows brushed.

Liam arched a brow, tilting his head. “Not very subtle.”

Daniel’s voice dipped a shade lower. “Subtlety is for people who aren’t sure what they want.”

A quiet laugh escaped Liam. “And what is it you want?”

Daniel’s fingers grazed Liam’s wrist. Just a whisper of contact, but enough to catch Liam’s breath. “You. Tonight. Not forever. Just tonight.”

Liam’s laugh was soft and dangerous. Like a warning wrapped in velvet. “Sounds like the start of a very bad idea.”

“Or the best one,” Daniel said smoothly.

Their knees bumped under the bar. Once, then again. Neither moved away. The contact was subtle but charged, a silent agreement sealed without words. Liam’s fingers tapped the rim of his glass, then traced the stem, deliberate and sensual. Daniel watched as if every movement was a private show unraveling just for him.

“Tell me,” Liam said, voice low and playful, “do you always make it your mission to seduce strangers in dimly lit bars?”

Daniel smiled, lazy and lethal. “Only the beautiful ones. And the ones who stare at me like they already know what my hands would feel like on their skin.”

Liam stilled. His eyes flicked down to Daniel’s open collar, the curve of his chest, the warmth beneath the fabric. Then climbed back up, settling on Daniel’s mouth.

“Which one am I?” he murmured, voice thick with interest.

Daniel’s smile deepened. “Both. But you already knew that.”

Liam didn’t look away. “You’re awfully confident.”

“I have been right more times than I can count,” Daniel said.

Liam tilted his head, lips curving in a half-challenge. “And what makes you think I would let you touch me?”

Daniel leaned in, breath warm against Liam’s ear. “Because you’re already thinking about it. The way your eyes drop to my hands, the way you lean in when I talk, the way your thigh presses against mine and stays.”

Liam said nothing, but his silence spoke volumes.

Daniel’s hand slid beneath the bar, bold and unhurried, settling just above Liam’s knee. His fingers teased the fabric there, a slow glide up his thigh. Firm enough to be felt, light enough to keep Liam guessing. Liam’s breath caught sharply, but he didn’t pull away.

Daniel’s lips brushed the shell of Liam’s ear, barely a touch, sending a shiver down his spine.

“Say the word,” he murmured, voice low and hot, “and I will show you exactly how good this can feel.” His fingers tightened just slightly, a promise written in pressure and heat. “And don’t pretend you haven’t already said yes with every look tonight.”

“Yes,” Liam breathed.

The word slipped out before he could think it through. Raw, instinctive. His pulse thundered, skin flushed and hypersensitive, but he didn’t care. He looked Daniel in the eye, dark and unguarded, and let the moment pull him under.

Daniel's smile turned wicked, just shy of a smirk, but all heat. His hand lingered on Liam’s thigh, thumb tracing slow, suggestive circles. Liam’s skin prickled beneath the fabric, nerves sparking like flint to kindling.

“Finish your drink,” Daniel said softly, almost lazily, like he had all night. “Unless you would rather not waste time.”

Liam raised the bourbon to his lips, downed the last of it in one smooth swallow. The burn was cleaner now, sharper, no longer about forgetting but about sharpening everything that was about to happen.

Daniel took that as his answer. He slid off his stool and waited, cool and confident, giving Liam just a moment to back out. He didn’t. He stood, adjusted his jacket, and followed. No words needed.

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