The Money Maker

Chapter 2

If someone had told Zayn several days ago that he would be pretending to be in a relationship with Liam fucking Payne, he wouldn't have believed it. When his manager had even just brought up the idea, he'd pulled out his phone, hoping, praying that it wasn't the Liam Payne he thought. It was.

He'd hoped that maybe he'd look uglier in person.

He didn't.

And if they'd gone on to say he was taking that same Liam Payne home with him... he would've called them crazy.

And yet, here the two of them are, sprawled out in the back of the limo, the air so thick between them that Zayn can't get any breath out of his lungs. The graze of Liam's knee against Zayn's feels like fire, complete hell but, simultaneously, complete heaven. Liam had been brave back at the theater in the dark–but he knows when he's pushing his luck. And while sitting in a limo that their manager, Chris, called for them would definitely be pushing his luck.

When the two of them are quiet–not quite sure what to say, since talking about how good of a kiss that was is probably a forbidden topic–Joe, their driver, clears his throat. "Event good, you two?"

Zayn gulps, knowing full well the question's easy enough. But his mind is still in a haze, can't remember anything but Liam's body against his, Liam's tongue inside his mouth. He can't stop his eyes from darting over to Liam, hoping to get a trace of his reaction. Upon finding Liam's eyes already on him, Zayn's heart skips a beat, looking away as a blush forms.

After a moment too long, Joe's smirk well evident from the rear view mirror, Liam says smoothly, "Good, yeah."

"Just good?" Joe chuckles. "Seems like it went just a little better than good," he mumbles under his breath but doesn't press it.

Clearing his throat so as to pretend he didn't hear that last little comment there, Zayn looks out the window as he tries to remember enough of the movie to tell Joe about it. But every scene of the movie in his head is interwoven with snapshots of Liam's expression, his little movements that Zayn had felt against him all too well.

"Great movie" Zayn finally decides to say, knowing it's a poor excuse for a response but it'll–apparently–have to suffice.

The rest of the ride feels like hours, but in all reality it probably only lasts ten minutes, with Liam mumbling something once about the weather outside. What did they usually talk about when they were on their car rides together? Did they talk at all? Zayn can't seem to remember past thirty minutes ago, let alone days.

The first stop is, as always, Zayn's house.

"Hey, man," Liam gulps, knowing how fast Joe's BS radar is gonna go off when he hears Liam's next words. But he says them anyway, speaking them all in one breath. "You can drop me off here."

Joe's eyebrows shoot up, but he doesn't say anything. He sighs. "Here?" Is all he asks in a deadpan voice.

"Yeah, it's a nice evening for a walk." They both know he's lying through his teeth but Joe doesn't comment further.

"Have a nice night, guys" is all he says as the two of them pull open their doors. He knows full well his job as a driver is to stay in his own lane–both physically and metaphorically.

Zayn's hands fumble with his keys, can't get them in the door fast enough as he feels Liam's body rut against him, his hot breath falling on his neck.