The Money Maker

Chapter 5

Liam doesn't talk to Zayn after the photoshoot.

Not except for the texts. Logistical texts, texts like 'how long are we visiting', 'how are we getting there', and 'what are your parents' names'–and Liam has to stop himself, keep the responses simple. He looks at the text, smiles. Puts his phone down.

Lets out a little breath, distracts himself by cooking, watching a show, anything to stall for a bit of time so it doesn't seem like he's just sitting by his phone, waiting for another text (he is).

And then he responds back as nonchalantly as he can, trying not to let it show that his only thoughts all weekend have been echoes of I'm bringing him to meet my parents.

He hasn't done that in years.

Him.

—

Liam's never felt his parents lived particularly far from him.

That is, until he's seated next to Zayn.

On a silent car ride, fifteen minutes in with no end in sight until Liam realizes suddenly with a start: he has a radio. Reaching for the knob, his finger hits the button as he hears a sudden noise from Zayn, a jumble of words coming from the passenger seat.

"What?" Liam asks as he quickly taps off the radio again, looking back at the road momentarily before flicking his eyes to Zayn.

"Uhh," Zayn mutters, hand finding the back of his neck, a look of chagrin painted on his face. "It's not that important," he admits, eyes falling to the floor of the Subaru.

Liam doesn't say anything, instead giving him a little smile, a small nod, before bringing his eyes back to the road. Zayn asks quietly, "Does your dad still have that tie?"

Liam blinks, his head darting over to Zayn as he begins to process the words.

"Sorry?" He must have heard that sentence completely wrong. Why would Zayn—

"That zombie tie, yeah?" Zayn says, his voice barely coming out at this point.

"I told you it was stupid," he continues in a huff. Clearing his throat, he looks out the window as his teeth find his bottom lip. "Never mind."

"Believe it or not," Liam says enthusiastically, raising his finger in the air dramatically to get Zayn's attention, to hopefully bring Zayn back. "He does still have it. You know why?" Liam laughs, watching happily as Zayn's worn expression shifts to a small smile.

"One Father's Day, I stuck it in a frame and called it his present. Won son of the year with that one."

Zayn chuckles, shaking his head as he rolls his eyes. "You know what? You were a little shit."

Liam's eyes widen at the unexpected comment, the giggle falling from his lips as he teases with a poke in the arm, "Yeah, maybe, but you love it."

The words leave his mouth before he can realize what he's just said, the incidental flirting that (apparently) Liam can't stop himself from, at least not when it comes to Zayn.

"Err" is the only sound that comes out next. Liam sighs as the realization hits him: that maybe, just maybe, this weekend is going to be a bit harder than he's expected. "Just don't bring it up to my dad, yeah? He's still a bit sore on the whole thing."

"Of course," Zayn says, nodding as he catches Liam's eye with a shy smile before letting his gaze wander back out the window.

Then, not knowing quite what else to do, Liam's hand settles on the radio button again. He lets the music fill the empty space before placing his hand back on the steering wheel with an exhale.