Take My Heart (Liam Payne)

Chapter 2: Take This Dance

Take This Dance

The after party was in full swing at Chaplin. I’d won 2 of my 3 awards tonight. Jeff and I won best on-screen chemistry while I won best actress. Michael Cera and Jenna Tress beat us for Best Off-screen chemistry, and I was happy for the two, but Ed and I were clearly cuter. Michael and Jenna have denied rumors of dating, but Ed and I haven’t yet. For all the public knows, we could be dating, and they just hurt our ego.

The public is selfish. This is why Teens shouldn’t get the choice to vote. I mean, we were clearly cuter. You know what, whatever. I’m here with Noel and Jeff, and we’re going to-

Noel and Jeff. Where did they wander off to? I could’ve sworn they were just on the dance floor. No. You know what? I bet they’re getting drunk. They’re going to end the night at each other’s place just like every time we go clubbing. Great, just great.

As I was looking around for my most likely hammered friends, I noticed a group of 5 boys laughing together at a table. They were all drinking, so I guess Niall learned his lesson about getting his friends to get drinks for him. We wouldn’t want a repeat of the last time he tried to buy.

Looking at the boy band, I realized how badly I actually wanted to hang out with them. It’d been a solid month and a half since I’d had a proper conversation with the lot of them. In fact, the last time –minus at the award show –that I’d talked to them was when I said it’d be best if we separated ways.

I should’ve been making my way over to the group and catching up on how things were. I actually almost started going towards them, but my eyes landed on Liam’s face as he laughed at something Louis was telling him.

There was no denying that Liam Payne was attractive. It’s part of why he was so desired. Yes he’s talented as all hell, but there was something about the way he presented himself that was truly an attractive quality. But his attraction was the problem.

Maybe it was dumb of me to make that bet with Ed, but let’s be honest here: I’ve controlled my hormones for 18 –almost 19 –years now. Some bubblegum pop star isn’t going to ruin that streak for me.

Ignoring the desire to go and spend time with the boys, I made my way to another British pop star that I was glad to call my friend. He may have made a bet against me, but I was still going to marry him, so I might as well get a dance with him.

“Can I have this dance?” I asked as I approached Ed at the bar.

“I thought you’d want to reunite with your boy band.” He cocked his eyebrow at me, placing whatever beer he was holding behind him.

I rolled my eyes at him. “None of them compare to my ginger dream.”

“Or does one of them beat me out,” he started, looking towards the table that One Direction was occupying. “And you want to avoid him?”

“Wow,” I deadpanned back to him, feigning hurt “I just wanted a dance, not a psychosomatic review.”

“You can’t play this by ignoring Liam,” he changed the subject, but kind of stayed on subject.

“I can and I will.”

“The point is that you can control your hormones for 2 months,” Ed explained, speaking slowly like I was a dumb child. “Not that you can avoid him for 2 months.”

I again rolled my eyes at the older Brit. “They correlate with each other, don’t they?”

“Not at all, love.” Ugh. There he goes, calling me love again. Is he trying to make me swoon?