Tronnor in Anaheim

Chapter Six

Connor 

I didn't notice him until Tyler called out a greeting. Which was unusual, because all I had done today was goddamn notice him. 

There was a small stone in my heart that dropped into the pit of my stomach every time I saw him. I could feel it there now, hot, heavy, making me slightly dizzy with a combination of nerves and lust that I couldn't tone down. It was ridiculous how I had to avert my eyes and pretend I wasn't entirely invested in the way he strode over to our little group, positioned in a circle in the middle of the dance floor. 

But when he paused in front of me, I had to look up. 

My breath caught in my throat. I hated myself for that. 

His eyes were always the first thing I noticed. A warm blue that twinkled as they caught the lights, the way they crinkled up at the edges when he smiled like he was doing now. He dressed down for the party, in jeans and his favorite hipster t-shirt. I wasn't the only one who wore long sleeves during the summertime, thank god for Troye.

"Hey," he said in greeting, and then pulled me into a characteristic hug. I tensed for a second, very aware of the crowd were in, before relaxing into his arms.

"Hi," I said, purposefully inflicting peppiness into my voice.

Over the last few months, I had mastered the art of faking happiness. 

"You ok?" he whispered into my ear, the result of my embarrasing confession in his hotel room this morning, and later at the pool. Maybe he knew I hadn't told him everything. Or maybe he bought into this whole act, and just thought I was still shaken from leaving O2L. 

"Yeah, fine," I whispered back, not giving my voice the chance to crack. 

"Good," he said in a normal voice, pulling away. My hands lingered on his hips and second longer than they should've, and I wanted to curse at myself as I plucked them away, stuffing them into my pockets. 

"So what happened with your meeting?" Tyler inquired, obviously feeling chatty with a few drinks in him already.

We had spent the last thirty minutes waiting for the DJ to show up since he was running late. By the time he arrived we spent $40 on various drinks between the three of us. Tyler had downed two whiskey sours, Korey was near the bottom of his first beer, and I had two tequila shots in succession at Tyler's urging. He had noticed something about me was off, but didn't broach the subject, perhaps at the risk of upsetting me. 

I loved him for that. 

"Basically all our information was invalidated. Apparently-" Troye's accent becoming more pronounced as he grew agitated- "the dude who was in charge of my meetups had some kind of emergency. We had to fill out everything for the second time. But now I'm free, and I've never been happier." 

"What a shitty situation," Tyler said. 

"Yeah, you missed a great dinner," I groaned playfully. At Troye's questioning look, my throat went dry. Korey jumped in before my lack of response became obvious. 

"We were planning on heading to Bubba Gump's like before: the reservations were made and everything. By then we knew you weren't coming, so we were just gonna have one empty seat. But then Ross called me asking if I wanted to go to dinner, and, like, I wasn't going to just say no. I mean, have you seen him?" 

"Wow, what's it like to be Ross' bitch?" Tyler giggled, jabbing Korey in the stomach. 

"Anyway," he continued, raising his voice over the inturruption. "I had to back out, because clearly, Ross is a priority. I only see him a few times a year, since he lives in Anaheim. He hates driving down to WeHo. He's fucking hot and he wanted to go out drinking with me. And since you weren't coming, no offense, but I had no reason to stay."