Double Standards // ziam

Chapter 17

Liam looked breathtakingly elegant in his raven black tuxedo, snowy shirt and formal black bow tie when Zayn answered his door that night. "You look wonderful," he said softly, unconsciously licking his lips.

Liam's own gaze moved with glinting admiration over his vivid features, over his shiny and perfectly styled hair, his gorgeous black suit with his thin black tie, he looked as if he just got animated out of a fashion magazine.

"Don't you like it?" Zayn asked self-consciously.

Liam gave him another once over appreciating how his slacks hugged his thighs perfectly.

"I love it," he said with a glint dancing in his eyes, and Zayn slightly blushed when he realized what he was referring to.

The Westin Hotel was located in downtown Detroit's magnificent Renaissance Center. In honor of the ball, a red carpet had been laid from the curb to the hotel's main entrance. Television cameras were positioned on both sides of it. As Liam's chauffeur pulled his limousine to a stop, newspaper photographers and paparazzi jostled their way to the front, their cameras raised.

A doorman stepped forward and opened the door for Zayn. When Liam followed him out of the limousine and took his elbow, flashlights exploded on both sides, and cameras tracked their progress up the red carpet.

The first person Zayn saw when they walked into the crowded ballroom was Harry. He saw them too, and he watched them approaching with a look of visible glee on his face. Yet when he put out his hand, Zayn noticed that Liam hesitated before acknowledging the greeting.

"You're back early from Chicago," Harry remarked, seemingly oblivious to his friend's cold reserve. "I wonder why?" he continued his teasing.

"You know damned well why," Liam retorted grimly.

Harry's brows lifted, but he turned his emerald, appreciative gaze on Zayn. "I'd tell you how gorgeous you look, but at the moment, Liam is already restraining the urge to knock my teeth down my throat."

"Why?" Zayn gasped, his own gaze flying to Liam's rigid face.

Harry answered with a deep chuckle. "It has something to do with two dozen red roses and a kiss he witnessed. He's forgotten about a guy I was in love with once but couldn't quite get up the nerve to ask to marry me. He got tired of waiting for me to bolster my courage, so he sent Niall two dozen-"

Liam's breath exploded in laughter. "You bastard," he said good-naturedly, and this time his handclasp was sincere.

For Zayn it was a truly magical night, a night filled with the scent of flowers, of twinkling chandeliers and glorious music. A night of dancing in Liam's arms and standing by his side while he introduced him to the people he knew-and he seemed to know everyone. People surrounded them the moment they stepped off the dance floor or paused to have a glass of champagne. It was obvious to Zayn that Liam was greatly respected and well liked, and he felt absurdly proud of him. And Liam was equally proud of him-he could see it in his warm smile when he introduced him to his acquaintances, and in the possessive way he kept his arm around his waist.

"Zayn?"

It was well after midnight. He slightly tipped his head back and smiled up at him as they danced. "Hmmm?"

"I would like to leave now." The lust in his chocolate brown eyes told Zayn why. He nodded, and without a protest let him lead him off the dance floor. He could not deny; he was excited as well.

He had just decided that this was the most perfect night of his life when a familiar voice struck panic through his whole nervous system. "Liam," Sophia Sinclair said, her voice raised slightly, her face a mask of cordiality, "It's nice to see you."