Crossed Lines

4.

"Who wants to go dance?" Cate screams over the loud music and we all stand up except for Bradley who is talking to a dude named Seth, apparently, they're both lawyers at the same company. Trevor grabs my hand as he leads us to an open space on the dance floor and I grab Cate's hand.

We finally reach the dance floor and I decide not to think too much as I let go on the dance floor with Cate, we laugh like idiots as we attempt every dance move possible. Luke and Trevor look at us amused. We grab them to pull them closer, I grab Trevor and cate grabs Luke. We start swaying our bodies sexily to the music without a care in the world, the guys don't waste time in joining us as we dance close to each other without grinding on each other, only a few touches here and there on the waist, hips or arms and I have to admit, I'm enjoying myself a lot. I feel like someone is watching me but when I look around, I see nothing.

"Hey I'm just going to the bathroom really quick." I tell Cate. She wants to go with me but I tell her that it's okay and I won't be long.

I walk in the direction of the bathroom but for some reason I feel like standing outside and catching my breath for a bit. It's getting too stuffy for me in there. I see a door that says exit and I walk towards it. Luckily the door opens and I step outside.

Once I'm outside I lean against the wall and take a deep breath. It's dark out here, the only light coming from a two street lamps. I see a couple making out, and another having a heated conversation. It also smells like smoke, I realize. I hate the smell of smoke. I look around and I almost choke on my breath at what I see. I swear my blood runs cold, or hot I don't even know anymore.

Holy crap!

I look at the person and those same mesmerizing hazel brown-goldish eyes that have invaded my thoughts quite a few times already, stare intently at me, he looks deep in thought with his eyes set on me and his bottom lip trapped between his teeth. Its him!

Its Zayn.

He looks good, with his hair styled up, in a black snug jean, torn at the knees and a white button down and he left a first two buttons open revealing a bit of his tattoo. I did not picture him with tattoos at all. He's checking me out and I'm getting self-conscious at the intensity of his stare. He must've realized how unnerving his stare was because he looks away. I see where the smell came from. In his hand is a cigarette. He must've seen my disgusted face because he chuckles as he throws it on the ground, stepping on it.

"Not a fan?" he asks unexpectedly. I almost think I imagined it.

"Not really, no." he nods and I realize he's not standing too far from me. Four footsteps and I'd be next to him.

"What are you doing out here. It's not safe for a pretty woman like you." Did he just say I'm pretty? How can he be so calm and collected after saying that? My face heats up as I look away from him.

"It was getting a bit stuffy, I needed some fresh air." I look at his cigarette on the floor then add "Well almost fresh" he chuckles at that as he runs his hands through his hair. his hair looks so soft. I wonder what It would feel like to run my hands through it...

"Or you were just stalking me." he says with a smirk on his face.

"What? No I wasn't. I didn't even know you would be here." He laughs at my horrified expression then shakes his head at me.

"I'm kidding. It's just that we always seem to run into each other, everywhere." He walks over to me and he stands in front of me so that I'm between him and the wall. There's about two feet of space between us and he looks as attractive as ever.

"Yeah it's freaky actually" Would it be odd to say that I feel comfortable with him, and this is the first real conversation we've ever had? Probably.