Page 140 of The Lies We Play

“I don't know,” he says. “Like her?”

“What does that mean?”

“I’ve never spoken to her before,” he says, trying not to sound annoyed but failing miserably. “She asked about you before she could stop herself. I told her not to read more into it than there was. I am telling you the same.”

I close my eyes.

“Do not make that into more than it is, Creed.”

I sit again.

“Tomorrow morning, you come to my office.”

“I have practice.”

“No, you don't.”

I almost smile. “Coach will lose his mind.”

“Let him. I have dealt with worse men for less interesting reasons.”

“Fitz.”

“Creed.”

“I'm not good at waiting.”

“That is unfortunate, because right now waiting is the only thing that doesn't get someone hurt.”

The apartment hums around me. Lights. Refrigerator. Rain. City. Halston breathing through the phone an hour ago. Liv’s name was in Fitz's mouth thirty seconds ago.

The world I buried has resurrected itself.

“Okay,” I say.

The word costs more than it should.

Fitz hears it.

“Good. One more thing.”

“What?”

“Do not become useful at the expense of being careful.”

The sentence hits too close.

“You saving that one for your next client?”

“No. My husband says it to me twice a week.”

Lang says, “Three.”

Fitz sighs. “Fine, three times.”

This time, I almost laugh properly.

Almost.