Page 187 of The Lies We Play

I open one eye. “Like I just survived a Category Five Halston event.”

His laugh breaks against my hair, muffled and surprised.

I love making him laugh. It feels illegal,like stealing something from a locked room and getting away with it.

“You’re amazing,” he says.

“You’re insane.”

“Probably.” His mouth brushes my temple. “But I love you.”

My chest hurts from how badly I want to make a joke. Humor is easier. It lets me survive the moment without having to stand inside it.

But his hand rest on my back. His body is warm against mine. Liv’s absence is still here, not a gap anymore, but a place waiting for her. Last night I won the Cup, and this morning Halston gave me a day when I didn’t have to be anyone’s proof of anything.

I touch his face.

His eyes search mine.

“I love you too,” I say.

The words land between us and stay there.

Halston pulls me closer, not hard, not fast, just enough that my forehead rests against his collarbone and his mouth finds my hair. His fingers spread across my back, claiming nothing, keeping everything.

For once, neither of us rushes to fix the feeling.

Eventually, he says, “We should probably get cleaned up.”

“Yeah.”

I don’t move.

He doesn’t either.

The room hums around us. The city continues below the window. Somewhere across an ocean, Liv is probably walking through a museum, pretending she isn’t checking her phone every seven minutes.

I miss her so much it cuts.

I want her here.

I want Halston exactly where he is.

Both truths exist in the same breath, and for once they don’t tear at each other.

“Five more minutes,” Halston offers.

“Ten,” I counter.

His mouth curves against my skin. “You’re negotiating after sex?”

“I negotiate best when emotionally compromised.”

“Liv would disagree with that strategy.”

“Maybe, but it works for me.”

“Liv would extend the recess to fifteen—ask for more.” He laughs. “She’s never satiated.”