Page 244 of The Lies We Play

I kiss her slowly at first because if I don’t, I’ll rush. I know myself. I know what wanting her does to my control. Her lips are soft, her breath uneven, and the first small sound she makes me lands somewhere deep enough to hurt. She presses closer, breasts against my chest, one hand sliding into my hair, the other gripping the back of my neck like she’s making sure I stay exactly where she asked me to be.

I will.

That is the first truth of the night.

I will stay anywhere she puts me.

Halston, on her other side, hasn’t moved.

I can feel him there, even without looking. That is how it is with Hal. He can go still enough to make a room nervous. Watchful. Patient in a way that is never passive. He is waiting for the shift, for the invitation, for the moment where stepping forward becomes care instead of intrusion.

I kiss Liv until I feel her exhale against my mouth.

Until her shoulders lower.

Until the bright, overworked part of her starts to loosen its grip.

Then I pull back.

Just enough.

Her eyes open, dazed and suspiciously wet, as if pleasure has inconvenienced her schedule.

I look at her.

Then I look past her at him.

“Hal.”

His answer is immediate. “Yes?”

That does something to me.

Not the word. The readiness in it.

I say, “Come here.”

He steps in.

Halston closes the distance with that contained intensity that makes my skin heat even before he touches anyone. His eyes move over Liv first, checking her face, her breath, her posture. His hand settles on the small of Liv’s back, low, palm flat. The same place I have touched her at three different black-tie events where we gave the public the version they were allowed to understand. Friends. My plus one because she’s nice enough not to let me go alone. Halston somewhere near us, quiet and impossible to define, wearing a suit like armor and watching every person who got too close to what was ours.

His palm spreads over her bare skin, and Liv closes her eyes.

That is the second truth of the night.

She’s still ours.

His other hand finds her jaw.

He turns her face toward him with small, precise care and kisses her.

I watch.

I always watch because it makes me feel full in a way that is difficult to survive. There are things I never knew I wanted until I saw them together. Liv’s mouth softening under his. Halston’s control cracking one breath at a time. Her hand leaving my neck to grip his wrist, not to stop him, to keep him there.

They kiss like they are arguing without words.

Liv gives first, then takes it back. Halston lets her, then deepens the kiss just enough to make her fingers tighten. His thumb strokes once along her jaw, and she makes a sound between us—small, helpless, furious with herself for making it.