Page 55 of The Lies We Play

He is laughing.

Livia is laughing too.

They have leaned slightly toward each other on the stools. Not close enough to be obvious. Close enough that their bodies have started making small decisions before either of them has said them out loud.

Livia sees me first.

She lifts her chin.

She doesn’t wave. She does the small, almost-imperceptible smile that is her version of waving. Her version of I’m happy you’re here.

The smile lands in my chest before I can guard against it.

Then Halston notices her noticing me.

He turns.

That is the first time I see his face from the front.

He does the math in maybe two seconds.

The math is: this is the guy she’s been texting.

His face does something interesting when the math finishes. It doesn’t close. It doesn’t sour. It settles. Almost grateful. As if he has been wondering for the last hour whether the girl he’s been having the best conversation of his month with belongs to a story he won’t be allowed inside, and then he realizes the story might have a door.

That should not hit me the way it does.

It does.

I cross the bar.

Every step toward them feels louder than the room. The lights over the bottles are too bright. The floor is sticky near the service end. Someone shouts at the TV. The bar keeps moving around us, but the space between the three of us has started to draw itself in clean lines.

I get to Livia’s stool and put my hand on the back of it.

Livia’s eyes stay on mine, bright with trouble.

“Creed,” she says, voice mock-formal. “This is Halston. Halston, this is Creed.”

Halston puts out his hand.

“Halston Saint Claire.”

I take it.

His grip is good. Warm. Precise without trying to prove anything. He holds my eyes for one beat longer than the handshake requires, and there is a small current in that extra second.

Recognition, maybe.

Or curiosity with better manners.

“Creed Lafontaine.”

“I know.” He smiles. “I’ve been told.”

“Have you?”

He glances at the screen, then back at me. “We watched you play.” His smile shifts, a little drier. “Then she told me all about you within the last forty minutes. With considerable detail.”