Page 52 of A Real Good Lie

“Jesus. You don’t mince words, do you?”

“I’m not smart enough to play the word games all your friends play.” Jace tossed the remainder of his sandwich onto the table. “I thought I was, but I’m not. I just say what I mean, what I want.”

“Do you regret last night?”

“Yes.” Jace stood up and walked toward the window, bracing himself against it and staring out at the skyline and the horizon beyond.

Callahan rubbed his chest, standing up and following Jace. He wanted to touch him, but something about the moment told him to keep his space.

“Really?” he asked.

“Yes.” Jace turned, and Callahan stumbled back, caught off-guard by the intensity and the heat of his stare. “Because I want to do it again.”

“That doesn’t sound like regret,” he rasped.

“You’re two-faced,” Jace said, holding his hand up and twisting at the wrist a few times. “And I don’t know which version of you is real.”

“I’m me,” he said, holding out his hands, palms up, not as confused by the implication of Jace’s words as he wanted to be.

“You’re different. The way you were the night at Lion, the way you were last night with me.” Jace licked his lips again. “That’s not how you acted at dinner last night. That’s not how you are around Sebastian, even.”

“I’m not sure what to say.”

“You even kiss me different.” Jace took a step toward him. “When they’re around.”

“I don’t mean to.”

“You’re lying.” Jace’s rebuke blew hot across Callahan’s mouth. “What did you want the hour for last night? To try and seduce me into bed?”

“No,” he answered, voice louder than he’d intended. “No. It wasn’t that. I just wanted a chance to…I don’t know. I wanted a do-over.”

“I thought the night we met went pretty well.”

“You left,” Callan reminded him.

“One dance. One kiss. We had both.” Jace swayed on his feet, his stare locked on Callahan. He didn’t flinch when Callahan reached for him, his fingers closing around Jace’s forearms, sliding down to his wrists. “And we had them again last night, too.”

“I like you,” he said, flexing his hold against Jace’s skin.

It was the wrong thing to say.

Jace grimaced and shook himself free of Callahan, stepping around him and going back to the couch. He bent over and picked at his sandwich, shoving a piece of bacon into his mouth and closing his eyes.

Callahan turned, resting his back against the window and folding his arms across his chest while Jace chewed.

“You don’t know me,” Jace said after he’d swallowed.

“I’d like to.”

“Callahan.” Jace sighed. “We did this already.”

“I don’t want you to regret last night. I don’t want you to regret any night you spend with me.”

“You say that as if there’s going to be more.”

“At least tonight,” he said, half in hope and half in reminder.

“Tonight is pretend.” Jace pulled his camera onto his lap and started to fiddle with it again.