Page 218 of Burning Daylight

“Maybe I’ll start a theater company. Or a coffee shop. Or…a theater companyinsidea coffee shop.”

Felicity snorts into her wine. “You could call itBard & Beans.”

“Yes!” Alex snaps his fingers, eyes lighting up.

He grabs her face, pressing a quick kiss to her lips.

They both freeze, Felicity’s eyes going wide.

Juliette stiffens underneath me.

I smirk, leaning back, enjoying that for once, the drama isn’t concerning us.

Before anyone can adjust to the very clear shift in the air, a shadow falls over the table.

Lance.

He’s been making more of an effort lately, especially since Juliette is around the HillPoint now, living with me, but their relationship is still tense. He’s cagey, and disappears for days, and then shows back up and acts like nothing’s wrong.

He’s wearing all black, rain from outside speckled across his shoulders, and his expression is unreadable and calm in that unnerving way only Lance can manage.

Still, when his eyes meet mine, he gives a jerk of his chin. There’s an unspoken bond between the two of us, ever since we saved Juliette.

Merrick glides around him with a fresh round of drinks, and slips in the booth next to Juliette, raising a brow toward Lance. “Well, well, look what the dark and broody wind blew in.”

“You just missed Alex’s midlife crisis,” Juliette chimes.

“Tragic,” Lance mutters, plopping down next to Alex, squishing him closer to Felicity. “Was he crying again?”

“Almost,” I say.

Alex huffs and points his glass at no one in particular. “Epictetus would say true strength is mastering your emotions, not being ruled by them.” He pauses and then adds, “Which is why I’m only crying on the inside.”

Felicity rolls her eyes. “Would he also say you’re a drag?”

He frowns at her. “That’s hurtful.”

“Philosophy isboring. I prefer it when you’re acting out lines from something fun.”

Across the bar, someone laughs. It’s warm and melodic, and Lance’s eyes flick toward the source like a moth to a light.

Genevieve.

He doesn’t say a word, and when I glance around the table, nobody else is paying him any mind.

But I see it. Because I’vefeltit.

The twitch in his jaw.

The way his fingers curl like he’s holding himself back.

The way his gaze lingers too long before he forces himself to turn away like it didn’t mean anything.

He looks at me now, maybe recognizing I’m the only one who noticed whatever the hellthatwas.

I raise a brow, and he frowns before he looks away from me, too.

And just like that, whatever tension was pressing at the edges of the room dissipates, folded back into the warm haze of clinking glasses and laughter.