Page 160 of Face Off

Briggs looked offended. “I would be incredible at choreography.”

“You walk into doorframes,” Rider said.

“Doorframes should accommodate professional athletes.”

Easton slid a drink toward me. “Drink.”

I looked at him. “This feels like a question.”

“It’s mezcal and soda with lime.”

“You’re hovering.”

“I’m standing.”

“Too close.”

Rider moved several feet away without being asked.

I pointed toward him. “See? Rider respects boundaries.”

“I respect distance. Your clothes remain offensive from here.”

“You’re all dressed like yacht bro’s who left a circle jerk where nobody finished.”

Easton leaned against the bar. “You ignored the dress code.”

“I’m wearing the shirt.”

“With jeans and a backward hat.”

“I’ve spent two days dressed like Easter assaulted a country club. Tonight, I needed to look in the mirror and recognize the motherfucker staring back.”

The amusement eased from Easton’s face.

Briggs took a slow drink. “Did you?”

“Yeah.”

None of them asked why that mattered. They knew me well enough to understand.

I picked up the drink Easton gave me and took a swallow. Mezcal burned beneath the lime while my attention moved toward the entrance again.

Charm still hadn’t appeared.

Easton followed my gaze. “You disappeared.”

“I changed.”

“I meant with Charm.”

“She needed to change too.”

Briggs leaned closer and sniffed me like a fucking creep. “He showered.”

“Thank you, detective.”

“I’m establishing facts.”