"Mateo," Liam says, leaning forward, "let's see those pictures from the gay bar. We don't really need evidence of the…" He pauses, lips twitching like he's carefully choosing his words. "Other incident you mentioned."
Mateo doesn't hesitate. He pulls out his phone, swipes a few times, and holds up the screen so Liam can scroll through the incriminating shots. Liam studies them with a sharp eye, nodding slightly to himself.
And then, of course, Michael speaks. His gaze lands squarely on me, sharp enough to make me shift uncomfortably in my seat. "So, how did you two meet?"
"Oh, um… w-we go to the same school," I stammer, hating the way my voice wobbles. Why is it that everything about this man makes me feel like I'm sitting at the kids' table? He radiates confidence, polish, that unbearable better than you energy.
