He snorted into a laugh at the table, as Danny ranted in reaction. When there's no smallest bit of regret for having a reason to rub his hand on Danny's shirt. To watch the disbelief and disgust color his face, without one tiny bit of surprise. When it easy to just smile too much, and watch how his new opponent even chooses to view the table. Like it's mental chess match as much as pool.

His shoulders looser than in the while, when he's reaching up to rub at his neck while listening to Danny disdain the whole thing

Steve flicked a highly pointed, amused and highly disbelieving look at him, before he was tipping forward, leaning on the edge of the table, hands wrapping against bumper edges, without touching balls, leaning across a good bit of the table, and commenting back to Lani. Which might as well be like he's saying it directly to Danny, right?

They were often following and weaving into and out of each other's conversations,"Don't listen to him. That's all lies. He loves it."

Yeah, okay. So he can't really miss the way she's not focusing on her shot even a bit as he's demanding her attention with his half-lowered mock-secretive phrasing, but he still does glance at Danny twice while referencing him. When he can't help it. The challenging quirk of his eyebrows. Deny him. Tell him he's wrong. He'll still be right. Especially when Danny is fighting to keep this life, job, maybe even this.

Besides he'll win either way still. Even if Danny rolls into a rant about it over this suddenly.

Probably this game, without too much effort, when the short is distracted and goes off the wrong direction.