He wonders what it is he's hoping will come out of Danny's mouth, when the man hold's his gaze for a few beats before drawing up that tight smile. When he knows some of what's going on up there, but not all of it, and the muscles in the top of his stomach tense, the way they do when he's waiting for an explosion to sound. Because he's giving Danny the free reign to shove this whole thing even higher.

Except he sidesteps, sighting a decision to get out, and Steve feels himself breathe out for the first time in at least an hour. Letting him holding the air in the center as he starts shooting the pieces left on the table in a rather rapid succession trying not to part and parcel that way he'd looked back. When the warmth in his center is more like hot burning embers and less like a fire threatening to burst free.

Especiall when Danny face looks a little pained, and that's a dual edged knife and flood of warmth in his center. Because it looks like Danny thinks he gets to bow out gracefully somehow. Like they didn't come in one car, and wouldn't be leaving that way. The same way. With Danny ranting at the windshield about the newest thing to slice his skin open and pour a gallon of salt in.

When Lani's turning back to him triumphant, and he's wondering if she realizes she really hasn't asked him if he's staying.

Either time. That the assumption there was that, of course Steve would. When he probably shouldn't find a little pressing amusement in the very plain way he says, after the crack of the three, clearing the last ball from the whole table. "Actually that it's for me, too."

"Really?" There's such a surprised, up tilted, flash to a pout to that, as Lani leaned on her cue looking shocked by crestfallen.