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Chapter Three
Mia
My destination, as soon as I was locked away in my room, was the closet. I flung the door open and reached for a large black box that sat on the top shelf behind my sweaters. I took the box and made my way to the bed. I sat on the bed, caressing the outside of the box where I had placed everything that reminded me of our time together—pictures, birthday cards, jewelry, lingerie, Ziploc bags that held dried flowers.
I ran my hand across a picture of Terry and me at Moe’s bar. He was standing behind me, his arms wrapped around my waist, grinning like an idiot. I stood in front of him, holding a pool stick, the same smile on my face. Terry and I had always played pool together in that bar. In fact, that was how we met.
The box was littered with cards and poems. Terry was really good at that kind of stuff. I sometimes felt like he spent hours looking for the right poem or quote from a classic novel to put inside the blank birthday, Valentine’s Day, or anniversary card. The cards never came with poems. Terry said the blank ones were for him, awaiting his special touch.
I hadn’t touched this box in years. I always told myself I couldn’t throw any of this away. But today, I wish I had. It was all too painful to look at. I reached for the picture that was taken of us at Moe’s and sighed, remembering his favorite fingerprint.
* * *
It was a regular Thursday night. My best friend, Ally, begged me to come out with her so she could troll for something to amuse herself with. I reluctantly agreed. School was starting to get crazy. So, there I was at Moe’s, watching Ally flirt with yet another guy while I played pool.
“Excuse me, miss,” a voice behind me drawled. I turned around to see him looking from me to his feet, and back up to me. He was the most gorgeous man I had ever seen, and he looked nervous. This fact entertained me far more than it should have.
“I’m sorry, are you talking to me or your feet?” I asked him, smiling wickedly.
“Well, darlin’, you of course.” It looked like my joke, no matter how lame it was, had managed to calm him. “I was wondering if you would like to monopolize the table all by yourself tonight or if you were up for a game with some actual competition?”
I hadn’t thought of the fact that I had been taking up the table for the last two hours. “Um, I guess I could use some competition.” I sized him up and added, “Doesn’t look like you’ll be much, but sure, why not.”
He smirked at me and said, “I might not look like much, but I’ll bet I can handle you.” His brown eyes stared back into mine as if they were peering into my very soul. My eyes roamed his face, chest, and back up to his face while he grinned at me. “Honey, do you want to get a little closer so you can get a better look, or are you finished ogling me for the night?” he asked, laughing at me.
I quickly answered, “I wasn’t ogling. And, yes, let’s play some pool.”
“Oh, trust me, you were ogling me. I’m Terry, by the way,” he said, extending his hand.
“Mia,” I croaked out, barely, and reached out to him. He took my hand, pressed it to his lips, and gently kissed it. We were frozen in place, my hand in his against his full lips.
Suddenly, he released it and said, “Now that I have you totally distracted, let’s play some pool.”
I laughed to pull myself from my haze, but it didn’t seem to help much. I lost the first three games we played. My mind wasn’t in the game because my gaze was too busy running over his body. Terry was taller than me. But being barely five feet tall, it wasn’t hard to find a guy who was. He watched the table intently as he maneuvered the balls around the table with skill. I wondered what his other skills were. I smiled in spite of myself.
“What are you smiling about?”
Caught!I didn’t realize he had seen me watching him yet again. When I didn’t respond, he just smirked, ran a hand through his messy hair, and contemplated another shot. I subconsciously licked my lips and wondered what it would feel like to run my hands through his hair. It was shaggy and brown, with strategically placed blond highlights; you could tell from the condition of it that he had been running his hands through it well before our game had started. Or maybe it always looked disheveled. Maybe it always looked like he had sex hair. Sex hair—I just thought a man I barely knew had sex hair. I laughed out loud.
“Okay, now I want to know what is going on in that pretty little head of yours,” he said, interrupting my dirty thoughts. “You’ve been grinning like an idiot, not realizing how badly you’re losing this game,”
“I, um”—think fast—“um, well”—that’s not fast enough—“I was just...”
“You were staring at me and almost drooling. It’s okay, darlin’, happens all the time. Now, I do believe it’s your turn. Not that I have many balls left on the table.” He handed me the stick and moved to stand behind me, brushing his body against mine. I froze for a moment, enjoying the feel of his warm body against mine. A chill went down my spine as he leaned in and whispered, “The table is over there.”
He spent the next hour watching me and laughing as I tried to concentrate enough to actually win a game against him, which never happened. Not for lack of trying, though; he just kept finding ways to distract me—running his hands through his hair, smiling at me for no reason, finding reasons to rub up against me.
Finally, I couldn’t take the humiliation of losing to him anymore. “Okay, I’m done.”
“Just like that, huh?” he asked, smiling coyly at me.
“No, not just like that. I’ve been playing pool with you for over an hour, and I have yet to win a game. And besides, I’m a little tired. I have an early class tomorrow, so I should get going,” I informed him, ready to make my exit.
“Come here,” he said, motioning for me to come over to the pool table.
“What? No, I’m leaving.” I’d made enough of an ass out of myself for one night. It was time to call it quits.
“Just come here. I want to show you something,” he said, his crooked smile on display. It was quickly becoming my favorite of his smiles. Oh God, I’d only just met the man, knew next to nothing about him, and I had a favorite smile. “I won’t bite you unless you want me to.”
