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Grabbing the pool cue Olive offered, I chuckled.
“Just try to give him a little run for his money,” Olive said and shot me a playful wink. “His head is getting big from being able to beat me, Sloane, and Dove at pool.”
I laughed and ruffled his hair. “Oh, is that so?” I said, egging him on. “Well, rack ‘em up, Rocky, and let me show you what I like to do after work.”
Rocky raised an eyebrow. “After work?” he asked, curiosity piqued.
“Yeah,” I replied with a grin. “I work at a bar, and when we shut down, I like to play a few games of pool to wind down.”
“Yes!” Olive cheered. “You are so going down, buddy!”
As Rocky racked up the balls, he continued to talk trash about beating me, but I was too distracted by Yarder’s intense gaze to focus.
Glancing back at Yarder, I couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something more to his non-answer about watching a movie with me tonight. Was he just being cautious, or was there a deeper reason behind his reluctance to open up?
Lost in my thoughts, I lined up my shot, focusing on the cue ball with laser precision. With a confident stroke, I sent it rolling across the table, the satisfying thud as it collided with the colored ball echoing in the room. But to my dismay, along with the intended ball, the cue ball also found its way into the pocket.
“Uh, you’re not supposed to get the white ball in the pocket,” Rocky laughed, a smirk playing on his lips.
I chuckled sheepishly, feeling a flush of embarrassment creeping up my cheeks. “So, maybe I’m a ringer, but I’m good,” I retorted, trying to salvage some semblance of dignity.
“Just need to warm up, huh?” Rocky drawled teasingly, retrieving the misplaced cue ball from the pocket and taking his position at the table. “Well, let me show you how it’s done.”
“Yeah, yeah, I’ll just watch and learn,” I teased back, unable to suppress a grin.
Thankfully, Rocky’s boasting didn’t translate into success, as he failed to sink any balls on his turn. Instead, he set me up perfectly for my next shot, and I seized the opportunity, sinking the seven ball and proceeding to pocket three more balls in quick succession.
“This is perfect,” Olive laughed.
“Mom,” Rocky moaned. “You’re supposed to be on my side.”
Olive put her arm around Rocky’s shoulders and squeezed. “Well, I am on your side, sweetie, but I think it’s time you learn a little humility. You’ve been winning and winning, so now it’s time to see what it’s like not always to be the winner.”
“Whoa, whoa,” I laughed. “I’ve sunk four balls. Let’s not put the cart before the horse.” I could very well blow this whole thing.
I lined up my next shot and thankfully sunk another ball.
Rocky and I went back and forth for a few shots before there was only the eight ball left for me.
Feeling the pressure mounting, I took a deep breath, blocking out Rocky’s muttered words of doubt. Typical boy, I thought, rolling my eyes inwardly as I focused on the task at hand.
With a steady hand, I aimed at the eight ball, my heart pounding in my chest. As I took my shot, time seemed to slow down, every movement deliberate and calculated. The cue ball struck the eight ball with precision, sending it rolling across the felt-covered surface of the table. And then, as if in slow motion, the eight ball found its mark, disappearing into the pocket with a satisfying clack.
Olive jumped up from her seat, cheering loudly in celebration of my victory. Rocky, though visibly disappointed, couldn’t help but crack a smile as he snapped his fingers in acknowledgment of my skill. “I want a rematch,” he called out, his competitive spirit undiminished despite his defeat.
Turning to face the room, a triumphant smile spread across my face. But it wasn’t until my eyes met Yarder’s gaze that my heart skipped a beat. He was still seated at the bar, a sexy smile playing on his lips as he raised his beer in salute to me.
Returning his gesture with a nod and a playful curtsy, I couldn’t help but wonder what the rest of the night held in store. Olive’s genuine happiness and Rocky’s eagerness for a rematch paled in comparison to the excitement that bubbled within me at the prospect of spending more time with Yarder. If he took me up on my offer to watch a movie later, who knew what the night would bring?
Yarder
Yeah, there was something about Poppy.
Something that drew me to her like a moth to a flame.
If she was close, I needed to be near her.
I wasn’t going to fight it.
