I swallow as I collect my wits. I wasn’t sure how fast things would move, and I’m here for this clarity from Avery.
“Okay?” I choke out. “And if I don’t roll a strike?”
She lifts her lips slowly.
“Then I get to tasteyou.” Her eyes dip to my dick.
Holy shit.
“So I win either way?”
“We both do.”
You can say that again.
“Okay, not sure I’m going to be focusing well with this bet on the line. Plus you cheated, because unless a miracle happens, you’re winning.” I haven’t been close to rolling a strike all night.
“As I planned.” She smiles smugly. “Go give it your best, Rook.”
“Always do.”
I grab my ball and get in position in the lane. Turning my head back, Avery’s eyes catch mine, and she nods impatiently. Glad to know she’s eager to see how this turns out too.
I refocus on my lane and get myself in the flow of my normal roll. Pull my arm back, step forward, and let the ball drop—here goes nothing.
I immediately can tell I nailed the backspin. The ball leans out to the right gutter for the first third of the lane, but then I see it even out.
Come on, come on, come on.
The ball starts turning back, ever so slowly.
Come on, come on, come on.
And then it clips into the center of the lane, and hits the lead pin.
Come on, come on, come on.
Thepingsof pins falling fills the air and when the sounds stop…
All ten are down…
A strike.
“FUCK YES,” I say way too loud in a family environment, immediately covering my hand over my mouth and peering around.
Only a couple of people are paying attention to me, and Avery looks amused. I drop my hand and come to where she’s watching.
“I won.”
“You did.”
Jesus, I want to kiss that smirk right off her face. “Do you want to get out of here?”
“Let’s go.”
25
RAWLEY
