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Over the music, I heard the sharp crack of billiard balls breaking. Glancing over, I see two guys I grew up with, so I walk over to greet them. Having known the twins since the fourth grade, they’re like family and are completely harmless. All the girls in high school couldn’t get enough of the gorgeous duo with their olive skin and green eyes. Harry got married and divorced within six months and Henry is afraid of commitment for anytime longer than one night.
Walking over, I set my glass down and ignore the playful catcalls as I reach for a cue.
Harry sings. “Well, if it ain’t sweet Savannah.”
I point the cue at him. “Knock it offHaroldor I’ll shove this up your…”
“Whoa, chill, baby. I’m not into anal.”
“You’re gross.”
Henry looks up from the table, his strategizing temporarily put on hold as he addresses me with an easy smile. “What’s up, girl?”
“Hey.”
“What brings you out tonight?” Harry asks as he reaches for the chalk.
I motion with my chin. “You still think doing that before every shot makes a difference?”
“Hell yeah, I do!” He laughs as he rounds the table when Henry misses his shot.
Bending at the waist, Harry leans over the table, sinks a ball, rechalks, and then sinks another. He sinks four in a row. “See.”
I glance at Harry who is looking around the bar.
“I wouldn’t watch either if I was getting my butt kicked.”
“I gotta take a piss,” he says, nodding in my direction. “Wanna play?”
I smile deviously. “I’d love to.”
Walking away, Harry yells back. “You guys want another round?”
I chalk my cue. “Sure.”
“Ah, shit!” Harry grunts.
One by one, I sink the solids.
“Excuse me,” I say sweetly, waiting for Harry to move so I can get a good shot. “Two, left corner.”
He scoffs. “In your dreams, little girl.”
Concentrating on the angle I need to hit the eight ball; I align the cue between my fingers and pull back gently but pause when I’m knocked forward. I glance over my shoulder and notice a man, dressed in black, leaning far over the other table to take a shot. He seems oblivious that he just grazed me.
“What are you waiting for?” Harry asks.
I blink when I realize that I’m more focused on the other table where the man nails the black ball for the win.
“I’ll take that money now,” the man with the deep, sexy voice says to his opponent who curses and tosses a hundred-dollar bill onto the table. With a quick swipe, the money is shoved into the front pocket of his dark jeans. “Thank you,” he mocks as the loser drags himself to the bar.
With their game over, the attention turns to watch the one between Harry and me.
“Seems we have an audience now,” Harry says, huffing.
My eyes shift and connect with the gorgeous man who’s standing with his arms crossed and his huge biceps on display beneath a black shirt. I’m not sure if his size or his beautiful, sharp blues make me nervous. He’s a little intimidating.
“Nice shot,” I say, earning me a crooked grin. My belly flutters at the intensity of his gaze.
