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Harlow introduces me, although I recognize each of them since I’m a huge fan.
“Choose your game,” I tell Hendrix as I pick up a square of blue chalk.
“Nine ball,” he says, moving to the wall rack to choose a cue.
I shoot a wink at Harlow, who grins back at me. She knows how good I am and I wonder if she gave him a heads-up. I fully intend to win, exact my prize by having Hendrix clean up the bar tonight, and then I’ll laugh about it with my friend next time we talk.
?
My jaw drops as I watch the nine ball slowly roll into the side pocket off Hendrix’s impressive bank shot. He leans against his cue, grinning at me across the pool table. From the corner of my eye, I see his friends exchanging money, and it’s obvious some of them knew he was pretty damn good to have bet on him.
Not that I didn’t think he might be skilled at pool, but it’s just that I’m really, really good. Sadly, I didn’t play up to my potential tonight.
Harlow moves to my side, leans her head in, and whispers, “It’s almost as if you wanted to lose.”
“I didn’t want to lose,” I growl under my breath. “I hate losing.”
“If you say so,” she murmurs playfully, her eyes cutting across the pool table where Hendrix’s buddies slap his back. But he’s not paying them any attention, instead staring at me intently. “If I had to guess, you’re going to enjoy the ten minutes he just won.”
I wheel on Harlow, taking her wrist in my hand and pulling her a few feet away. “What is he expecting in that ten minutes?”
Harlow laughs. “Nothing more than what you’re willing to let him have, so relax. Hendrix is a nice guy, I promise you.”
“But he just dumped his girlfriend.” That doesn’t sound so nice.
“Trust me,” Harlow says with an incline of her head. “She needed to be dumped. She was one of the most unpleasant people I’ve ever known.”
“Then why was he with her?” I ask curiously.
Harlow shrugs. “You have ten minutes with him. Maybe you should ask.” I scoff, because I don’t care about his personal life. “Although I suggest you continue the flirting you two had going on. It was fun to watch.”
This time, I roll my eyes, because the last thing I could ever be called is a flirt. I mean, sure, I’ll turn on the charm with my customers when I’m behind the bar, but that’s part of my job—and it increases tips.
Still, I did find myself engaging with Hendrix as we moved around the pool table, analyzing angles and calling shots. I know the booze in him probably buoyed his natural charisma, but damn, he’s fun to be around. Playful, witty, and actually quite the gentleman, despite his obvious interest in me as a woman.
“I want my ten minutes now.” I turn around to find Hendrix behind me, his eyes cutting briefly to Harlow. “And I want them to be quality, which means we’re not talking while you’re working behind the bar so we need someplace quiet.”
I twirl around, noting the still thirty or so patrons, and then nod toward the jukebox. “I can’t make it quiet in here.”
He grins devilishly as he hands his pool cue to Harlow and takes my hand. “Luckily, I’m an observant guy.”
To my shock, Hendrix leads me through the bar to the small hallway that branches off to the bathrooms on one side and the stockroom on the other.
It’s the stockroom door handle he grabs, pulling me in behind him. I glance back once into the bar area and note my father watchful but unmoving. He knows I can handle myself, but I can tell you Hendrix just landed a point against himself for pulling me into a private place. Not my problem though, especially since after he gets his ten minutes, I’ll never see him again.
The door closes and Hendrix looks around, taking in the rough wooden built-in shelves around the perimeter filled with supplies, as well as beer cases stacked in the center. Using his hold on my hand, he tugs me over to a lonely stool in the corner. It has a slight tear in the seat, which is why it’s in here.
He releases me and admittedly, I’m charmed when he presses down on the stool top, testing for stability. It holds strong because the rip is the only defect, and then he’s got me by the shoulders, spinning and pushing me down gently onto it.
Hendrix reaches a hand up to one of the wooden shelves, casually tucks his other hand in his jeans pocket, and crosses one ankle over the other. “Okay… since I only have ten minutes—”
“Starting now,” I say, glancing at my watch.
He powers on without missing a beat. “You should know my ultimate goal is in securing a date with you. It would help if you could tell me what hesitations you have in agreeing to such a thing. Like… for example, if you’re not attracted to me, there’s not much I can do about that, and I won’t waste our time.”
