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I cover Brinley’s hand with mine. “Wait. I’ll walk with you after I get off.”
She hesitates and glances at the couple in the corner like I did.
“You don’t want to leave me all alone, do you?” I give her a pleading look.
“All right, one more.”
I get the bottle out and screw off the cap, putting it in front of her. “I’ll be right back.”
I toss her old bottle in the recycling and head over to the couple by the pool table. They’re pretty intimate and a jealous feeling settles in my stomach. Why do I want that so much? Because I want a night with Brinley. A night where I can kiss her and undress her and discover all the noises she’ll make as I settle on top and inside of her.
“Can I get you anything else?” I ask the couple.
The guy downs his drink and looks at the woman he’s with, asking her silently if she wants another round.
“We need to get home.” She finishes her drink, and the guy hands me his credit card.
I ring them up and return it to him.
After they’ve left and I’m cleaning off their table, I whistle toward Brinley, whose attention is on the TV.
“Want to play some pool?” I ask.
“Aren’t you working?” she asks, but she’s already sliding off her stool and bringing her beer and pretzels with her.
“There’s no one for me to serve and we’re closing early tonight because of the storm. I’ve got an hour to kill. Humor me and keep me busy?”
“You don’t know what you’re in for, Adler.” She picks up a pool stick and chalks it.
“I’m in the military. Hate to break it to you, beautiful, but I live at bars with pool tables.”
She laughs and sips her beer. “I come from a family of serious competitors.”
“Then let’s wager.” I rack the balls before grabbing my own stick.
“All right.”
“What do you want?” I ask, and her gaze tracks down my body. “Whatever you want, Brinley,” I say in a low voice.
She bites her lip. “Well, I need to sketch someone, so if I win, I get to sketch you.”
“Done. And if I win, I get to take you on a date in public.”
“Fine, but practice your poses because you’re about to lose.”
“Big talk. Break ’em.”
With complete confidence, she makes her way around the pool table and lines up her stick, resting it under her finger. The stick slides back and forth a few times, then her gaze rises to meet mine as she draws the stick back and pushes it forward. It goes right between the first and second rows, sending the balls flying. A solid goes into the right corner pocket.
“Guess I’m solids.”
I wave toward the pool table and she lines up her next shot. She sinks two more balls and misses the third by a hair when it bounces out of the pocket.
I come up behind her and lean down to say into her ear, “My turn now.”
She doesn’t say anything, but her body shudders to my lips being so close. She shudders and her eyes close for the briefest of seconds.
I line the stick up for my shot, and the ball sinks into the middle left pocket.
