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“Trust me,” he mouths, holding my gaze.
I know I shouldn’t. I have no reason to trust him, not really. And yet, when he looks at me the way he’s looking at me, I can’t help but feel like I’d walk right off the edge of a cliff if he promised to catch me at the bottom.
“Fine,” I grumble, turning back to Enzo and Alina. “But you better take it easy on me,” I tell my best friend.
“No promises.” She winks, giving me an uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach.
Like what the hell did I just agree to?
I’ve never seen Archer play pool. For all I know, he could be horrible and he only suggested it so he could get me out of my clothes. Not that Archer Copeland wanting to get me naked is a bad thing. But getting me naked so I can run across the yard in front of God knows how many people and then cannonball into a pool. Never mind how I’m supposed to get out of the water without being completely exposed.
As if knowing I need the reassurance, Archer’s fingers close around mine, giving them a squeeze.
When I look at him, he seems as relaxed as he would if he had just walked out of a massage parlor—not a nervous bone in his body. Meanwhile, I’m over here about to lose the contents of my stomach I’m so scared.
I follow Archer and the others to the billiards room, trying not to seem like I’m seconds away from peeing my pants in fear.
Like the other parts of the house I’ve seen, this room is no different. Big, beautiful, too lavish for any college student to own. This room might be my favorite because of the wall of windows that overlooks the back of the property. At least, I think that until I realize that the windows overlook the pool. A pool that is overflowing with people enjoying the last of the heat that somehow has managed to hang on well into October.
I swallow hard, quickly turning my focus back to the room itself. It’s sunken in so you have to take three stairs to be on ground level. Four pool tables line the space, three of which are occupied...Great, if only all four were being used.And there’s also a wall of dart boards on the far side. It even has the low-hanging lights over each pool table just like you would find in an actual billiards room.
If I wasn’t so nervous, I might actually be in awe of how incredible this place really is. And while it’s crawling with people, I’ve yet to meet a single person who actually lives here.
Pulling my phone from my pocket, I quickly glance at the time.
“You don’t need that.” Archer’s arms come around me from behind. “As per our agreement, I still have two hours to have you back at your dorm.”
“Doesn’t mean I can’t check the time anyway,” I tell him, leaning my head back onto his chest. He’s that much taller than me.
“You in a hurry to get away from me or something?” I can hear the humor in his voice.
“Maybe.” I shrug, smiling to myself.
“All right, that’s enough of that.” Enzo interrupts the moment. “We doing this or what?”
“Oh, we’re doing it.” Archer chuckles, releasing his hold on me. “Don’t worry, this won’t take long,” he promises.
Alina smirks, watching Archer take the break, like she already knows she has it in the bag. Her confidence only increases my level of nervousness. If she’s so sure she’s already won, maybe she has. Or at least, that’s what I think until Archer makes two stripes on the break and then continues to clear every striped ball from the table until he’s left with only one—the eight ball.
Alina’s smirk has fallen to a scowl as she realizes the same thing we all do. Whatever Archer is playing at, he played her right into his trap. The last time they played, he led her to believe he wasn’t any good. But this is Archer Copeland we’re talking about here. I doubt you’d find a single thing this man isn’t good at—at least when it comes to anything athletic, especially where accuracy is involved. And the last time I checked, that’s really the only requirement to be good at pool, to be accurate with each strike of the pool cue against the ball.
“Eight ball, corner pocket.” He calls the pocket directly in front of where I’m standing. As he lines up his shot, his gaze comes up to me, a dimpled smile wide across his handsome face. Without even looking at the ball, he strikes, and even though I want to hold his gaze, too much is riding on whether or not it goes in the hole.
My eyes dart down just in time to see it fall into the pocket with perfect precision.
“Holy shit!” Enzo barks out a laugh. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone clear a pool table so fucking fast.” He seems quite impressed with his quarterback, but not surprised.
“You fucking hustled me!” Alina slaps the side of the pool table, her tone a mixture of irritation and humor.
“Maybe.” He shrugs indifferently. “The trick, Miss Stryker, is to not show your opponent all your cards before the real match has even begun.” He moves down the table, placing his pool stick back in the cue case before coming to stand next to me.
“You knew you would win,” I hear myself say.
“I did,” he confirms. “And now...” His gaze slips to Alina and Enzo. “I believe you have clothes to lose and a pool to visit.”
“You know what, fine with me.” Alina quickly strips off her shirt, revealing a lacy, bright pink bra. The sight instantly makes me uncomfortable. Or rather, the fact that Archer is seeing her like this does.
I may be comfortable in my own skin, but that doesn’t mean I’m not haunted by the same insecurities as just about every other woman on the planet. Especially when it comes to someone who looks like Alina.
