5. June #3
I sink the first ball with ease. Then the second.
And the third. Each time, flicking my gaze at him.
A silent reminder of who’s in charge here.
I float around the table, making sure to pause and think things through before I act.
I pocket the fourth, noting the way he blinks from his spot sitting next to Cora, as if he’s finally realizing he may have met his match.
Cora smiles like a proud mother would at watching her child win whatever it is that kids play. Or it could very well be the copious amount of alcohol running through her veins, causing her cheeks to flush and a perma-grin to stick on her face.
I continue to clear my balls, not for a second doubting my ability.
"Eightball, corner pocket." It's a bank shot, and a little riskier than I would usually try to manage, but I do it anyway just because I can.
The black ball kerplunks into its designated pocket and I hold my breath as I watch the white one get dangerously close to falling into another.
Time slows and I wait for it to stop moving toward my sudden loss.
Magnus leans down and starts blowing on the ball dramatically.
“Hey, that’s cheating!” I grab his arm and pull him away.
“You want to talk about cheating?” He raises his brows. “That was some hoodoo shit if I’ve ever seen it.”
“I won fair and square, and you know it. Don’t be a sore loser.”
Magnus leans against the table and runs his fingers through his hair. Tattoos line the top of his hands and each digit.
I strain to make out what they are, but without him holding still, I can’t quite place them.
“I’m telling you, princess. You could make a pretty penny hustling pool.”
I point to the sign posted near the sticks, where it clearly states that monetary wagers aren’t allowed in here. Only friendly bets, like having to buy someone a beer or telling them their name.
Magnus rolls his eyes. “That doesn’t mean shit. Plenty of other places where people exchange wads of cash.”
Cora strolls over, staggering between us. “You two, are just…adorable. Here.” She shoves both of our drinks into our chests, nearly falling down in the process.
Magnus and I reach out to steady her at the same time.
“Whoa there, lightweight,” I tell her.
She leans her head on my shoulder. “I love you, Juney B.”
Magnus cocks his head sideways to look at me. “Juney B?”
I take a sip of my bourbon and pat Cora’s shoulder. “She’s drunk.”
“Am not,” Cora protests.
“Shh. There, there, sweet thing.” I notice a group of girls eyeing the pool table like they want to play. “Hey, let’s move her out of the way.”
Before I get my arm under her, Magnus takes control and steers her to the high-top we were at.
“I have a car,” he says. “I could have my driver get her home.”
“Sounds like the start to a horror flick where my best friend gets murdered and I’m the next victim.”
“You have trust issues, don’t you?”
“That obvious?” I spot the empty pitcher of beer and Cora’s equally dry glass. “Dude, did you drink all that yourself?”
She lifts her head, her eyes drooping. “I was thirsty.”
It’s no wonder she’s piss drunk.
“Cor,” I steady her to look at me. “Have you eaten today?”
She mumbles something unrecognizable.
“I need to get some food in her system, try to sober her up.”
Magnus nods. “Yeah, definitely. Pizza? We could order it from my place, there’s a good joint like a block away.”
I narrow my gaze at him.
He throws his tatted arms in the air. “Harmless, seriously. Just trying to help. You don’t even have to tell me your real name.”
I let out a breath. It’s not like I don’t already know where he lives.
And the neighborhood is pretty respectable.
What kind of friend would I be if I dropped her off at her parents' house in this condition?
And bringing her to my apartment isn't in the cards, either.
I wouldn't put it past Carter to try to make his move on her while she was inebriated. Fucking slimeball.
The best option is standing in front of me, six-foot-something, a total dreamboat with baby blue eyes, and that irresistible bad boy aesthetic who's actually a charming sweetheart.
“Fine,” I finally say. “But I will shank you if you step out of line.” It’s not me that I worry about, it’s Cora. If something happened to her, I’d never forgive myself.
Me on the other hand—I was born broken; nothing can break me.
“I expect no less from you.” Magnus puts his arm around Cora and nudges her off the chair. “Can you walk?”
“Yep.” Cora stands up straight, blinking wildly and glancing all around. “Did I hear someone say pizza?” She makes a beeline through a group of people, leaving us behind.
Magnus latches onto my hand, weaving his fingers around mine and tugging me in their wake.
It’s like there’s a collective gasp from the girls who were hoping to shoot their shot with him tonight. Does he realize he could have had his pick from any of the females, and probably some of the males in this bar? Why fixate on me?
I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m a hot piece of tail, but I’m nothing special in the grand scheme of things.
I follow the two of them out the front door and bask in the fresh air of being outside.
"Cora," Magnus lets go of me and stops her from going the wrong way. "Over here." He guides her gently back in the correct direction, to a waiting blacked-out SUV.
The engine roars to life the second we approach it.
“Uh, this isn’t creepy at all.” I glance between him and the vehicle. “What, are you in the mafia or something?”
Magnus laughs. “Something like that.”
He opens the back door and Cora climbs in without question.
“After you, princess,” he extends his hand for me.
I pause in front of him, peering up at his stupid gorgeous face. “I know what I want, for winning that game of pool.”
He tucks my hair behind my ear. “Anything.”
“Stop calling me princess.”
Magnus bunches up his nose like he’s wincing. “Anything but that.”
“What?”
“A car, a house, hell, a trip to the moon, but you’re not getting that.”
“You’re literally the worst.” I glare at him.
His lips turn into a grin. “And here you are, getting into an unmarked vehicle with me.”
I climb inside. “I’ve done stupider things.”
“Again, I would expect nothing less.” Magnus slides in next to me and shuts the door. “Home,” he tells the driver hidden behind a sheer wall. “Think she’s going to puke?”
I look at the beautiful blonde resting her head against the window. “I hope not.”
The sexy man sitting inches from me pulls his phone out of his pocket and pushes a few buttons. “What do you want on your pizza?”
“Pineapple,” Cora perks up and announces.
Magnus bobs his head while hovering his finger over the screen. “What else?”
“Pineapple,” she says again.
He elbows me, “What do you want?”
“Whatever you’re having.” I don’t mean for it to come out as sexual as it does, but the way his sapphire eyes meet mine, it’s enough to make a million erotic thoughts rush through my head at once.
A small part of me thinks he’s having the same damn thoughts.
We drive the short distance to the house I delivered food to this morning, only instead of going in the way I did, we go around the back, and enter through a gated area that leads to a garage under his mansion.
Yep, we’re definitely about to get murdered. But why go through the trouble of ordering us a late-night meal? Maybe it’s a ruse, or some sick game he plays before ending his victims.
Oh well, it was fun while it lasted. I guess if I’m going to die, full of expensive bourbon and greasy pizza, by his hands it doesn't seem like a terrible way to go.