Chapter 4
4
GRAYSON
D riving to the pool hall, I really can’t believe she said she’d meet me. I won’t lie and say I wasn’t hoping she would say yes when I asked, but there was a part of me that didn’t really think she would.
I also won’t say I'm disappointed the boat had issues, so we had to cut the trip short. Normally, I love being out on the water, away from the daily grind of life. Even my buddy, Caleb, could tell something was off with me. Being a man of few words, he didn't say much. When he did talk, it meant something. And he knows me well enough to be able to read my emotions and call me out on any bullshit I may try to throw his way.
It didn't even faze me that not only would we have to cut the trip short but that the part was going to be ridiculously expensive to fix. When I didn't give a shit about either, he knew.
“Dude, who is she?” he asked me. He was driving the boat, and I was sitting across from him.
I didn't answer him right away. He looked over and stared at me, not in a judgmental way; he just wanted an answer. It was a simple question, but the answer was loaded.
I sighed. “Someone I met on Thursday night.” I didn’t give anymore. He would ask or wait for me to give him more. We got along so well because we were so much alike.
He stared straight ahead, keeping his gaze focused on the water. He took a swig of his beer and looked back over at me. “And?” he questioned.
“I can't explain it. She fucking kissed me. Out of nowhere. And damn, that kiss.” I took a breath, remembering the way her tongue felt against mine. I felt myself getting hard, so I turned and looked out at the water.
“You gonna see her again?” I heard him ask.
“Tomorrow,” I replied, running my hands through my hair. I looked back over to him. He wore a huge smirk on his face. “What?”
“Yeah, like that's going to happen now that you are back early.”
I thought about what he said. Of course, it occurred to me to ask her if she was free, but it's last-minute on a Saturday night. What were the odds she wasn’t busy?
I realized he was still talking. “Come with us to the pool hall tonight.”
“How do you even have plans for tonight? We were supposed to be on the boat still.” Caleb might be a man of few words, but he had a social calendar like no one else I knew. Including Bella.
He gave me a crazy look. “If I'm not on the boat, it’s a given I’m at the bar or the pool hall,” he explained.
“Right.”
It couldn't hurt to ask her. I could still join the guys if she couldn't go. It had been a while since I've played.
I realize I'm about to drive past the pool hall and quickly make the turn into the lot. Pulling into a spot, I think about the fact that I have no clue what kind of car Ainsley drives. I look around the lot. There aren't many cars because it's still early for a Saturday night. I spot Caleb's truck right away; it stands out no matter where he parks it. It looks like he's already inside.
Getting out of my car, I'm about to send Ainsley a text when I notice an older model Honda CRV pulling in. Glimpsing at the driver, my heart starts to beat faster, and my palms sweat as I notice it's her driving. She sees me and gives me a small smile and a wave. She pulls into a spot near me. I start to walk over to her, and once she’s parked, she hops out of the car and starts walking my way.
She’s dressed way more casually tonight, and it suits her. Her hair is pulled back off her face in what looks to be a low ponytail. Her jeans are the skinny, fitted type, and they work well on her. Her light sweater keeps dipping off one shoulder as she walks, but she keeps reaching up to put it back in place. The flats on her feet don’t give her any more height, so when she reaches where I’m waiting, I’ve got about eight inches on her.
Before I can think about making any type of move, she throws her arms around my waist and pulls herself in closer to me. She lays her head on my chest. She murmurs, “Thank you,” as she closes her eyes. I wrap my arms around her, pulling her in tighter to me.
“For what?”
Opening her eyes, she pulls her head away from my chest. She looks up at me, her green eyes shining and full of hope. It’s then I realize she’s barely wearing any makeup. As if to confirm my initial thoughts from the other night, the natural look showcases her beauty more so than all the caked-on makeup. A piece of hair falls in her face, so I brush it away gently as she answers me. “For saving me from my mother and her dinner party. Although I was looking forward to my dad’s stuffed burgers…” she replies, then trails off.
“Are you hungry?” I ask her. There’s not much food served at the pool hall; mostly only fried appetizers.
“I could go for some food, but let’s play pool for a bit and then get food.” She smiles at me, this one reaching her eyes.
“Damn, you’ve got a great smile.” The words are out of my mouth before I realize what I’m saying.
“Thanks,” she responds, smiling even bigger. She pulls out of my arms completely and grabs my hand and starts walking to the pool hall. Her hand matches the feel of mine, a bit clammy, but neither of us seems to mind.
Once inside, there’s no line at the desk, so we reserve a table. Since there’s no food or drinks allowed by the tables, we forgo both of those for now and head to the back room. Three of the twelve tables are occupied, Caleb and some of our buddies at one of them.
After sinking his shot, Caleb waves me over. I put down the ball rack on table four and grab Ainsley’s hand and walk over.
“So, did you know your friends were going to be here?” she asks nervously, her expression matching her voice. She slows down a bit behind me, as she tries to tug her hand out of mine.
“Yes, but they don’t bite,” I tell her to calm her nerves, not letting go of her hand. Looking back at her, she gives me a weak smile. I stop walking for a minute and turn my body to face her. Putting my hands on her shoulders, I ask her, “Where’s the girl that kissed me when we met?”
“Apparently I left her at home,” she counters.
Not knowing where my boldness is coming from, I lean in and whisper in her ear, “Bring her out to play.”
She sucks in a breath, mutters “fuck,” drawing out the last part of it, and then barrels past me. I watch as she walks over to where my friends are and starts introducing herself. Caleb raises his brows in my direction, and he gives me a slight nod of his approval. When she gets to Natalie, Caleb’s girlfriend, Natalie immediately pulls her into a hug. Stumbling ever so slightly, Ainsley returns the hug. I start over to them and walk a little faster when I see Natalie speaking into her ear. Ainsley’s smile never fades, so I take that as a good sign.
When I finally make my way over to the group, Natalie pulls me in for a hug. “Good to see you, Gray,” she says. She lowers her voice so that no one else overhears. “I’ve got a good vibe about this one. Make it work.” She pulls out of my embrace and gives me a sweet smile.
I love Natalie; she’s the other sister I never had. She’s such the opposite of Caleb, but for them, it totally works. I’ve actually known her longer than I’ve known Caleb; I set them up on a date. Well, it was technically Bella, but I’m pretty sure I suggested it. I trust her judgment implicitly; she’s got great people skills, even with first impressions.
“Thanks, Nat,” I tell her. “Glad to have your boy back early?” I glance behind me at Caleb. He’s focused on his game, pool stick tucked close to him as he watches Rich line up his shot.
Natalie follows my gaze. “I’ll be glad later tonight.”
After she winks at me, I pop a kiss on the top of her head. “He’s ready for you,” I quip.
“Oh to be a fly on the wall while you two are out fishing,” she retorts with a laugh.
“You know the invitation is always open to you. Come be a fly.”
She shakes her head and gags. “No thanks. Well, unless you find me someone to be a fly with.” She motions her head over at Ainsley, who has taken a seat on one of the high stools near their table.
I smile at Natalie. “I’ll work on it,” I say, and then start toward where Ainsley sits. I’m not about to get ahead of myself on the third day of knowing the girl.
As I make my way over, Ainsley pulls her attention from the game to me. She gestures me to her stool. I stand in front of it and put my hands on her knees. Her legs spread open, inviting me closer, and I step in between her legs. She brings her legs into me, squeezing my thighs with her knees.
“I didn’t ask if you played pool.”
Even though most of her hair is pulled back in the ponytail, she twirls the one strand that’s fallen out around her fingers. She lets it fall out of her fingers. “I wouldn’t have come if I didn’t,” she responds.
“Well, let’s play then.” I take a step back and then lift her off the chair. I let her lead us to the table, where I rack the balls. She picks out a cue for herself and then leans her hip against the table waiting for me. “You want to break? ”
“No, I’ll leave that up to you.”
Grabbing a stick from the holder, I chalk up the tip and then step behind the table. I line up my shot and shoot the cue ball. It hits the pyramid at the angle I want, sending the fifteen balls spiraling out in all different directions. The three-ball slightly bounces off the far left corner before falling into the pocket. Looking for my next shot, I walk around the table, nudging Ainsley as I pass her. She’s not fazed at all, just continues to watch me as I line up my next move.
I eye the shot, but at the last minute, the cue ball misses its mark. “Your turn,” I call out to her.
I watch her as she moves around the table. As she passes me, her hips sway just a little more than usual as she makes the move more exaggerated. After what seems like five minutes, she gets in position to shoot. I look at her body position and the angle of the shot and am about to comment when she brings back the cue stick and makes contact with the cue ball. I watch as the cue ball hits its intended mark, as two striped balls are struck and make their way to opposite corners, both falling into the pockets.
As she makes her way around to me again to set up her next shot, she stops when she gets to me, and looks up, a wicked gleam in her eyes. “You were going to say?” she asks with a smirk.
My jaw drops, as I realize that not only is she calling me out on the fact that I was going to suggest she not play that move, but also the fact that she’s a serious competitor. Or a lucky shot. That’s yet to be determined.
I go with the latter. “That was luck. Let’s see what else you’ve got.”
As if stepping up to my challenge, she walks to the opposite side of the table. She looks at the different angles of the balls to see which way to play it. Again, she lines up a shot I would never have taken yet somehow manages to sink another ball.
“Still think it’s luck?” she questions. “Shall I keep going?” She bats her eyes at me. It’s almost enough for me to go up behind her and throw her down on the table. Almost. I still have a tiny bit of restraint left with this girl. For the moment.
“You’ve got four more stripes to play. Think you can get them all in the pockets?” I ask, goading her.
She stares me down. “Are you asking if I think I can get them all in the pockets before you get to play again or just in general?”
I gulp. Dude, she’s got some balls.
Not backing down, I walk over to where she’s standing. I lay my cue stick down on the table, careful not to touch any of the balls in play. Looking her in the eyes, in my most gravelly voice, I say, “Four shots. Four stripes in the pockets. Think you can do it?”
She holds my gaze for a few minutes before she speaks. “Yep.” She backs away from me slowly, not letting her gaze fall from mine. “Watch me,” she hurls my way before pulling her gaze away from mine.
I’m kinda stuck standing where I am, entranced by not only her beauty, but also the confidence she exudes. And suddenly I have to know if she has this confidence in the bedroom. This girl is like no other girl I’ve known, which is both exciting and fucking terrifying at the same time.
Realizing she hasn’t taken a shot yet, I pull myself out of my thoughts and look at her. She’s standing with her hands on her hips, a look of exasperation on her face. “Kindly remove your cue stick from the table,” she coos when she knows she finally has my attention.
I glance down and realize that I never picked the stick back up. I quickly remove it from the table and as soon as it’s out of her way, she sets to work.
She takes one shot from where she stands and sinks two more balls. She makes her way around the table, practically shoving me out of the way when she gets to me. She starts to line up her next shot, but thinks better of it, and moves to a new position. Almost instinctively, I nod.
“Thanks for the approval,” she declares, not even taking her eyes off the table. She cranks back the cue stick and hits the cue ball dead center, sending it on its way to barely nudge one of the striped balls into the middle pocket. There’s one ball left but really no shot. She eyes the position of the last ball and where the cue ball ended up. Planning out her attack, she steps around the table. It takes her a few minutes to find the right angle, and even after she’s decided on the shot, she changes it up one last time.
I glance up to see Natalie watching us from her table. She’s not playing, but the guys still are. Her eyes are glued to Ainsley’s actions, her jaw dropped in disbelief at what she’s witnessing. I shrug my shoulders and give her a crooked smile.
I look back at our table to hear the smack of the cue ball as it makes contact with the last remaining striped ball. The angle appears off, and I think there’s no way that it’s going to go in. However, at the very last second, the ball finds its way into the pocket.
Without missing a beat, Ainsley lines up the shot for the eight-ball. “Corner pocket,” she declares and takes the shot. Color me super impressed when the eight-ball falls into the intended mark.
Ainsley carefully places her cue stick on the table and sidles up to me. She grabs mine out of my hand, places it next to hers, and reaches up to shut my open jaw. Standing on tippy-toes, she pulls my head down a little so she can speak directly in my ear. “Found the girl from the other night. Can you handle it?”
Nope, not even a little.
I crash my lips to hers.