Chapter 22
VALENTINA
Everything we did on Oakport was somewhat of a tradition.
From the Welcome Margaritas and Chester’s karaoke performance, down to the boardwalk strolls and grocery trips.
Iris would always get into the shopping cart, Alfie would always wheel her around, and Anni and I would always walk twenty feet behind, so as to not be associated with either of them.
Another meaningless—but ultimately very near and dear to my heart—tradition was pool at Blitz.
Alfie’s Dad had basically forced him to learn how to play when he was barely heavier than the cue stick itself.
Iris’ parents had met playing, so they insisted Iris wouldn’t have been adopted by them if it weren’t for pool, which meant she had this sentimental attachment to it.
And, according to Anni, it was just a thing over in Germany—she also, to the other’s great horror, still insisted it was called billiards, not pool. Which it was not.
All of this meant that my friends were pro pool players, and I’d never touched a cue in my life. When they had suggested we play a round our first time here, I said I’d sit it out. Who wanted to play something they were really good at with someone who had no idea what they were doing?
They’d asked the guys sitting a table over—because without me, there weren’t an even number of players and they couldn’t team up—and Finnick Maxwell had happily obliged. That night had ended with us making out against his car, and we’d been inseparable holiday flings since.
By now, I have held a cue, but I’ve still never played a round. Which was the reason for number eight on my summer bucket list.
8. play pool
I gnawed on my bottom lip as I inspected the game, red lipstick probably all over my teeth.
The fifteen balls formed a triangle in the center of the table, and it shouldn’t be so God damn hard to figure out how to make the white one hit the rest of them.
But I could barely balance the cue. Didn’t know how to hold it or which fingers the tip should rest on. Or between? Under?
I was playing with Anni—ultimately, she was still worse than Alfie and Iris.
From our booth beside the tables, the latter shouted: Someone give poor, helpless Valentina a hand, please!
Amusement lingered in her tone, and I lovingly shoved my middle finger in her direction. Her cackle rang through the lively bar.
This was a bad idea.
I can’t help you. It’s against my best interest, Anni muttered, an amused smile on her lips at my sixth attempt of leaning forward, finally doing it—and aborting the mission.
My gaze helplessly flicked to Mike, leaning against the table. Emotional support for Anni, I assumed—only that I was pretty sure she’d be fine without any kind of support. I think she was starting to realize that, too.
Mike’s hands shot up in playful surrender. Sorry. Wrong team.
My eyes rolled, but my snicker got stuck in my throat when he added, shouting toward our booth, Caden! Would you get your ass over here?
Since he’d carried me up to our room and tugged me into his bed, contact between us had been limited.
There were still fleeting touches, stolen kisses, and, yes, heavy make-out sessions before bed that would leave the both of us so sexually frustrated we’d swear to never do it again.
Only to do it again, exactly twenty-four hours later.
But I didn’t trust myself around him with others there as well, and he must’ve felt the same way.
We’d sit at opposite ends of dinner tables, I’d wait to get a drink until he was out of the kitchen, and when he was in the pool, I definitely stayed out of it.
Today, I’d sat in the corner of the booth to make sure our knees wouldn’t touch beneath the table, and to make sure he couldn’t stretch his long legs to reach my side of it.
A safe distance between us was mandatory, and if he—
What’s up? His voice sent a zing of awareness through me, and I stood up a little straighter, leaned onto the cue, and tried not to look completely helpless.
Valentina is struggling, Mike stated plainly. Honestly, there was no point in denying it, so I just trained all my attention on that triangle of balls on the green table. To focus on anything but Caden’s amused glance, that I could still see out of the corner of my eye.
Is she?
The color I’d worked so hard on banishing from my face returned. Embarrassing. This was simply, and easily, the most embarrassing thing I’d ever experienced. That’s what it felt like, at least.
Who thought putting play pool on that stupid list had been a good idea?
You know what, I pressed through pursed lips. I’m giving up.
We haven’t even started! Anni cried a laugh from the other end of the table. C’mon, just hit it. Caden’s gonna show you. Easy.
He really doesn’t have—
It’s fine, Caden will do it, he said in third-person, moving to stand by my side.
The smirk on his lips had become audible in his tone, so I knew it was there even before I looked at him.
Still, the low-light-backward-cap combination was deadly.
Something plummeted to the pit of my stomach when our gazes met.
I glared at him regardless. Tried to let him know that us, this close, in front of my friends, was not a great idea—without using words.
Relax, he mouthed, then came up behind me. My eyes immediately flicked across the rest of our group; I couldn’t help it. Alfie and Iris were busy stacking cards in the booth, and she had that hateful look in her eyes that let me know they were talking shit about Jason. So at least she was busy.
Anni was standing against a wooden beam, Mike leaned over her, talking and giggling and probably heavily flirting. They’d most likely given up on anything spectacular happening with this game.
The only spectacular thing happening over here was Caden, bending me over the pool table, one hand on mine, the other supporting the weight of the cue. And that was probably much more spectacular for me than for any bystander watching.
What are you doing? I hissed lowly, turning my head just enough to see him. The smile on his lips was so wide, it was borderline goofy.
Showing you how to play pool. He placed the cue between my thumb and pointer finger, then let his touch linger against my hand. His mouth was right by my ear, and I wondered if he had to resist the urge to kiss my neck, as strongly as I was resisting my urge to lean further into him.
In hindsight, wearing a short denim skirt when you’d planned on playing pool—an activity in which you famously had to bend over tables—had been a bad idea. At least with him right behind me, no one could look up my skirt.
His arm aligned with mine, veins and muscles rippling through it.
I’d never quite noticed how nice his hands were, but it was undeniable now, when I was looking right at them, on top of my own.
I shifted underneath his weight, and I wasn’t quite sure what it was supposed to achieve, either.
Bring some distance between us, maybe? Distract me from my ass aligning perfectly with his crotch, most definitely.
It did the exact opposite.
He exhaled forcefully, his hand around the cue tightened, and it wobbled in our shared grip (most likely because, despite my hands on it, Caden was doing all the heavy lifting). Don’t, he stressed.
Don’t wha—? I tried to turn my head in his direction, and he pressed himself tighter against me.
Move, he snapped, but the bite in his tone was missing entirely. Don’t move, Val. Please. He cleared his throat, and a low groan played in the sound. Still, no one was paying any attention to us. Which was fortunate, because I didn’t think I could play this situation cool.
Him, hard, pressing against my backside. In the middle of a crowded bar. Ten feet from my friends, who were convinced this was the first time we’d been this close.
Caden. I hissed his name, but that didn’t help the fact this entire situation was a little too much, and he was a little too close, and I was very, very turned on. Inappropriate, to say the least. They’re gonna know.
It felt like he’d been hanging over me for an hour, honestly. How couldn’t they be a little suspicious—at least curious? But still, one glance around showed that no one was paying us any mind. Anni and Mike were still kissing. Alfie and Iris were still talking shit.
Caden tried his best to align the cue in our hands again.
He pulled it back, and the polished wood grazed my skin.
If you stop blushing, they won’t suspect a thing, sweetheart.
Then, like it was nothing, he—we?—hit the cue ball just right, and the previously neatly aligned balls shot in all possible directions. Two solids went in.
At the loud clang, everyone’s heads shot in our direction again. Caden stood up, then took a step back. Stick in hand, he lazily leaned on it, a content smile on his lips.
Damn. Anni’s eyes narrowed as she assessed the game. Can Caden help me, too?
Hey! Mike complained, and she blew him a consolation kiss in return.
Though, if Caden would help Anni the way he’d helped me—bulge pressing against my ass, whispering sweet nicknames into my ear, and trying his very best to keep himself from searching for more friction against me—I understood why Mike wouldn’t be a fan of the idea.
My eyes slid back to Caden, fixing the cap on his head when our eyes connected.
Tension still filled the air between us, even with the space that separated us now.
It’s like I could still feel his skin on mine, and it was hard to keep my eyes from trailing all the way down his toned arms to his hands.
Strong, and firm and precise. Not just when he was playing pool, but when his fingers would find the perfect spot between my legs or his thumb rolled across my clit just right.
Bathroom! I yelped before I could fall down that particular rabbit hole. I’ll be right back.