8. June
The pool table is at the far end of the restaurant, and I’m not sure if it belongs or if it was brought in for the party. It doesn’t quite fit with the rest of the décor. It’s out of place, just like I am. But I’m glad it’s here, because playing pool is one of the things I do well. My father had an old pool table in the garage, and he taught my brother and me how to play. Much to August’s chagrin, I was a better student than him. My dad said I was a natural.
The Unholy Trinity—as Melissa called Lachlan, Ryan, and Jake—surround the pool table. Ryan and Jake are playing while Lachlan watches with a beer in hand.
He’s the first to notice us walking over, and he immediately stands straighter, almost as if he wants to make a good impression. If that’s the case, surely he doesn’t want to impress me.
“It didn’t take long, did it?” Melissa asks Ryan and Jake.
“What?” Ryan’s eyes widen innocently. “You went through the trouble of getting us a pool table. The least we can do is play.”
“You’d better have made your rounds and talked to the sponsors already.”
“Don’t worry, Melissa. We socialized, and we’ll continue to make our rounds after I kick Ryan’s ass.”
“Who’s winning?” I ask.
Ryan twists his face into a grimace. “Jake, but not for long.”
I look at the table and notice more striped balls than solid. In fact, there are only two solids left, plus the eight ball.
Jake snorts. “Watch this.” He chalks the cue and bends over the table, getting into position to take his shot. He ditched his suit jacket and rolled up his shirt sleeves, showcasing corded muscles and veins. Damn, the look’s sexy as hell. He glances at me, catching me staring. Usually, I’d look away, but I hold his stare. He smirks and then winks before focusing on the ball he wants to hit, and then the cue ball. With a powerful strike, he sinks his target. A minute later, the game is over.
“God dammit!” Ryan blurts out.
Smiling, Jake lifts his hand. “Pay up, buddy.”
Ryan fishes out a crisp one-hundred-dollar bill from his pocket and shoves it into Jake’s hand.
“Do you play, June?” Lachlan asks me.
“Yeah, sometimes.”
From the corner of my eye, I catch Melissa’s eyebrow raise. I did tell her that I was pretty good. Most guys think girls either have no interest in playing pool or don’t know how. I love proving them wrong. And if there’s money involved, even better. I never feel bad about taking money from people who underestimate me. Most of the time, I’m unsure of myself, but not when it comes to pool. Or maybe I’m feeling extra confident thanks to the martini. God knows I wouldn’t be so bold around these famous hockey players if it weren’t for alcohol.
“Why don’t you play with June?” Melissa suggests.
“That’s a great idea. I’m game,” Ryan replies. “You can be my partner, June.”
“How about we let her decide?” Jake pipes up. “She might want to pair up with a winner.”
Are these guys seriously competing to have me as their partner? This evening keeps getting more surreal. It’s obvious that Jake and Ryan are skilled at pool, and they won’t hold back—being competitive must be a part of their DNA, or they wouldn’t be professional athletes.
There’s nothing I like better than wiping the floor with cocky guys.
As I watch the duo, I press my index finger against my lips and pretend to think about it. Then I switch my attention to Lachlan, who’s been quiet. “Do you want to partner with me?”
His blue eyes widen. “Are you sure? Fair warning, I’m not as good as those two.”
I shrug. “I don’t mind.”
Ryan turns to Jake. “I guess it’s you and me, buddy.”
Jake keeps staring at me in a scrutinizing way. He’s trying to figure me out. Good luck with that. I’m still trying to figuremeout. But if he wants to give it a go, be my guest.
I select my cue stick from the stand and prep it with chalk.
“Since June is the guest of honor, we’ll let you two start,” Ryan tells us.
In my periphery, I see Melissa sit and get comfortable. I turn to her, and she winks at me. I think she wants me to destroy Jake and Ryan.
I don’t want to clue them in on the fact that I know what I’m doing, so I turn to Lachlan. “Can you break?”
“It’ll be my pleasure, lass.” He finishes his beer and sets the empty glass on a nearby high table. Then he grabs the triangle and racks the balls.
I can’t take my eyes off him. He’s so handsome, and despite his sheer size—I mean, the guy is probably six-four or five—he moves with incredible grace. But I think what I love the most about how he looks is his shaggy blond hair and boyish face. The long bangs cover part of his right eye in a sexy way. He resembles a surfer more than a Scottish hockey player.
“June,” Melissa calls, drawing my attention. A waiter is standing next to her. “Would you like another dirty martini or something else?”
“Martini is good.”Even though I want to avoid getting completely trashed tonight, and those drinks are potent, I can handle a second one.
“Boys?” Melissa turns to the trio.
It amuses me that she refers to these three grown men as boys. They don’t seem to care. I barely know them, and I’m already thinking about them that way too. It’s endearing.
“Another IPA for me,” Lachlan replies.
“I’ll have a dirty martini too.” Ryan smiles at me, making me blush.
When Jake doesn’t answer right away, Melissa calls his name. I look and find him staring at me again. His expression is closed off but not unfriendly. It does make me self-conscious though.
He switches his attention to Melissa and finally answers, “An old-fashioned for me.”
A whiskey guy. It fits him.
Before Lachlan starts the game, I ask, “What are the stakes?”
“Do you want to play for money?” Ryan raises an eyebrow and curls his lips upward.
He’s the cockiest of them all, and wiping that smirk off his gorgeous face will give me great pleasure. “Of course.”
“June... are you sure?” Lachlan asks, frowning slightly.
“Yeah, don’t worry. I’m good for the money if we don’t win.”
Bad, bad, June. Who’s being cocky and reckless now? I need to save every penny to rent a new apartment. Never mind that I still have to pay off that stupid Jumbotron slot. I used my emergency credit card for it.
Tomorrow’s problems, June.
He shakes his head. “Don’t worry, lass. If we don’t win, it’s on me.” He turns to the others. “Same amount?”
“Sure,” Ryan replies
I’d fight Lachlan to pay for my half, but I sense it’d be pointless. These boys make a lot of money, and for them, losing one hundred dollars on a bet would be like me losing a penny.
Lachlan breaks and sinks a stripe. The table is still open though, meaning he can pocket either a solid or a stripe next and decide which we’ll play.
He turns to me. “Wanna give it a go?”
According to the rules, he should keep playing, but I don’t think they care, so I shrug. “Sure.”
I take my time studying the balls on the table. Even though one stripe is already gone, the solids are better positioned. I can easily pocket two or three, if I play my angles right. I chalk my cue again even though I did it already. It’s my ritual; it helps me get into the zone. The restaurant and everyone in it fade away, including my opponents and my partner.
I bend over the table, narrowing my eyes as I line my cue stick at the right angle to take the shot. Then I hit the cue ball with a quick and powerful jab. The loud clack is almost as satisfying as seeing the target ball disappear into the pocket.
“Ah shit. She’s good,” Ryan mutters.
I don’t look at him, keeping my focus on the new spread. I walk around the table, ignoring the pain in my feet thanks to the high-heeled sandals pinching my toes, and repeat the same process three more times. I miscalculate the last shot and end my streak. It’s only then that I pay attention to my surroundings. All three men are staring at me with their jaws hanging loose.
“Son of a bitch.” Ryan stares at the table as if he can’t believe I pocketed three balls in a row.
Lachlan’s face splits into a broad grin. “I guess we don’t have to worry about losing to these eejits.”
I return his smile. “I guess not.”