Chapter 9
Chelsea
“I can’t believe you won.”
“I can,” Roy teased. “Because I’m a damn good pool player.”
“You mean because I helped you win. I’d almost call that cheating.”
“Me? Cheating? Not a chance,” he huffed, acting as if incensed. “I told you solids or stripes. You simply confused the two.”
A snort from my mouth brought a laugh from his throat. “I was testing you.”
“Oh, I see. There was no accounting for how I handled the stick.” His purposeful enunciation of the single word was, of course, done on purpose.
He’d figured out what triggered my wild side and had exploited it, much to his delight and my chagrin.
To say he’d gotten me all fired up was an understatement.
Every grin he gave, every time he caved, every shot he made—I was watching him.
As he’d done with me. The song rattled in my head since it was the last one played on the old jukebox.
I didn’t even know there was a bar left in any city housing a nineteen-eighties relic.
His flirtatious nature had been over the top, which had suited the music selection perfectly.
I couldn’t tell a lie. I’d thoroughly enjoyed myself.
A fascinating aspect of the evening was that we remained on edge, as if tiptoeing around the truth about our backstories had been the most competitive game of all.
I was beginning to wonder how many of the outlandish stories he’d told me were true or simply random details he’d tossed out to see if I’d bite.
Example. That he’d once been called on stage to sing with Halestorm. If true, I’d give my firstborn to see that in action. I could see it though, the man grinding with Lizzy Hale. Certainly his style.
“Let me venture a guess. You’re good at every sport.” I tapped my index finger against my lips.
He took and held a deep, very exaggerated breath while rubbing his jaw. Which of course was yet another sensual move that drew my attention. “Not true. I suck at golf.”
“Well, damn. I guess you’re nothing but a slacker.”
Being with Roy wasn’t anything like I’d expected. After the months of having hockey shoved down my throat, I’d thought I’d carefully crafted a decent picture and understanding of male behaviors when drunk on fame and testosterone.
Roy had surprised me more than once. Parts of him were sensitive. When he wasn’t trying to prove he was one powerful man.
“In this case, I beat you twice. Two times.” He held up his fingers in front of my face after he cut the engine on the truck.
We’d made it back safely to the parking lot of the gym without the big tough guy at the bar doing any physical damage.
At one point, I’d been certain a fight had been ready to break out.
I playfully punched his arm. “Nope. I don’t buy it. You cheated all by yourself on the second game. You didn’t even need my help.”
“Now, how did I cheat exactly? I even let you break twice for the second game. Now, I’m not saying you suck at it, but… You suck at it.”
A soft but pronounced cringe swept through me from the ugly vision.
We’d been afraid I’d ripped the felt. When the manager had walked by after hearing me screech, I’d crawled onto the table, pretending to be a sex kitten to avoid the teensy tiny tear being noticed.
“All your fault. You stared at me every time I took a shot.”
“And that unnerved you?”
“Yes. But I’ll never admit it.”
“Hmmm… I think I like unnerving you.” Roy’s tone changed, enough that I was suddenly nervous around him. “Of course, not that I really did.”
I purposely opened the truck door before answering. “Can I ask you a question?”
“Sure. You can ask anything.”
“What did the guy in the bar say?”
He snorted. “He was ready to hit on you.”
“No, that’s not what I mean. I noticed he was ready to get a little touchy feely, and I can handle myself with Neanderthal men.
I’m talking about whatever he said as I took that shot.
I could tell it really pissed you off. Your hands were fisted and there was electricity almost like a forcefield all around you. ”
“Just the usual, goading me into a fight. Believe it or not, there are a bunch of people who can’t stand hockey players. Hard to believe, huh?”
I rolled my eyes for his benefit. “Very hard to believe. Thanks for a nice evening after all.” The jerk had said something else. I’d only caught a few words, but I was positive he’d called Roy a wolf man.
“Sounds like you didn’t expect you’d enjoy my company.”
“Not at all. At this point in my life I can’t imagine I’m very good company. My goals are most important, which doesn’t included dating. I hope you understand.”
“Yeah, I get it. I won’t tell anyone we were out on a date. You know, just in case they ask. For what it’s worth, I enjoyed the hell out of myself. Clementine.”
“Thank you. Roy. A truly chivalrous man.” While nervous laughter erupted, I stepped into the night air, uncertain if I was hopeful he’d take the hint and drive off or if the girl inside would be thoroughly disappointed.
I hadn’t realized he’d moved beside me at first, but he was impossible to miss both because of his size and his presence. He carried an aura that I’d yet to categorize.
“I aim to please.” We had another awkward moment. “Say, I hope you don’t mind me walking you to your car. There are crazies in this world. You know?”
“Do you mean like the guys in the bar?”
His grin was sheepish, a dangle of long curls sweeping into his eyes as he peered down at me. “They were all bark and no bite.”
“You think?”
“Yep. You can always tell.”
“What about you? Are you the same way?” We were already standing by my vehicle, our bodies lit in the harsh glow of the massive overhead lamp.
He gave my question more thought than necessary, rubbing his jaw as he did. I’d noticed in the bar his stubble had grown. Or maybe my crazy longing to run my fingers across the coarse hair had, knowing it would tickle my skin.
“Nah. I’m just the opposite. I bite then I howl.” He felt the need to provide me with an example, tipping his head and howling at the full moon.
“Does that work with the girls?”
“Every time.”
“Then you’ve met your match. Thanks for walking me. I’ll be fine from here.” I clicked the key fob, uncertain if I should wait until he walked away. Did I want him to walk away?
“No prob. Anything to keep a lady safe. Break a leg.” He took his time, taking a long stride backward.
“I will. Thanks.” The moment was awkward, much more so than the first time a boy had asked me out in high school.
He took another step before jerking himself to a stop. “So, I was wondering.”
“What’s that?”
“Since we agree there are so many crazy people in this world, including some who wouldn’t mind eating sweet, tender flesh for a midnight snack, would you mind if I followed you home? I mean just to ensure you got there safely?”
Another round of credit went to him for creativity.
This was the point when I should enforce the rules, although they hadn’t included being concerned if he presented himself as a gentleman.
The answer should be easy. Instead, it challenged the core fiber of my being.
But I was an adult, a woman controlling my own life.
Nothing was wrong with allowing him to act on his need for chivalry.
Before I knew what I was doing, the answer slipped from my mouth.
“That would be just fine.”
As soon as I slipped into my beat-up little Honda, I chastised myself for agreeing.
Now he’d know my address. Okay, so I doubted he’d decided after a couple of times in the gym to case me, now finding out where I lived so he could rob me.
He’d be sorely disappointed if that was the case since I had nothing of value.
Including my poor car that had seen better days.
“If you’re determined to live on your own, then so be it.” I could still hear my father’s voice inside my head.
I could try to make a run for it, utilizing the back roads that I was clueless about. I had a feeling Roy knew every street in the city. Besides, why would I want to do that? Because I was terrified of where this could lead. I wasn’t afraid of intimacy, just opposed to the aftermath.
The forced conversations. The pretense that one or the other cared. The lies about calling or texting the other. Even going so far as to exchange phone numbers knowing that in about a week, maybe two, after consuming a few glasses of wine, you’d make a ceremony out of deleting his information.
But of course that wouldn’t be until you’d stalked him on social media, at first eager to learn more about him in the privacy of your own home.
Also curious about his friends. His likes and dislikes.
Then once you realized just how popular he was, you’d start to notice the position of his hand when taking a photograph with another girl.
Or where his eyes had drifted on her body.
By that point, disgust would settle in and you’d start wondering why he hadn’t texted you back.
After the fifth cute line using an adorable emoji, you’d begin to believe with all your heart he was already cheating on you.
If a couple of days had gone by, you might even consider following him just to be certain you were correct.
Yep. While I’d never done something so ridiculous in my entire life, it was entirely possible my personality could change. All because one man couldn’t keep his dick in his pants. For anyone.
My deep breath was strangled on the intake, rattled when I exhaled out of frustration.
I also twisted my hand around my cheap vinyl steering wheel cover.
At this point given the age of the vehicle and how many times I’d taken my annoyance out on my pretty little car, I’d be rubbing skin against metal soon.
The headlights cutting across the rearview mirror were a clear indication my excess speed wasn’t daunting. Maybe I should just slow down and enjoy the ride.
“Oh, my God,” I whispered harshly out loud. What in the hell was I thinking? What was I considering doing? Fucking him? Was that it? Were there any other reasons to allow him to come over?