Chapter 9 #2
Benjamin gathers the balls on the table and while I wait, resting against a cue, I let myself scrutinize him more carefully.
You have to know your enemies, right? The nose is strong, and the lower lip full.
He moves easily around the table, like he’s done this a thousand times before, and perhaps he has.
But so have I. I was raised in a town where places like this were where you spent your time, and pool was what you played.
At least if you were a girl like me who never turned down a game. Ever.
The eyes snagging up to me when the table is set look almost brown in the dim light, and something swoops in my stomach. It’s the alcohol.
“I’ll get us something to drink before we start. What do you want?”
“I can get my own drink, thank you,” I say and start for the bar. An arm around my waist stops me, and I inhale sharply, skin tingling from the friction.
“Collins,” a low voice whispers in my ear, his soft breath tickling the sensitive skin beneath it. “Just let me buy you a drink. I won’t poison it . . . I think.” I can hear the mischievous smile in his voice and instinctively step out of his hold.
“Wow, it has manners?” I say and turn around, finding his eyes already on me. A smile curves his lips.
“What are you drinking?”
“Hm,” I say and pretend to think. “An I’ll Break You, please.”
The small smile turns into a superior smirk. “Oh, I don’t know if they have that one, but I can get you a Dreamer, instead?”
I return his smirk and we stare at each other, neither of us blinks. Standing this close, I can smell him. It’s fresh. And manly. Why is the air feeling thick?
“You okay, June?” A new voice breaks our weird bubble, and we both turn. Austin stands outside the restrooms and watches us with a small divot between his brows. Benjamin’s jaw clenches, and he takes a step back.
I shoot Austin a smile. “Yeah. Just going to play a game of pool. I’ll be back soon.”
He nods, watching Benjamin for a moment, before he disappears inside the restrooms.
“Drinks then,” Benjamin says, moving in the direction of the bar.
As I watch him go, I notice that Iris is back on the stage again, this time with three people I’ve never seen before.
“The Sign” by Ace of Base blasts from the speakers, and Iris and the others sing as if their lives depended on it—to the audience’s great delight.
Iris looks like she’s never been happier.
“Daydreaming, Collins?”
I feel my smile fading as my pain in the ass is back, carrying one drink and a bottle of beer.
But as I’m about to prepare for my acid comeback, he hands me the drink and it’s a daiquiri, which happens to be my favorite and what I’ve been drinking all night.
I look suspiciously between him and the glass. “You poisoned it, didn’t you?”
A small curve of his lips is all I get in return. “Ladies first.” He nods at the table before leaning back against the wall behind him, never taking his eyes from me. I take a deep sip before I put away my glass.
I pocket the blue-striped ball. As I turn to face my one-man audience, I catch the flash in his eyes. Didn’t expect this, did he? I lift an eyebrow, waiting for my answer.
“She doesn’t like it. The food.”
My eyes grow wide, and I take the few steps up to him while his eyes quickly slip over my legs up to my face. “That’s your answer? ‘She doesn’t like it’?” I snort a humorless laugh. I knew this was a bad idea. He’s an ass.
His look is teasing—he’s not even trying to hide how much he enjoys messing with me. I’m the idiot who agreed to this. I shake my head, put the cue in its rack, and turn to leave.
A warm hand grips mine, and I pull it back as if I just got burned. He comes closer, standing an inch away from me and forcing me to tilt back my head to meet his eyes.
“You know what, I really don’t have time for this.” I prepare to leave again.
“Red bag. Ridiculously cute black dog on it. That’s the one I had at home. That’s the one she’s been eating for the last month.”
Well, that’s not the one I bought. My bag was green, with a ridiculously cute gray dog on it. I watch him closely, trying to decide if he’s still shitting me. After a few silent seconds—well, not silent with some tone-deaf person singing “Ironic” at the other end of the room—I nod.
I take another sip before I grab the cue again. The red-striped ball hits the pocket. “Your wife. Why isn’t she here with you tonight?”
He hesitates, contemplating something. “I guess she’s not as fond of karaoke nights as I am,” he finally says.
“So, where is she? Home preparing your dinner?”
He shakes his head. “That’s not how this works. One ball, one question. Pay attention to the rules, Collins.”
I realize my question was bad, and my mood doesn’t get any better when I miss the next shot. Benjamin displays a crooked smile.
A solid ball hits a pocket with a thud. The green eyes glint. “How long will you stay here?”
I take another sip. “Well, I guess they close around twelve-thirty, so probably before that?”
Benjamin’s eyes don’t let go of me. Heat gathers under my skin, and I do my best to ignore the way my body feels under his gaze. “You know what I mean.”
I inhale deeply. “I’m not sure. I’m off work for six weeks.”
A curious frown grows between his brows. “Why are you off work?”
I give him an angelic smile. “Pay attention to the rules, please,” I say and circle the table. He half-smirks back at me.
I lean over the table, and Benjamin misses his next shot. I don’t. I pause to think.
“Why veterinarian?”
He takes a breath, and I raise my finger. “Honesty,” I remind him. I see he’s fighting a smile and realize I was right—he was about to lie.
“Because animals love unconditionally.”
“You sure?”
A lopsided smile. “Rules, Collins.”
I empty my glass before I make my next shot. I look up and smile when Iris shouts in the microphone: “June, where are you? This one is for youuu.” And then starts singing “New York, New York”. I wave at her, and she throws me a kiss. We’re both kind of drunk now, I think.
“The game, Collins,” Benjamin says and snaps me back. I smirk.
“You know you’re going to lose, right?”
“It’d be a first.” His lips curve.
I bend over the table and line up the shot. Miss. Wow, I really am drunk. It’s been a while since I drank this much. Benjamin comes closer. Our elbows brush as he passes me, and electricity sizzles up my arm. His skin felt soft. Okay, I’m way more drunk than I thought.
He pockets his ball and leans back at the table with his green—almost hazel now—eyes on me. He looks like a cat playing with its prey. I’m apparently the prey.
I cross my legs and rest against the cue while I wait for his question. His gaze searches my face. It travels over my mouth. My eyes. My mouth. My eyes. I roll my eyes and pretend to check the time on my non-existent watch.
“Why are you off work?”
I knew it was coming. I take a deep breath, refusing to show him how uncomfortable that question is making me. “Because my godmother died.”
He stands and comes closer, inspecting me. No, he can’t possibly know I lied. He doesn’t know me. He’s so close, I can feel the warmth from his body. It’s making me shiver. He lowers his head to my ear, and I can almost feel his lips brushing against it. “I don’t believe you.”
I turn my head slightly, his face so close to mine that he’s all I can breathe. His hair looks soft. “I don’t care,” I whisper back to him. Neither of us moves. I could walk away now. I’ve got the answer I wanted. But I don’t want to. I want to win this.
I take a step back, and Benjamin straightens. He misses his next shot, and for the first time since we started this game, he looks frustrated. As if this isn’t like him. He doesn’t look drunk, but maybe he is?
“Not going according to plan, Reyes?” I smile sweetly. He doesn’t reply. I walk around the table, considering my options and sensing his eyes following me. I’m feeling dizzier now, the previous drinks making sure I haven’t forgotten about them. Thank you, guys.
I narrow my eyes at the table.
“Giving up already, Collins?”
I glare up at him. “You wish.”
I aim for the shot. I have this game in my hands now. If I concentrate, it’ll soon be over.
And that’s when it hits me. The nausea. And it’s bad. Really bad. I take a deep breath. Then another one.
“Nervous?” I hear his voice but I’m unable to focus on it. It’s from somewhere far away. I take another deep breath. It doesn’t help. And I realize now that if I don’t hurry, Jake will have to buy a new pool table.
I put down the cue stick and rush for the restrooms, one hand covering my mouth. Cold but hot shivers travel up and down my spine like an elevator. I’m sweating, but I’m freezing. Please, don’t let me puke here. Not in front of this self-satisfied man.
I jerk open the door and throw myself inside, managing to reach the toilet the second before the first vomit escapes my mouth. Oh my god. I bend over the toilet, feeling my entire body convulsing.
I hear the door open. Fuck, I forgot to lock it. “It’s busy!” I say but have to interrupt myself when my stomach turns again. The door locks, and soon I feel a hand around my ponytail, saving it from the next vomit. “Please lea—”
“Hush.” A deep, too familiar voice.
Oh, no. Of all people. Not him. Please, don’t let it be him.
But it is. And right now, I’m unable to do anything about it.
My body cramps again. “Please, go,” I mumble.
The hand disappears from my hair, and I exhale in relief.
But instead of a door opening and closing, I feel a damp, cold paper towel on my neck.
He pats me carefully with it and I must admit, it feels so nice.
With a new stomach twist, I bend over the toilet again, making everything—including my unwanted guest—dissolve.
A strong hand around my arm keeps me steady, another one keeps my hair safe.
I puke again, certain all my organs soon will follow.