Chapter 9 #2
Somehow, I’ve ended up the villain in her story.
We started off on the wrong foot and it’s snowballed from there.
She’s got an idea of me in her head and I’m not sure how to change it.
Or if I even should—because the way she keeps playing on my mind has me wondering if I might just be better off keeping her at arm’s length.
I have too much at stake this year to be distracted by a nice smile and a pair of pretty eyes.
Luke and Griffin chat my ear off about last night’s Oilers game, and I sip my drink as I nod along.
Later, when my eyes dart across the bar, I spot Tanner and Lauren at the game area in the back. Daisy is beside them, running her fingers over the pool table while Ollie hands her a cue.
I excuse myself from the game chat and slide out of the booth, and then I’m halfway across the bar. I step up behind Tanner and Ollie, who’s fighting over who gets to play the first round. I snatch the spare cue from the hook on the wall before either of them can notice.
“Looks like you’re playing me,” I tell her, moving around the guys and ignoring their complaints. “I hope you can keep up.”
She glances over her shoulder, tensing when she sees how close I’m standing to her, but her smile only drops a fraction. I take that as a win. “You’re awfully confident.”
“Maybe I have reason to be.” I hum, earning myself an eyeroll. “What are we playing for?”
She tips her head, pretending to think about it, but it only takes her a second to answer. “If I win, you have to take your hookups somewhere else.”
Easy. Already done—not that I’ve even been thinking about hooking up with anyone else since she came knocking on my door.
“Are you calling for the apartment to be a hanky panky–free zone?” She spins, getting ready to leave, but my hand on her wrist stops her. “Okay. No hookups at home, got it.”
She crosses her arms over her chest. I like the way she faces off against me, or maybe I just like her attention on me. “And what if you win?”
“Then you wear my jersey to our next game.” The request slips free, lingers in the air between us. People wear my jersey all the time, but for some reason the thought of her in it makes my skin tingle.
She raises a brow. “Who says I’m going to another one of your games?”
“That’s in the wager too,” I tell her, and she rolls her eyes again. She looks three seconds away from telling me to fuck off. I lean closer, using my height as an advantage while I use the one card up my sleeve that I think will get her. “Unless you’re too scared to lose?”
She scoffs. “Fine.”
I beam at her, straightening. “You’re going to look good with my name on your back.”
“Mm, think again, pretty boy. I can’t wait to have quiet nights to myself again,” she throws back, and I laugh, feeling alive in a way that I haven’t in a long time.
I gesture toward the table and step back, giving her enough space to figure out her first move. “Ladies first.”
She carefully takes her aim, rounding the table and bending over to get the exact right angle.
I’m too busy trying not to notice the way her white top rides up when she bends, exposing a small sliver of her skin.
Or the way that Tanner and Ollie very clearly notice from the table they’ve retreated to, sulking.
When she’s finally content, she aims and with one small flick of the cue she breaks the stack and sends two solids into the top right pocket.
“You’re so toast, McKibben,” Tanner calls as Daisy sends another solid into the middle pocket. I blink at her while she moves around the table with quiet determination. And I realize he’s right—I’m so cooked.
When it’s finally my turn, Daisy has already cleared half of her color. She grins up at me when I move to the table, looking so self-satisfied that I almost give in right there and then. Almost.
I line up my cue and take my aim. She snickers behind me when I send my first attempt straight into the borders, narrowly missing the pocket before it bounces back toward the middle of the table.
“Are you sure you’ve played this game before?” she teases when I step aside to let her take her shot. I roll my lips between my teeth to stifle my smile, because even though I’m losing I’m loving every bit of it knowing I finally got her to stop scowling at me.
“I’m just letting you get an easy start,” I lie.
“I’ll let you believe that for another round, if it makes you feel better about losing,” she says, then sinks the rest of her solids straight into the pockets. She turns to face me, brows raising. “You up for it?”
“I think I’ll pass, Tulip.”
“You know what that means, right?” She beams.
I nod, dragging my thumb across my bottom lip. “A promise is a promise.”
Maybe I should be more upset about it, but I don’t have time to consider it as she ditches her cue on the table and shimmies her way to the girls.
The next thing I know, they’re heading straight for the bar, shouting something about getting shots on my tab.
And all I can do is watch her; my bottom lip trapped between my teeth in an effort to keep my smile in place when she looks back over her shoulder at me and winks.
I stride back to our table, feeling like a winner all the same.