Page 79 of Fake Shot

He dips his head and says, “I’ll teach you.” When he sees my doubtful look, he adds, “I think we established that it’sgood for you to try new things. Look how much fun you had golfing.”

“That wasn’t exactly golfing.” I laugh as we walk over to the pool tables in the back. Predictably, most of them are empty on this Sunday night. “It was more like hitting balls at an outdoor party.”

“Well, this won’t exactly be pool either, because I’m going to be playing on both teams.”

“So, speaking of trying new things,” I say, my lips pursing. “Maybe tonight should be the night I try having more than two drinks.”

“You think you should be making that decision when you’re already drinking?”

“Colt, I’ve only had two. And I don’t have to get up as early tomorrow as normal. Plus, there’s virtually no one here except our friends. And there are no twenty-four-hour wedding chapels nearby.”

“So those are your reasons to try drinking again?”

“No, those are my counterarguments. I’ve spent too many years letting one night of bad decisions affect my life. I just want to see what it’s like to be buzzed when I know I’m safe.”

“I’m a little nervous about you making this decision less than twenty-four hours after I made the offer, and with two drinks already in you.”

I stop in front of the rack of cue sticks lined up on the wall. Turning to look at him, I say, “I’m going to have a couple more drinks. Are you going to make sure I’m safe and don’t make any bad decisions, or not?”

“I’m always going to make sure you only makegooddecisions, Tink.”

I grab a pool cue off the wall, but Colt’s hand coversmine. “That one’s way too short for you. You need something longer.”

Lifting my margarita, I say, “That’s what she said,” before taking a sip.

His hand is on my hip as he steps in so close I have to look up to see his face, and now my old-fashioned glass with the salt rim rests along his pecs. “Trust me, no one’seversaid that to me.”

I feel my throat bob as I swallow down the longing with the sweet, tangy margarita. “Those women just had more of a filter than I do.”

“Bullshit, Tink.” Taking my drink, he sets it on the edge of the pool table before bringing his hand to the back of my head and threading his fingers into my hair. “You might have everyone else fooled, but no one has a stronger filter than you do. And it’s the things youdon’tsay that have me most curious.”

Goddamnit, why does he always have toseeme?

Trying to change the subject, I bat my eyelashes at him. “So, how long of a stick do I need, then?”

He presses his lips together to hold in his smile and raises an eyebrow. “I guess we’ll find out.” Turning me so I’m facing the wall where the pool cues are hung, he lifts one out of the stand and holds it up to me. “This will do.”

Then he takes one for himself, and I barely have a chance to grab my margarita before he pulls me over to the table in the back corner. The only light is the long one hanging over the table, and the angled shades ensure it only illuminates the green felt and barely anything beyond. We’re shrouded in darkness back here, and I’m certain that was his intention.

He sets our cue sticks on the table and then goes aboutracking the balls, the same way I used to see my dad do it at the bar down the street from our house. Audrey and I spent a lot of time there with him when Mom was sick, because of course that’s where an alcoholic takes two pre-teen girls on a Saturday afternoon. I never really enjoyed playing pool, but I’m a boss at darts.

Once the balls are racked, Colt steps up behind me, his feet spread on either side of mine. His hand lands on my hip, gripping it possessively—it feels like he’s always looking for a way to hold on to me.

That’s just wishful thinking,I remind myself. Because every time he’s not holding on to me, he’s pushing me away. It’s like he can’t make up his mind. We’re drawn to each other, no doubt, but he’s clearly unwilling to do anything about it because of some stupid promise he made to my brother. I have half a mind to just ask Jameson if he’d actually care if anything was happening between us, but I don’t want to potentially damage their friendship. That’s a conversation they need to have, when and if Colt’s ready to have it.

“I’m going to grab myself another drink before we start.” Colt’s words flow into my hair, sending a shiver down my neck and spine. “Do you want one?”

“Yeah. Let’s try the coconut margarita this time.”

“Sounds good. And I’ll make sure you don’t do anything crazy after drinking it.”

The only crazy things I want to do are with you.

“We’re stopping at four, no matter what.” I can remember how four drinks felt. I was happily buzzed at that point. But the bad decisions started right after that, because once I hit four, I felt like I should keep going, and going hard.

“No matter what.” He nods his agreement. “Let me go getus another round, and you can practice taking some shots with this white ball.” Reaching out, he picks it up off the table, tossing it in the air and catching it again. “I’ll leave the rack on the balls, so you don’t mess them up.”

When he heads to the bar, I glance over at the table where our friends are sitting, and Audrey is staring at me. Then she takes her phone out of her bag, taps it a few times, and mine buzzes in my pocket.

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