Page 126 of The Trade

“No, you fucker.” He playfully smacks me on the back of the head, his tone lightening. “This is about you. It’s been about you for months.”

A muscle in my jaw ticks. “The hell does that mean?”

“It means you’ve been torn up over this girl for a long-ass time. You’ve been ignoring your friends, staying in all the time, and acting like your world has ended when you’re only twenty-one years old, for God’s sake. Our lives have just fucking begun.”

“I know I’ve been MIA, and I’m sorry for that,” I say. “It’s just been rough.”

“So, what do you say? Let’s go out tonight. You can try and forget about everything, even if it’s just for the night.”

His question hangs in the air between us, heavy and imposing. Do I want to forget Jade? Could I, even if I tried?

The thought makes my heart twinge with pain. Sure, moving on from my feelings for her in a span of two weeks isn’t realistic. But constantly obsessing over her isn’t healthy either. Especially when she’s explicitly told me not to. I think it’s about high time I let myself breathe.

“Maybe,” I finally concede, meeting his gaze. “Maybe just for tonight.”

A grin spreads across his face. “Then let’s go get shitfaced at Lucky’s.” He gives my shoulder a firm pat. “We don’t have practice until four o’clock tomorrow.”

“Yeah, alright.” The heaviness in my chest lifts slightly as I push off the couch. “I’m down.”

It doesn’t take long for Cam and me to turn our favorite bar into our personal playground. We go shot for shot like the old days, the alcohol burning my throat and dulling the edges of my heartache.

By the time we’re six or seven drinks deep, we’ve roped in a couple of guys from the baseball team for a game of pool. We’re swaying slightly, half-drunk already, but we’re laughing and enjoying ourselves. It’s the first time in weeks I’ve let myself genuinely smile.

Maybe Cam was right; maybe tonight I could forget, just a little.

As I’m lining up my last shot, two girls approach the table. “Hey, boys, can we play next round?” the taller of the two asks, interrupting my perfect line of sight.

“Sure, we’re just about to bring it home anyway,” Cam says with a chuckle. His cocky smile is as wide as the table. “After that, table’s all yours.”

The two girls exchange glances, a mixture of mischief and daring in their eyes. “Actually, we were hoping you two might show us the ropes.” I allow my gaze to wander over my shoulder, taking in the sight of them cozying up to Cam like it’s second nature.

“You cool with that, West?” Cam calls out, eyes glinting.

“Sure,” I say absently, refocusing my gaze on the eight ball. With a flick of the wrist and a satisfying clunk, I pocket it. Victory.

Our win is met with a chorus of half-hearted cheers. The baseball guys retreat, leaving us with the two newcomers. One, a bottle blonde, seems more interested in Cam than the game. The other, a dark-haired girl with an edgy pixie cut, leans on the pool table, her eyes on me.

“So, West. Do you remember me?” Her question comes with a purposeful tilt of her head and a bat of her eyelashes. “We met here a while back.”

I squint at her, my brain sifting through countless faces I’ve met at this bar before a spark of recognition hits me. “Uh ...” I hesitate. “Zoë, right?”

She looks visibly taken aback, maybe even offended. “No? My name’s Niah.”

“Cool,” I manage, nodding slightly.

She steps closer, biting her lip with a certain calculated charm. “Do you think you could show me how to shoot?”

Ah, classic move. “You’ve never played before?”

“Once or twice.” She shrugs, a coy smile playing on her lips. “I might need a little refresher.”

Taking my place beside her, I guide her through the sequence, adjusting her grip and stance. When she executes a flawless stroke, breaking the rack and sinking two stripes immediately, I can’t help but be impressed.

“That wasn’t just beginner’s luck, was it?” I raise a brow, smirking as she shrugs casually, leaning her cue stick against the table.

“Sorry, no.” She seems amused. “I guess I just wanted an excuse for you to touch me.”

I blink at her. “You played me,” I accuse, glancing around to find that Cam and his blonde companion have conveniently disappeared.

---