Page 55 of Sweet Shots

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Emmet mutters, going to the cooler to pull out two beers. He pops the tops off before sliding them across the bar and moving on to other people down the end. It’s not too crowded, but it’s busy for a Wednesday.

We grab our beers, Dominic takes my hand, linking our fingers, and pulls me to the other end of the bar where there is a jukebox playing classic rock and two pool tables, both taken up by a bunch of guys. There are a handful of tall tables back here to sit at. Dominic goes to an empty one and puts his beer atop it.

“I tell everyone Emmet is my brother, sometimes stepbrother,” he comments.

“He’s not?”

“Foster brother, but I don’t like the looks and questions I get when I tell people that. They assume my parents were shitty and unfit, and that’s not what happened at all.”

“You don’t have to explain yourself to me.”

“After making a big deal about lying, I think I do.”

I put my hand on top of his, meeting his gaze. “You don’t. I understand.”

And I do. It’s just easier. The lie isn’t meant to hurt, it’s meant to protect.

He turns his hand over, palm up, and we link our fingers again. He brings my hand up to his mouth and kisses the back of it. It’s sweet and has me feeling a little awkward. I’ve never done the PDA thing before. Never really had a boyfriend to do it with. I clear my throat, pull my hand back, and pick up my beer. I feel him staring at me, smiling, like he knows he’s making me uncomfortable. It seems to be his favorite thing.

“You play pool?” he asks, gesturing to the tables.

“Nope.” I take a swig of beer.

“Because you don’t know how?”

“Because I suck at it, and I’m already out of my comfort zone.”

He chuckles, sipping his beer.

“Dominic!” someone calls, and we’re joined by one of the guys who was playing pool at the furthest table.

I only recognize him because he’s wearing a bright pink shirt. Now that he’s facing me, I see it says, “This is your sister’s shirt,” in big block black letters, and that tells me all I need to know about this guy.

I don’t like him.

“Storm, how’s it going?” Dominic gets up to greet this guy, grasping his hand and going in for one of those weird bro hugs. It makes my skin itchy.

“Not bad. How about you?”

“Same shit, you know?”

“I heard one of your videos was nominated at MAIF,” Storm says with a grin.

“Two, actually,” Dominic answers proudly, and it turns my stomach, seeing him smile at this guy. I don’t like it. He blinks, and when he opens his eyes, he’s looking at me, a sneaky smirk on his lips. I hold my glare, keeping my eyes on him.

Are you going to introduce me, asshole?

“That’s fucking awesome,” Storm says, smiling like an idiot. “Good luck. My buddy asked me to go as hisdate,but I won’t be here.”

His date.Meaning his buddy is a guy. Meaning Storm is gay. He knows about MAIF. He could be a creator, too. Have him and Dominic fucked? I don’t like the thought of it. They probably have. Hell, Dominic has probably fucked half of this city and the people surrounding it. What was I thinking, getting involved with him?

“You could fly up for the night,” Dominic suggests with a shrug.

Why? Because you want to see him again?

My blood is boiling. I’m going to explode. The rushing sound in my ears is so loud I can hardly make out the music and their conversation sounds underwater.

“Hey, this is my boyfriend,” Dominic finally says, but I’m fuming so badly I can’t even force a smile.

---