Page 110 of Can't Text This

I look up at the billiards pub. It’s a rundown-looking building in the middle of a nearly deserted strip mall. There are a few groups of people sitting around outside at tables, smoking cigarettes, sipping beers, and laughing.

While this isn’t a place I’d normally step foot in, I’m eager to see what’s inside.

“I’ve never played pool before,” I tell him.

“Good. I’ll teach you.”

He places his hand on the small of my back and steers us toward the entrance.

The first thing I notice is this certain smell to the building, like there have been way too many cigarettes smoked inside in the past, but it’s not entirely unpleasant. The carpets are worn and the lighting is dim, but it’s not as unkempt as I thought it would be.

We slide into two chairs at the wide-open bar, most of the patrons occupying the many pool tables scattered about the building.

“Do you mind if I get a beer?”

“Just because I’m not a big drinker doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy yourself. I don’t mind. But, fair warning, I’ll be taking your keys when we leave, even if you only have one beer.”

He reaches into his pocket and hands me the keys. “Two things. One, it’s stupid sexy how responsible you are. Two, it’s a good goddamn thing we didn’t take my bike then.”

“I’m sorry, you have amotorcycle?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“I’ve always wanted to go on one. We should have taken that.”

“I wasn’t sure how you’d react,” he says honestly. “But noted for our next date, because therewillbe another one.”

I smile as the bartender appears in front of us.

“Hey, good to see you, Robbie. You want your usual on draft and an hourly table?”

“Please, Not Pam. That’d be great.”

“Anything for you, love?” she asks me.

“No, thank you.”

She nods and scurries off to grab Robbie’s beer.

I turn to him. “Not Pam?”

“You ever seeThe Office?”

“Bits and pieces here and there.”

“Remember the secretary? The one Jim’s in love with? Pam?”

“Vaguely.”

“Well she looks nearly identical to her.”

“No way,” I protest.

He slides his phone from his pocket and taps the screen a few times before turning it my way.

“See, that’s her.”

I peer at the image, looking back and forth between the actress on the screen and the bartender standing right in front of me, Robbie’s beer in her outstretched hand.

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