Page 81 of Betting on the Bad Boy
I racked the balls, and Dante sent the cue ball slamming into the triangle, sinking a stripe. He proceeded to pocket two more before he miscalculated the angle on an attempt to put the nine ball in the corner, opening up the table to me.
I took my time, bending over and assessing my options before deciding to bank the two ball and put it in the side.
“Nice shot.”
I looked at him over my shoulder, flipping my hair and leaning down in front of him, my full attention captured by the tricky combination laid out in front of me. He was pretty good at this. Better up my game. Three more solids fell in quick succession before Dante got to take another shot.
He sank the other four stripes and called the eight in the corner.
Stunned, I reached down to pick up a few of the balls and put them back on the table. “No fair. I need a rematch.”
He shrugged. “Fine. But if you’re going to flaunt yourself in front of me like that, I’m going to need something to drink.”
“Winner breaks?” I asked, already racking the balls.
He stepped behind the bar and filled a highball glass halfway with a single malt scotch. “Sure, your rules this round.” He walked around the table and leaned over to break, failing to pocket a single ball.
I sized up my options before I stretched over the table, lifted a foot off the ground and put a stripe in the corner. Then I proceeded to run the next four stripes before he got a chance to take a shot. He sank two solids, and I ran the rest of the table, pocketing the eight ball in the corner, right in front of him.
“Nice game, Faith.”
“Thanks. I should probably get going.”
“You can’t leave it in a tie. Besides, it’s almost midnight. We’re one-to-one now. Don’t you want to know who’s the best?”
My competitive side wouldn’t let me walk away from a challenge. “Okay, one more game.”
“I think we need some new rules this round.” He stepped over to where I stood against the table and set his glass down on the edge.
“Oh yeah, like what?”
“You’ve heard of strip poker, of course.”
CHAPTER 40
Faith
I laughed.“I am so not playing strip pool with you. Just forget it.”
He took a slow sip of his drink. “Fine. I guess I’ll just go down as the undisputed champion.”
“What? It’s a tie.”
He put a finger up against my lips. “Shhh. I offered you a chance to redeem yourself. I guess we’ll just never know who the real winner is.”
“You’ve got to be joking.” He really had to be joking. Anyone walking by would be able to see right into the bar. I might be up for another round, but I wasn’t going to turn into an exhibitionist.
“If you’re that confident, you shouldn’t have anything to worry about. Hell, if you play like you did the last round, you’d barely lose a sock.”
“But the window, anyone could see in.”
“The bar’s closed. Who would walk by the front window at this hour?”
A shiver ran through me. What if the person who left a note for me caught a glimpse of Dante and me together?
“You can forfeit.” He shrugged and walked toward the front windows, lowering the blinds.
“Fine, I’m in. What are the rules?”
