Page 101 of Force Play

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Her form is all wrong, though.

So I do what any man would do when he’s clearly not thinking straight—I help her.

“You’re not going to get a good break when you’re shooting like that,” I say before leaning on top of her to help her set up her shot.

It’s something out of a cliché romance novel, right down to the way my heart starts beating faster.

She lets me reposition her before looking up at me. “So, like this?”

“Yeah,” I rasp, swallowing hard. “Just like that. Now, pull your right arm back and push it forward.”

Lucia does what I said and cheers when she gets a good break. “Ah! It worked!”

When she cheers, though, she accidentally rams the top of her stick into my cheekbone. “Ow!”

“Oh shit!” she gasps. “Are you okay, Ari?!”

I might be in a bit of pain, but I can’t help but start laughing. “Note to self: don’t trust Lucia with a pool stick.”

She stomps her foot and huffs. “It’s not like you’re supposed to be behind me when I’m shooting!”

“I was trying to help you,” I smile. “Didn’t want you to give everyone a concussion.”

Lucia groans and throws her head back. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hit you. Are you okay?” She lightly rubs her thumb over the area she hit. “Shit, it’s already turning red.”

“You can always kiss it better, sweetheart.”

She rolls her eyes but leans in anyway, gently pressing her lips against my cheek. “Better?”

“Yeah,” I breathe. “Better.”

But I don’t think it is.

I asked my roommate to kiss my cheek under the guise of it helping me.

And I don’t know why I did that.

I need another damn beer.

Another beer actually turns into several, and by the time we’re ready to leave the bar, I’m practically stumbling over my own feet. The guys help me into the Uber they called, and we all get back to the hotel relatively unscathed.

The guys saw when Lucia hit me with her stick… and they saw her kiss my cheek after. The only reason they haven’t talked to me about it is because Lucia’s been with us all night, so they haven’t had the chance.

That, and I’m drunk off my ass.

They help me up to my room while Lucia trails behind them.

“Can you get your key card, Ari?” Cole asks. “I don’t really want to grope you to do it myself.”

“I’ve got it,” I say.

Well, I think that’s what I say. But based on the looks I’m getting, it didn’t come out that coherently.

“I can help,” Lucia pipes in, stepping forward now. She slips her hand into the back pocket of my jeans and grabs my wallet before sliding my key card out. When she puts my wallet back, her hand brushes over my ass.

“Not in front of our friends, Luc,” I slur with a dopey smile on my face.

“You’re plastered, Ari. I’m not coming on to you.” She waves the key over the sensor, and my door unlocks. “I can get him from here, guys. I’ll make sure he has some water and ibuprofen for when he wakes up. And a bucket to vomit in.”