Page 43 of The Defender
“One, he was bullying my friend, and two, that was funny.”
“Not to that poor kid’s balls.”
“Then it’s a good thing they’re not part of this game.”
A small dimple creased his cheek. “Fair enough.” He chalked his pool cue and shrugged. “But if you want better secrets, you’ll have to earn them.”
Like most people, I needed motivation. Winning was a strong one, butnothingkicked my ass into gear like spite. If someone even hinted that I couldn’t do something, I’d run myself into the ground before I proved them right. That was true in school, at work, and now, with pool.
Fortunately, I was a fast learner. Vincent was still beating me by five points, but I held my own, and soon, we were trading secrets at a steady rhythm.
He told me he cheated on a math exam because his dad wouldn’t take him to a football match unless he got an A; I told him I asked my mom for a school fundraiser donation and used the money to buy a fake ID instead.
He told me he got attacked by a raccoon once during a trip to the States and had to get rabies shots; I told him I went to thewrong class my first day of college but was too embarrassed to leave, so I sat through an entire lecture on quantum physics.
“When I was fifteen, I babysat a neighbor’s kid and saw him take his first step,” Vincent said when it was his turn to share again. “After his parents came home, I said he wassoclose to walking so they should keep an eye out for it. He stood and walked up to them a few minutes later, and they freaked out. I never told them the truth.”
I stopped examining the table and looked at him. A pang hit my chest at the mental image he painted. “That was really nice of you.”
“It’s not a big deal.” He sounded a little embarrassed. “I just didn’t want to take the milestone away from them.”
The pang deepened. “It’s a big deal to them, even if they don’t know about it. Anyway.” I cleared my throat and nodded at his cue stick. “It’s your turn.”
As expected, he scored again. He’d had the perfect shot lined up.
I mulled over what secret to share. I’d used up most of the insignificant ones. I was staying far away from the topic of my family, so I settled on a tangential admission instead. “I initially majored in sports nutrition because my dad was—is—this legend in the sports world, and I guess it was a way to feel closer to him since we didn’t spend much time together when I was young.”
The words flowed out with surprising ease. We’d shared half a dozen secrets by now. They started off silly, but there was something about this moment that unraveled a deeper thread in me.
The room was a judgment-free zone, and despite our history of insults, I didn’t worry for a second that Vincent would weaponize what I told him in here.
“And now?” He watched me carefully. “How do you feel about it?”
“Now, I read nutrition blogs for fun and willingly spend my days working with footballers, so you tell me,” I said.
His chuckle made me smile in return.
Vincent and I resumed our shots. He notched a victory two turns later, but I couldn’t even be mad about it.
Somewhere along the way, it’d started being less about the game and more about the conversation.
“Congratulations. You now know more about me than anyone else in my life, including Scarlett.” Dry amusement gilded his voice.
“Wow.” I placed a hand over my chest. “I’m honored.”
“You should be. I don’t tell just anyone about my underwear-buying habits.”
“So what you’re saying is, I’m special.”
“That’s exactly what I’m saying.” Vincent sat on the edge of the table, his posture relaxed, but there was an undercurrent to his words. A slight intensity that lit up my nerves one by one like tiny campfires in the night.
My quippy response died halfway up my throat.
Without the game to distract me, I was agonizingly aware of his presence again. Of the electric thrum in the air and the hooded, almost sensual way his eyes held mine.
Don’t fall for it. It’s calculated.
Vincent had always been charming, even when he was being annoying, but the bet cast suspicion over all our interactions. Was the glimmer of attraction genuine, or was he simply trying to prove a point? He wanted me to admitIwanted him, but I couldn’t let him have the satisfaction, especially since it would never amount to anything.
