Page 59 of Reaching Avery
Chapter Sixteen
Avery
I’d never played pool before, but I’d picked up quite a bit as an observer. Maverick tended to use a kind of intimidation technique to distract Ben while playing, behaving more confident than he probably was to get under his opponent’s skin.
Well, it didn’t work on me. Once I’d discovered how he played dirty, I’d decided to do the same.
And it was strange to admit, but I found myself really enjoying it: the hanging out, the competition, being around Mav. Just all of it. My nerves were still present, but not as severe as they had been when we’d first arrived.
“Man, Avery.” Maverick shook his head as he looked at the table. “Never thought I’d say this, but you are kicking my ass this game.”
He’d won the first game, but I’d gotten better the second time around. I had one ball left, and he had two. So it wasn’t atotalbutt-kicking. Yet.
Ben sat behind us, munching on some chili fries. I kept looking back at him, and he’d give me a thumbs-up with chili stained fingers.
I looked at Mav. “Afraid your title will be taken from you, big guy?”
The corners of Mav’s blue eyes crinkled. “Not today, short stuff.”
It was almost easy to forget about the former awkwardness between us: the unexpected kiss, the punch, and then the week of little communication following it. Even as we stood across from each other, playing a game and having a great time, an unspoken barrier separated us.
I didn’t know what we were doing, what he wanted, or if we could even be friends after what happened.
“You okay?” Maverick asked as his brow dipped in the middle.
Damn. There was so much concern in his eyes too.
“Yeah,” I answered. “Is it my turn?”
He nodded, but his face remained guarded, as if he could tell I was full of crap.
Focusing on my last ball, I bent down and gently tapped the cue ball. The solid was pocketed, but so was the white ball. A freaking scratch, so it was Maverick’s turn. Not surprising, he knocked the rest of his in, and then went for the eight ball. However, he missed.
Maverick’s sapphire eyes flickered to mine, and he looked so sexy that I momentarily forgot where we were. Heck, I probably forgot my own name.
“Call a pocket,” he said, and his voice was deeper. Raspier.
Or maybe I just imagined it because my whole body was buzzing with sexual tension.
“Um,” I said before clearing the lump in my throat. “This one.” I tapped the middle left pocket with the stick.
“Let’s see what you got,” Maverick said with a sly smile.
After taking a deep breath, I lined up my shot. My hands shook, which made the stick wobble a bit. I didn’t hit the cue ball hard enough, so it moved just a few inches and tapped the eight ball. Of course.
“Wow, Avery,” Ben said before giving a slow clap. “That was bloody brilliant.”
“Shut up,” I said, looking back at him. “At least I made it to the eight ball unlike someone I know.”
Ben laughed before messing with his red hair. “Dude. Point taken.”
Maverick took his next turn after calling the pocket, and he made the eight ball in. But he also scratched, so I won. It didn’t feel like a real victory, though. Kind of like winning a talent show just because you were the only one that showed up or something. A win by default.
“Good game,” Maverick said, reaching to touch my back, but stopping before he made contact. He withdrew his hand and shoved it in his pocket instead. “Wanna go again?”
“Actually,” Ben said, hopping out of the chair and nearing us. “I need to head home. My parents don’t like me out past nine.”
“On a Saturday?” Maverick questioned.
