Page 55 of Reaching Avery
Chapter Fifteen
Maverick
An eternity had passed since I’d gotten to really talk to Avery. Okay, yeah, maybe I was over-exaggerating because it’d only been a week, but it felt like an eternity since the night we were by the railroad tracks, talking about life and trying to understand the strange, yet amazing, connection between us.
A connection he admittedly felt too—if not with words than in the way his breathing had quickened at my closeness and how his eyes had focused on my lips. The way his body angled toward mine, probably without him even realizing it.
Most guys would’ve taken the punch to the face as a hint, but I felt there was more than what met the eye. Averydidlike me. I felt it.
Something was holding him back.
As I drove toward the place we were meeting, I drummed my fingers on the steering wheel to the beat of the rock song on the radio.
We’d made plans to go to the pool hall that night, and I was crazy excited. One, I was pretty awesome at pool, and two, I hadn’t gotten out and had fun with friends in a while. Not since Chris had left and I’d gone through all the motions of a failing relationship and the depression that went with it.
When I arrived at the hall, I wasn’t surprised to see the parking lot full. Mostly adults went there, but it was a popular hangout for teenagers and college students too. Everyone was there that night. I hunted for a parking spot, not liking my odds. Luckily, someone had just pulled out, and I snatched that one before getting out of my car.
Ben and Avery were riding together, so I walked inside to get us a table.
Once inside, the smell of burgers and fries hit me, as did the sound of clanking pool balls, rumbling laughs, and scattered conversations. One half of the place was a bar—yeah I wasn’t allowed in that area—but they also sold food, so there were tables. Pool tables were spread throughout the room, and smaller tables were placed beside them so people had a place to hang out and talk until it was their turn to play.
The atmosphere was awesome. And familiar.
As I scanned the place, my eyes stopped on the pool table in the corner of the room, the one beside the jukebox. Chris and I’d gone there a lot together, and that had been our table.
An image of him holding the pool stick in one hand and tapping his sparkly silver nails on the top of the table with the other as he decided his next move came into my head. He’d always looked so cute when he’d done things like that.
“Mav, your balls are in my way,” he’d said before snarling his lip at me. “I can’t get a clear shot.”
I had intentionally set up my last turn to where he’d have a hard time finding a good shot. Pool was all about thinking ahead. Yeah, I played dirty sometimes.
“Sorry, babe,” I’d responded with a smug grin. “I thought you liked my balls.”
Chris had tried to huff, but he’d ended up smiling. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”
The memory stung, and I realized that maybe I wasn’t as over him as I’d thought.
There’s no way I wanted that same table, so I searched for another. Every table was taken. On one side of the room, there were a few steps that led up to a higher section, and I decided to try my luck up there. A dart board was up there, as were four tables, so it was worth a shot at least.
Two guys were packing up their sticks—the hall provided them, but sometimes people brought their own, especially if they were in any leagues.
“You guys leaving?” I asked after walking up to them. Dumb question, obviously, but still.
“Yeah, man,” the taller one said, peering down at me with a side smile. “You want the table?”
“That’d be great,” I answered. “It’s packed in here tonight.”
“Very packed,” he responded, still with that same smile. His eyes were such a light blue, they looked gray. “Good thing you caught us when you did.”
Maybe I was mistaken, but it seemed like he was giving off flirty vibes. However, I had to remind myself that I’d thought Avery had been giving those off too, so maybe I wasn’t the best judge of that.
His friend looked at him before turning back to me. And his expression was harsh. “How old are you? Like twelve? Your parents here too?”
Yikes, I smell jealousy.
“Seventeen, actually,” I said, straightening to my full height, which was just a tad taller than him. “Not that that matters to play pool. I could probably still kick your ass even if I was twelve.”
The flirty one chuckled before putting his hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Don’t mind him. He always gets a little weird around cute guys. Can I get you a beer?”
