Page 6 of The New Guy
And suddenly I can picture it way too clearly. Those strong hands pulling my T-shirt over my head. And me, kissing that crooked smile off his face.
“…But you turn your body too much at the same time,” he says, briefly tapping one finger against my back. “Square your body to the table the whole time, so that when you leave the backhand position, the angle is still good.”
“Okay,” I say uselessly as he moves my arm again. But I’ve lost my train of thought completely.
“See what I mean?” Gavin asks.
Instead of answering, I turn my head to look over my shoulder at him. His face is just inches away, and his eyes widen slightly. Like he can’t believe I went there.
“You got any other tricks you want to show me?” I ask quietly.
The next few seconds seem to last forever. In the first place, I can’t believe I’m doing this. And Gavin is a little off-kilter, too. He’s clearly interested. But still, he hesitates.
I’m holding my breath now, afraid that he’ll turn me down. And also afraid that he won’t.
Slowly, he licks his lips, and drops my wrist. But he doesn’t step back. If anything, he leans a fractional degree closer. “Yeah,” he says under his breath. “I think I do.”
Wellthatgot heated fast. Go me.
And I don’teverdo this. I must have lost my mind, picking up a guy in a bar where my team hangs out on the regular. So I need to downshift. “Let's finish the game,” I whisper. “Want to put five bucks on it?”
“Sure,” he says with a slow smile. “Only five?”
“Well, I've been holding back a little.”
He laughs, and the sound of it is bright with promise. “Really? Why?” The question comes out sounding flirty. “Trying to flatter me?”
I shrug, suddenly embarrassed. But that’s exactly what I’ve done. I’m in the mood to live a little. And by live a little, I mean take this guy home and strip his clothes off. It’s been a long time since I had such a reckless urge.
It’s beenyears.
But I’m pretty sure he wants me just as much as I want him. We’re gazing at each other in a way that dudes in a bar just don’t usually do.
Notthisbar anyway.
Fuck. This is a bad idea. I drop my gaze, even though I don’t want to.
Gavin moves back to his end of the table so we can finish the game. He taps his paddle on the table to let me know he’s ready. “Bring it, man. Do your worst.”
“All right. You asked for it.” I take a breath that’s meant to cool me down. And then I serve up a blazing fast ball, diagonally across the table.
Gavin returns it with a stroke so fast that it’s almost invisible to the human eye.
I’d laugh, except I’m too busy yanking my paddle toward the ball. I get my shot off, but just barely. And he returns it again like gunfire.
“Jesus,” I gasp as I dive for it. But this time he smokes me and takes the point.
I’m thinking I might be out five dollars. He hustled me. But I’m going to go down fighting.
THREE
Gavin
I haven’t hadthis much fun in alongtime. Hudson is a playful opponent with quick reflexes and a knowing smile which he deploys after every point.
Even though I’m winning. In fact, the match is evolving into a blowout. But something tells me this guy doesn’t want me to take it easy on him.
Still, that doesn’t mean it has to end too quickly. So I draw each volley out, testing his reflexes, upping the ante until we’re both laughing and a little breathless. He ekes a point or two, but usually I ace him before he can find a way to get past me.
