Page 93 of Lily In The Valley
Maverick leaned over the table, sizing up his shot. “Move out the way and let somebody with aim take a shot.” Maverick hit the bullseye three times in a row.
Wesley scoffed. “I don’t need to throw a football when my arm signs multi-million-dollar contracts just fine.”
We laughed. It felt good. Simple. Until I heard that voice.
“Well, well, well. If it ain’t the three stooges.”
I turned.
Kelly.
Her smile could ruin mankind. Nyah stood next to her in a sage-green, oversized set, a cropped tank underneath. Lynn followed, all legs and attitude in a taupe knit sweater and suede skirt and polished brown boots.
Kelly strolled around, giving hugs to Maverick and Wesley. She had a white tee tucked under her breasts, just enough to show the curve of her waist. The skirt skimming over her hips did me in. Silky, leopard print hugged every inch like it’d been painted on. The red clutch tucked under her arm popped against the print. Her hair was slicked back into a low bun with two curled pieces framing her temples. She looked so good it hurt. I bit my lip to stifle the too wide smile threatening to cover my face.
Wesley did a double take. “Mmmm, Lady Lynn and her cackling hens.”
“And who exactly is that supposed to be?” Lynn asked flatly, balling up Wesley’s lips as she walked past him.
Maverick, who had just taken a swig of beer, paused, bottle still by his mouth.
Nyah looked over at him, one brow raised. “Maverick speechless? I’m shocked. You okay?”
He nodded quickly, wiping his mouth. “Yeah. Just… yeah, I’m straight.”
She gave him a slow smile. “Well, don’t make that a habit. I look forward to hearing the craziness that comes out of your mouth.”
I laughed into my bottle, taking a sip. Kelly caught my eye and held it. Just long enough to say everything she didn’t out loud. “Y’all joining us?” I asked.
“Depends,” she said. “You buying?”
“First round’s on me.”
That was enough.
An hour later, we had taken over the bar like a familiar storm. Pool balls clacked, laughter bounced off the walls, and our drinks kept disappearing as fast as they showed up.
Kelly leaned across the table to line up her shot, hips cocked just slightly, tongue between her teeth. My dick twitched thinking back to how she looked bent over while I hit it from the back. I took another swig of my beer, my mouth suddenly dry.
“You know if you scratch on this, it’s game over, right?” I teased, walking to the other side.
“I don’t scratch,” she said without looking at me.
And she didn’t. Sank the ball with a tap and a smirk.
“Show off,” I muttered.
“I learned from the best,” she said, sipping her drink.
Wesley posted up at a nearby table, mid-debate with Lynn.
“I’m just saying,” he insisted. “Drake is more relevant than Kendrick right now.”
Lynn rolled her eyes so hard it looked like she was trying to see the back of her skull.
“Why should I trust your prep school music knowledge? You thought I forgot how you and the lacrosse team used him as hype music in high school. Just white-washed.”
“Ouch,” Maverick said.
