“Pool sounds great as long as you’re ready to lose.”
I toss a hand on my hip. “What am I, chopped liver?”
“Of course not, honey, but you’re not our guest.”
“I don’t live here. Shouldn’t that make me a guest?”
“You’re our daughter. That means you don’t count.”
My mouth falls open, and Dad chuckles. “I’m just teasing you, Ol. You know what I mean. You always count.”
The Astros get three outs in only five pitches, ending the game abruptly, and we all head into the spare room for a game of pool.
“What do you think of men versus women?” Dad suggests.
“But Mom sucks, and I’m rustier than that truck you have sitting out in the driveway.”
“You take that back!” Dad shouts, a smile still on his face. “That thing is my baby, and it’ll run someday. I swear.”
“Your dad has been giving me lessons.” Mom’s eyes flit to dad for support. “I might surprise you.”
“I’m sorry, Mandi. You still suck. We can do you and me versus Olivia and Rhett.”
I glance at Rhett and catch him wincing.Jeez, what did I do to him to make him so upset with me?
“Go ahead and break, Jack.”
Dad sets up and nails the ball perfectly, managing to send two solids into the pocket.
Rhett grabs a cue and walks around the table, assessing the balls carefully before setting up. As he places one hand down on the table to hold the pole steady and pulls his other arm back, his triceps flex, on full display for my enjoyment. He stabs the cue ball and sends two balls in opposite directions, somehow pocketing both.Of course he’s good at pool! It wasn’t enough for him just to look good while doing it.
In line with my expectations, Mom takes her turn and completely misses the ball. I’d say she didn’t even try to aim, except that she spent a solid two minutes lining up the ball, closing one eye and sticking her tongue out before striking the cue ball.
When it’s my turn, I waltz around the table, determining the best move to make. I can feel Rhett’s gaze on me, but I try not to let it distract me. I strike the ball, and when I just barely miss, I throw my head back, groaning.
Dad just chuckles as he quickly sneaks in and knocks two more balls in. Rhett counters with one, and my mom once again does very little to contribute to her team. We go around the rotation a couple times until we are down to one ball for Mom and Dad and two for Rhett and me.
I rub some chalk on the end of the cue and start to line up. Before I can go, Rhett places both hands on my waist, tugging me gently back. I swivel around to look at him. When I come chest to chest with him, my breath catches, and I can’t help but wonder if my parents can also feel the crackling electricity in the air between us right now.
“What’re you doing?” I whisper.
“I wouldn’t go for that one.” He tilts his head as he moves to the other end of the table and points to a purple-striped ball. “This is the one.”
“Are you sure?”
“Definitely. Line it up and see for yourself.”
I do as he says, and again, he stops me before I can hit the ball. “You look off-center.”
“What do you mean? How can you tell?”
“Line up again.”
As I do, he leans over me from behind, guiding me to adjust my setup slightly to the left. I’d like to say I can feel the difference in what he’s showing me, but all I’m aware of right now is the way his whole body is wrapping me up and setting me on fire.
“Now go,” he whispers in my ear, covering my arms in goosebumps before he pulls back from me.
I hit the cue ball, and it stops immediately when it strikes the ball I’m aiming for. The ball shoots into the pocket, and I jump up and down hollering. “I did it!”
