The cold shower I force myself to take is desperately needed.
I don’t know if I’ve ever seen anything more attractive than Sophie wearing nothing but that damn towel.
It was pure torture not to touch her. And the kiss…Fuck. It took a lot of self-control for me not to let it turn into something I wouldn’t have wanted to stop. Because even if Jules would probably love that I don’t push Sophie away anymore, she surely doesn’t have the loss of her virginity at her second kiss in mind.
Goddamn… The fact that I’m eventhinkingabout it shows that I’m the last person who should be getting close to Sophie. But it’s almost impossible for me not to wonder what her skin tastes like, what she feels like, what sounds I might elicit from her when we?—
With a suppressed groan, I turn the water even colder.
When I leave the bathroom, Sophie is standing at the pool table, nudging one of the balls.
I pull on my shirt as I walk toward her, relieved that the shower has served its purpose to cool me down. "Wanna play?"
She lifts her eyes and frowns, reminding me again how wrong it would have been to deepen the kiss.
"Pool. It’s a game."
"How do you play it?"
With a now curious look, she follows me as I reach for the two cues in the wall-mounted rack. Then I hand her one and place the other on the table before grabbing the triangle to arrange the balls in it.
"The cue ball goes here," I explain after removing the triangle and placing the white ball. "You play it with the cue to pocket the others."
Walking around the table, I take the cue, then position it to aim. "Half of the balls are fully colored. Those are the solids. The others are called stripes."
"It’s one more solid," Sophie remarks, to which I nod.
"Yes. Because of the black eight. She’s kind of special."
After explaining the rules of pool to her, I make my first shot and then sink another ball before I step away from the table, ignoring the rules so Sophie can make her first move.
"Not too hesitant, but also not too forceful," I instruct her as she looks intently from the tip of the cue to the white ball and, ultimately, to the red ball she aims to strike. "Take your time."
She takes another deep breath before making her shot, but the cue slips slightly to the right, causing it to only lightly touch the white ball, making it roll past the red one without even grazing it.
Sophie curses, whereupon I raise an eyebrow in surprise. "Did you just sayshit?" I ask, trying not to let my amusement come through too clearly.
Her eyes widen as she looks at me almost startled, blushing immediately. "I’m sorry."
I make a disapproving click with my tongue. "There’s nothing to be sorry for. Better tell me how it felt."
Grimacing, she turns away and looks at the balls. "Frustrating. I missed."
A quiet laugh escapes me before I walk around the table. "I meant the swearing," I clarify with a smirk, taking the white ball and putting it back where it was. "Try again."
After Sophie pocketed her third ball, a loud knock sounds from the first floor, and she looks at me questioningly.
"You stay here," I instruct her, putting down the cue and heading downstairs.
Not many people would bang on my door like that. But with Jules in Chicago and me having made the mistake of forfeiting the fight, this could get pretty ugly. So when I open the steel door, it’s no surprise to see Steve’s slick, calculating grin. Behind him, two of his steroid-fueled goons stand, scowling, ready to pounce on anyone.
"What do you want?" I ask, not bothering with pleasantries.
"Why so rude, Walker? Am I not allowed to visit a friend?" At his words, he tilts his head and looks at me with a feigned hurt expression.
I resist the urge to slam the door in his face and instead correct his statement. "We’re not friends."
His expression turns cold and emotionless, so I decide not to let him in.
