“Thanks, but no thanks,” she said. “I’ll take a loser over an egotistical jerk any day.”
CHAPTER 9
***MALCOLM***
Malcolm burst out laughing, and the look on Thomas’s face when he realized what Rose had said to him just made him laugh even harder. “I think that’s your signal to leave,” he finally said. “I think the lady made herself very clear.”
Instead of leaving, Thomas came a couple of steps closer to their table, then leaned over so he was right in Rose’s face. “Has he told you the truth yet?” he asked, then waited a second to see if she replied. “I bet not, I bet he hasn’t said a word about who he really is. I’ll tell you one thing, Diego and Sebastian know the truth. If you want my advice, get away before it’s too late.”
Thomas straightened up and walked off before either of them could respond, and he looked over at Rose to find her studying him intently. “He was just trying to scare me, wasn’t he?” she asked, her voice trembling a little. “Who are Diego and Sebastian?”
Malcolm hesitated for a second, then let out a long sigh. “Thomas is from our rival fraternity; we’ve been feuding with them since freshman year,” he said. “Diego and Sebastian are his fraternity brothers. They both disappeared this fall, and no one has heard from them. The Kappas are convinced we hadsomething to do with it and won’t let it go. He was just trying to scare you. I’m sorry, Rose. I didn’t think about you getting pulled into our little war.”
Rose’s face filled with relief. “It’s okay, I should have known you’d never do anything like that,” she said. “I didn’t really believe him, it’s just…”
“We haven’t known each other that long,” he finished for her. “I don’t blame you, sweetheart. Thomas can be quite convincing when he wants to be.”
“Let’s just forget the whole thing happened,” she said. “I don’t want it to ruin the night.”
“Fine with me,” Malcolm said, smiling at her. “Are you ready to feel a cue stick in your hand?”
“I guess so, I just hope I don’t hurt anyone,” she said. “I’m not very coordinated.”
“You’ll be fine,” he said, pulling her to her feet. “I’ll help. You’ll see, it won’t be that hard.”
He kept her hand in his as they crossed the bar to the other side, then wound their way through the dozen or so tables to an empty one in the back corner. “How’s this?” Malcolm asked, digging in his pocket and pulling out a roll of quarters. “You won’t be able to hurt anyone except me way back here.”
“Malcolm, that’s not funny,” Rose said, slapping him on the arm. “I’m nervous enough as it is.”
He walked over to the rack of cue sticks and grabbed two, then handed one to Rose. “There’s nothing to be nervous about,” he said. “We’re just trying to get the colored balls into the pockets on the table. The worst thing that’s going to happen is that you’re going to miss. No one will die, the world won’t end, you’ll just take another shot. This is supposed to be fun, so just relax, and I promise not to tease you if you stink at it.”
“Which I will,” she said, then shrugged her shoulders. “Okay, what the heck, show me what to do.”
After popping some quarters into the table, he grabbed the rack and began to arrange the balls inside it before stepping back and looking over at her. “Are you ready?” he asked, then grinned at her. “I’ll take the first shot and then you can try after that.”
“You’re the expert,” she said, stepping back to give him room. “You’re going to have to show me how to hold this thing when you’re done, though.”
“I will, just watch me for now,” he said, lining up the shot. “The white ball I’m about to hit is the cue ball, and it’s never supposed to go into one of the pockets. You will automatically lose your turn, they call it scratching.”
He sent the cue ball sailing down the table, and it hit the other balls with a satisfying crack, and they scattered all over the table. Then, to his embarrassment, the cue ball rolled right into a pocket, disappearing from sight with a loud clunk.
“You mean like that?” Rose asked, a little smile on her face.
“Okay, smarty pants, it’s your turn,” he said, retrieving the cue ball and setting it down on the table. “Find a shot that looks easy, maybe the seven ball in the corner pocket.”
Rose gave him a confused look, then stepped up to the table, awkwardly gripped the cue stick in her hands, and lined up the shot. On her first try, she missed the ball completely, her second try glazed right over the top, and on the third, the ball popped off the table and rolled across the floor. With a frustrated sigh, she set down the stick, retrieved the ball, set it down on the table, then turned around to face him.
“I must be doing something wrong,” she said, putting her hands on her hips. “Are you going to help me or keep watching me struggle?”
“Sorry, I just wanted to see if you’d get it on your own,” he said, pushing himself away from the wall he’d been leaning on. “I’m sure it’s your grip; line up the shot again.”
When she was in position, he came up behind her and gently moved her hands around, then stepped up behind her, grabbed her by the hips, and rearranged her stance. “Okay, now I want you to draw your arm back slowly, then hit the ball,” he said, close enough that he could smell her perfume. “Hit the ball like you mean it, don’t hesitate, just go for it.”
She looked over her shoulder at him, her mouth only inches from his, making him instantly think about kissing her. He was just wondering what she would taste like when she cleared her throat, reminding him what they were doing, and he forced himself to redirect his thoughts before he did something stupid.
“Like this?” she asked, pulling her arm back, then giving the ball a good thump, sending it rolling across the table toward the ball she had been aiming for. “Oh, it worked. Can I try again?”
He backed up a few steps, desire thundering through his body, his head swimming with the need that had boiled to life so quickly he hadn’t had time to prepare for it. “Sure, line up another shot,” he managed to croak, planning to stay far away from her this time. “I think you’ve got it.”
