She leaned over the table, and he couldn’t help but look at the way her breasts spilled over the top of that tank top, drawing all his attention away from the game and right to her body.
He tried to focus on what she was doing, but it was difficult. She didn’t even look at the balls but made eye contact with him as the pool cue slid smoothly through her fingers and the white ball cracked against the colored ones with a loud sound that should’ve jarred him out of his haze, but didn’t.
Because he was a disaster.
This girl.
“I’m solids,” she said.
“Stripes it is.” He was in a pretty advantageous position, so when he set up, he easily sent the white ball into a stripe, knocking it into the pocket. The cue ball rolled just to the edge of the velvet, but didn’t tumble in and cause a scratch.
He grinned.
“Impressive,” she said, but in a way that was a little bit too smooth. A way that felt like she was stroking him.
“It’s really too bad you don’t need any instruction,” she said. “I would’ve loved to give you some guidance.” She knew exactly what she was doing to him.
“Well, if you need me to show you how it’s done, I’m happy to.”
She set up next to the shot he had left her, which was difficult no matter how good you were. “Oh, Flynn, I know my way around balls. I definitely don’t need you to teach me.” The cue glided through her fingers, striking the white ball, which hopped and hit the top of a solid so that it rolled straight into the opposing pocket.
“Damn,” he said.
And then he ground his teeth together, because she was as hot as she was annoying.
They went back and forth like that, until there were very few balls left on the table. As he set up to take another shot, she stoodthere, arms crossed under her breasts, looking at him, refusing to move.
So he turned, brushing his hip against hers as he leaned in to prep for his shot. And then she leaned in, her breath hot against his ear. “Don’t mess up.”
He turned his head, and their mouths were only a whisper apart. It would not be out-of-pocket for him to kiss her, actually. Because they were pretending to be a couple. Because this was all part of the ruse. Certainly, the people around them were all entertained.
His pulse began to pound heavily. But he distracted himself by watching as the color mounted in her cheeks. Watching as she began to get short of breath. She was turned on. She had flown too close to the sun. She meant to mess with him, and she had messed with her damn self.
He took a shot and sent his ball in, leaving the white one in a precarious spot. She cleared her throat and rounded the table, but he went right with her.
“What are you doing?” she asked out of the corner of her mouth.
“I’m helping you. Just like you were helping me.”
“You are not helping.”
He leaned against the table just as she bent down, keeping their faces close. “Don’t mess up, Jessie.”
She arched back, scratching, sending the white ball flying off the table.
“You did that on purpose,” she said.
“Not at all. I was just being affectionate.”
“You are the worst,” she hissed.
“Many women would agree with you.”
“You shouldn’t brag about that.”
“Well, I’m the worst, so I’m often unclear on what exactly I should be bragging about.”
She huffed.
