“Wait.” I stood a little straighter. “You know how many shots I took?”
“Well, yeah. It’s my job to know.”
“It’s your job to know how many drinks I’ve had?”
“When you’re my guest at the clubhouse it is.”
“Oh. I get it.” I leaned my head back, resting it on the wall and sighed. “You can’t take the risk of someone you invited here getting out of hand and causing trouble.”
“Exactly.” He cocked his brow as he teased, “And I’ve been around long enough to know that you’re the type to get out of hand.”
“You can’t be serious.”
“Nah, I’m just fucking with you.”
“That’s good, because I don’t want you thinking you have to worry about me… I’m not the trouble making kind.”
“No. You’re certainly not.”
He held my gaze for a moment, then moved next to me, leaning against the clubhouse. We stood there for a bit, shoulder to shoulder, with the noise from inside the clubhouse filling the air. He asked me a few random questions, like if I’d eaten or how often I drank, and I answered honestly, even though I found them unnecessary.
I wasn’t plastered.
I was just a little woozy.
And the fresh air was doing me good.
Then, I felt it. A slight bite of cold against my cheek.
I looked up, and a smile swept across my face when I saw that it was snowing. The flakes drifted down, slow and lazy, and gave me a sense of peace I hadn’t felt in ages. Luke cleared his throat and shifted his stance. “Alright. That’s my cue. Time to get you inside before you turn into a popsicle.”
“I’m fine.”
“Humor me.”
He opened the door, and I grimaced. “I’m not ready to go back in there.”
“Understood.”
He released the door, then reached down and took my hand in his, leading me around the side of the clubhouse. Secondslater, we were at another door, and without saying a word, Luke led me inside. We took a few steps down the hall before stepping into a large room I’d never seen before.
There were several sofas and recliners along with large flat screens on the wall, and in the back of the room, there were a couple of pool tables and dartboards. “Wow. This is impressive.”
“We call it the family room.” He continued over to one of the pool tables as he said, “Great place to let off steam and recuperate from one too many shots.”
“I see.”
He grabbed two cues off the wall and offered one to me. “You play?”
“Not since I was a kid.”
“You up for trying a round?”
“Sure, but don’t expect much.” I stepped up to the table.
We took our shots and shared a little small talk about nothing in particular. The weather. My bad aim. High school. It felt normal. Comfortable. Like I wasn’t trying to fit into a place where I didn’t belong.
“I gotta say… I was a little surprised when you came into the Vault with Davis,” Luke admitted. “I would’ve figured you were married and two kids deep by now.”
