Cal’s shouts rang out from the back of the bar. He and Eli were posted up by the pool table, consumed in a game that seemed a little too heated to be a friendly competition. Cal’s brows furrowed, but as he took his shot, it veered off course, grazing the edge and sending it bouncing helplessly across the table. The hundred-dollar bills sitting on the edge of the table must’ve been the main reason for the competition, but Cal didn’tneed the motivation. He had the unique ability to turn anything into a competition.
“Eli already won the first game,” Kenna kept her voice low to keep from riling up the guys. “And of course, Cal couldn’t let it go, so now it’s double or nothing.”
Eli stretched over the faded green felt of the pool table. The pool stick slid between his fingers, and a loud crack rang out as the cue ball hit off the rail and proceeded to knock the striped ball into the corner pocket. Wisps of dark hair peeked out from under his hood, and a ghost of a smile tugged at his lips as Cal flipped him off.
Cal and Eli grew up as neighbors and forged an improbable friendship. They were best friends, yet polar opposites. Cal burned with an intensity that could ignite anything in his path, while Eli was cold and unyielding like ice.
“You’re kicking Cal’s ass,” I said, leaning against the table.
“Someone has to bring his massive ego back down to earth every once in a while.”
“That’s not the only thing that’s massive,” Cal said, winking.
“Ew, Cal. Gross.” I shook my head, trying to force the image from my mind.
“Yeah, you also have a big ass forehead.” Eli chided.
“Fucking assholes,” Cal muttered, turning his attention back to the game.
“You doing okay? You seemed…flustered last night.” Eli’s smirked dropped.
I chewed on my bottom lip, knowing I should spill my guts. They were my best friends. They’d understand.
Eli missed his next shot, then turned to me. “Last night, I…” But the words wouldn’t come out. Shame rose like bile in my throat. “I mean, I let a—” The sentence died on my lips as familiar colored eyes caught mine.
A long breath slipped out; my shoulders sagged when I saw him. I guess he hadn’t bled out and died. But the relief barely had time to settle before a sick, sinking feeling took over. I straightened without meaning to, pulse ticking faster because I had no idea who, or what, he was.
Shit, shit, shit.
I rummaged through my purse to find my wire-rimmed glasses, desperate to get a better look at him. That was a mistake. I remembered Grey being attractive, but holy fucking hell was he hot. His tall, slender frame towered over the group of men standing in his vicinity. His hoodie hid the collar at his neck while he casually sipped his beer and watched the baseball game on a TV behind the bar.
Grey was the definition of stupid hot. As in, my brain short-circuited because of how attractive he was.
Girl, get it together.
“What’s wrong?” Eli asked over the string of curses Cal spewed after missing another shot.
Oh, nothing just eye fucking the guy standing at the bar.
“Nothing,” I blinked a few times, trying to jump-start my brain.
“Your shot, Eli,” Cal muttered. “At least pretend to be interested in the game you’re kicking my ass in.”
Eli opened his mouth and then shut it like he wanted to press the issue but decided against it. A couple shots later, at least, I think it was only a couple, Eli sank the eight ball in the corner pocket. Cal’s booming voice jolted me back just in time to see Cal shove a wad of bills into Eli’s hand. “Winner buys the drinks,” he huffed in defeat.
At the bar, Grey turned and fastened his gaze on me. My skin crawled under his stare. I tried and failed to look away. His face was unreadable, devoid of any emotion. If he was surprised to see me, he didn’t show it.
“You want your usual whiskey ginger?” Eli asked, prying my attention away from Grey.
“No, thanks. I’m never drinking again.”
Eli scoffed like he didn’t believe me, and maybe I was being dramatic. But I definitely was not drinking tonight.
My gaze shamelessly traveled back to Grey who brought the beer bottle to his full lips and tilted his head back, taking a long swig. The thin black collar was barely visible as he swallowed. He looked younger than I remembered. He couldn’t be more than a couple of years older than me.
Around the bar, people hovered impatiently, waiting for their drinks. A young man wildly waved his hand, trying to get the only bartender’s attention and bumping into Grey. He stared down at the guy, who took a tentative step back, and Kenna wedged herself between the two fighting for an open spot at the bar. My breath hitched, but neither seemed to recognize the other.
“I’m glad to see you’re still alive,” Cal said.
