“But you don’t make music anymore.”
Something deep inside of her twisted. “No.”
He held her gaze for a long breath. “Why not?”
She broke eye contact first, looking down into her water glass, the lemon wedge cuddled by the ice.
“Because I don’t want to,” she said finally. It came out sharper than she meant it to, and under the table, she dug her nails into her palm, fighting the impulse to drive this perfectly nice evening right off a cliff.
Niko took a sip of his beer, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he drank. But when he put it down, he still didn’t say anything. The pause stretched into a silence, the tap of their conversation abruptly twisted shut.
Beside them, the group at the pool table cleared out, leaving it vacant. Niko inclined his head toward it.
“You wanna play?”
Merritt hesitated. At least it would remove the pressure to talk. “Yeah, okay.”
They scooted out of the booth and picked up cues. Niko racked the balls in a few graceful motions. Merritt busied herself chalking up her cue so she wouldn’t gawk at his triceps flexing under the sleeves of his T-shirt. She wasn’t even sure what the chalk did.
“You can’t make fun of me.”
He grinned. “Why would I make fun of you?”
“I’m really bad. Like,reallybad.”
“I don’t believe it. I think you’re trying to get my guard down to hustle me.” He leaned over and lined up his shot, breaking the rack with ease.
Merritt took her turn, fumbling with the cue. She was even worse than she remembered. Unfortunately, the hand-eyecoordination that allowed her to quickly pick up instruments seemed to be nontransferable, and her slight daze from the beer didn’t help.
They didn’t talk much besides Niko giving her the occasional pointer (from a respectful distance, she noted with disappointment). He quickly cleared the table before she could sink a single ball. She wanted to be annoyed, but she’d never been so turned on by having her ass so thoroughly handed to her.
Niko dipped out to the bar and back again to get them another round. She took the water glass from him, her fingers briefly closing around his before he let it go. He grinned cheekily.
“Should we play a game?”
“Weareplaying a game.”
“No, I mean…if I make a shot, you have to answer a question about yourself. And if you make one, I do.”
Merritt laughed. “That’s not fair, you’re destroying me.”
He shrugged. “I’m just trying to get to know you. We could always go back to the table and have a regular conversation; it’s up to you.”
“Fine. Rerack ’em. I was just warming up.” She cracked her neck and narrowed her eyes dramatically. He laughed, and warmth bloomed under her skin.
He let her shoot first this time, but it didn’t make much difference. He sank his first shot within seconds. She groaned. “Okay, go easy on me.”
From the other side of the table, he rested his hands on the edge, leaning forward. “Why did you leave LA?”
“Bad breakup.” She thought about leaving it at that, just for the sake of stubbornness, but she realized with a start that shewantedto tell Niko about herself. At this point, being coy wasn’t doing anyone any favors. “It was only supposed to be temporary.But I fell in love with the town, with the house—and I wanted to be near Olivia. So…here I am.”
He nodded. “You two are close.”
“Sharing a womb will do that to you.” She set the end of her cue on the ground. “Do you have siblings?”
He grinned. “Nuh-uh. No freebies.”
Once again, he easily cleared the table, but she appreciated that his subsequent questions were softballs: her favorite season (autumn), her favorite movie (All That Jazz), her favorite food (her mom’s roast chicken and potatoes). When she sank her first ball all night, she was so shocked that her mind went blank, even forgetting the question she’d already tried to ask.
