I frown, his smile still vivid in my mind. It’s one I’ve seen a hundred times from him. I bite the inside of my cheek. But it’s the first time I’m seeing it for what it really is. I think. I’m not positive, but I do know I’ll be paying closer attention.
“You're up,” I say just as he’s about to take his shot. “Something you’re good at.”
He growls. “Not cool, dude. You don’t interrupt a man mid-thrust.” He looks back at me, eyes sparkling, dimples on full display.
There. That one was different. That’s the real one. “Depends on the situation.”
He throws his head back on a laugh, his blond curlsreflecting the rainbow of neon overhead. When his eyes catch mine again, there’s something shining back at me that I don’t understand. It's soft and teasing, and if he were any other guy, I’d think he was flirting with me.
Maybe he is. It’s just more attention, right? He was flirting with Alf back there. Some people just need that ego-stroke. There’s no intent behind it.
Not that it would matter if there were. He’s my teammate.Where the fuck did you put your head, Jed?I don’t know why this guy is getting me so turned around. Something about him had me unsettled the moment I met him. I thought it’d be better now that we’re not competing against each other, but for some reason…this feels worse.
“DIY projects.”
I slowly come back to the present. DIY projects? Interesting. “Not sure why, but I don’t think I’d trust you with power tools.”
“Hey, I always make sure to use my equipment safely.”
“God, man. Can you turnanythinginto a dirty joke?”
He nods seriously. “Pretty much. I do it without even trying. Without even realizing half the time. Maybe I should have said that for what I’m good at.”
Given our past conversations, I have to agree. I step up to the pool table. “All right, next question.”
“Something you’re looking forward to.”
“Kicking your ass at this game.”
“That’s unfortunate, since you’re only setting yourself up for disappointment.”
I glance at the table where I only have two balls left plus the eight-ball, and he has four. I arch a brow.
“All part of my strategy,” he says breezily.
And unfortunately, I don’t manage to knock one in this turn.
“Ravioli Night.”
I tilt my head. “What?”
His mouth hooks up. “I’m looking forward to Ravioli Night with the crew. Paulie’s girlfriend and Easton’s b—” His eyes widen. “Besssst friend. Easton’s best friend. Plus Frankie, Paulie’s brother.” He laughs awkwardly. “We all get together to make homemade ravioli. A Nebiolo family tradition that they’ve brought the crew into. We compete to see who can make the most ravs.”
“Sounds nice,” I say, eyeing him.
“Something that frustrates you,” he says quickly. “Next question.”
I think it over as he takes his turn—and knocks in two of his balls. Well, that changed quickly. “Can I choose a person?”
His head snaps my way, and the glare he shoots me is…so ineffective and adorable. “You can’t choose me.” He pouts.
I bark out a laugh. “I was going to pick Olander and Devereux.”
His face relaxes. “We definitely have that in common. I choose them too. God, those two make me ragey. Like, is it really so hard to justnotbe an asshole?”
“You know, I really think it’s unfair to assholes to have those two compared to them. Assholes are pretty great.”
Michaels chokes. “Ohmygod. Yessss, man. That was a legitimate joke. So proud of you.”
