She huffs out a deep sigh, and I can smell the fruit on her breath. “You’re impossible and argumentative,” she states, bending down to shoot her original shot. As soon as she does, the cue ball goes exactly where I expected it to.
Behind the four, leaving her zero shots.
Honestly, Charli is pretty damn good at shooting pool, and if she wasn’t teetering on the side of intoxication, she’d recognize the fact the shot she just made isn’t the one she should have taken. In fact, I’m certain she’s realizing now I was right, but it would snow in Hell before she said those words to me.
Instead, I’ll goad them out of her.
“I’m not the one arguing,” I say calmly, searching the table for a shot. “Off the rail, thirteen ball in the corner pocket.” I don’t tell her it won’t go in, but it’ll at least get one of the balls out of the clump of them sitting together and hopefully line up another shot.
“I don’t need your help,” she insists, taking a stance at the corner of the table and sending the cue ball into a group of four. “See? I’m perfectly capable of shooting without your assistance.”
I flash her a grin. “Well, then, I’ll just take a seat.”
“Good. Sit down and shut up,” she barks, walking over to get her drink and sucking a hearty pull through the straw.
I walk to where my beer is sitting and take a drink, watching her the entire time.
“You always have to push her buttons,” Camden says with a chuckle.
“She’s just being difficult. I was trying to help.”
“Yeah, but helping is what gets you in trouble.”
Don’t I know it. Charli has always been super confrontational where I’m concerned, not that I’m too worried about it. Honestly, I like it. Fighting with her is sometimes the best part of my day. She spars as naturally as she breathes, with her sharp tongue and sassy attitude. I’d never tell her this, but I actually enjoy someone who instantly goes to battle with me over a person who practically ignores my existence.
“Come on, Oaklee. Let’s go use the restroom,” Charli blurts out, setting her pool stick down and sliding her arm through Oaklee’s.
“Gabby Loberman is here,” Camden mutters under his breath, earning an immediate curse from me.
Before I can even say another word, the woman at the door spots me and smiles. “Quinn, hi!” she hollers, heading this way in a tight little skirt and a whole lotta extra swing in her step. “I’m so glad you’re here,” she adds the moment she reaches my side.
“Yeah?” I ask politely, even though I’d much rather ignore her. But not acknowledging Gabby is like waving a red flag in front of a bull. She looks at it as a challenge and refuses to let up.
“Yes,” she coos, leaning forward and giving me an unobstructed glimpse of the cleavage pouring out of the neckline of her top. “My car is acting funny.”
“Take it to a mechanic,” I reply, sipping my beer.
“But you fix stuff, right?” Her green eyes are bright with anticipation and eagerness, as if this will be the time I actually accept her advances.
“I weld broken things, but that doesn’t mean I know how to fix cars,” I tell her, despite being fairly handy when it comes to vehicle maintenance. That’s one thing I learned early on from Mr. Miller. Camden was eager to learn everything he could, and since I was usually at his side, that meant I was there, soaking up his knowledge too. “If you need your car fixed, talk to Camden.”
She glances at my friend but quickly turns her attention back to me. “Can’t you take a look?” Her eyes burn with promise and seduction as she nibbles on her bottom lip, placing her hand on my thigh and sliding it upward.
“Sorry, I’m not your guy,” I state for what feels like the thousandth time with this woman.
I’ve met a couple who don’t take no for an answer over the years, but Gabby Loberman is by far the most persistent. Don’t get me wrong, it’s nice to feel wanted, but that’s not what this is. Gabby is the woman Charli’s former boyfriend, Rich, slept with when Charli was out of town with Sommer one weekend, and caused the breakup. Well, helped cause it, because there were two people who slept together that night, and one of them was in a relationship and knew better.
The good thing about tonight is I know I won’t have to say much to get Gabby to move along. Camden is biding his time, but I know the moment Cade notices her standing here, he’s going to pounce. And Charli? Well, let’s just hope Gabby is elsewhere by the time she returns from the restroom, because we’ll probably see more fireworks than the Fourth of July.
“How do you know you’re not my guy?” she asks seductively, her hand inching closer to my dick. Of course, it pays no attention to this particular hand. Not when it’s attached to this woman, the one who helped make Charli’s life hell for a short period of time a couple of years back.
“Oh, look. Gabby’s here.”
I glance at Charli, who’s glaring daggers at the woman in front of me. Gabby, in return, digs her nails into my thigh a little tighter. “Charli, hi.”
Charli rolls her eyes, and the moment they land on my leg, fire practically shoots from her blue orbs. “Move along. You’re killing my buzz,” she insists flatly, walking straight toward me and pushing her way between Gabby and me, essentially dislodging the hand—forcefully—Gabby had on my leg.
Gabby sighs and crosses her arms over her chest. “You’re such a bitch.”
