Going Long (Waiting on the Sidelines #2)(26)

“Okay, I’ll break and show you how it’s done,” he said, moving me to the side to watch. I bit my tongue a little to force down the giggle of superiority that was dying to escape me. I’d been playing pool since I was 4; my grandpa was what you’d call a shark, and he had taught me well. When I was little, he would set me up on a chair so I could reach the center of the table, and after 16 years of play on his professional table at home, I was pretty threatening with a cue.

Gavin broke well and explained the basics of the game to me while we circled the table. Nine-ball isn’t hard. It’s just a game of counting, really. You shoot the balls in numerical order. The trick is planning out your shots in advance so you’re never left in a corner. I watched as Gavin took his next shot and knew he wasn’t going to be much competition. To make things interesting, I decided to play up my novice skills for a little longer, missing my first several shots and sighing in frustration.

“You’re doing great; it’s okay, you’ll get it. I’ve been playing for a while, so that’s why I’m so good,” he said, his eyes crinkling with his confident smile. I almost felt bad. Almost. I was still going in for the kill.

“I think I just need a goal. I’m good with goals,” I said as I pulled the balls from our practice game out of the pockets, and rolled them in the center to rack them.

“Okay,” Gavin said, scrunching his brow and not really following me.

“Sorry, I’m not making much sense. I’m just a competitive person by nature, so I’m thinking if there’s something I can win, maybe I’ll play harder,” I squinted my eyes and looked around the room a bit, pretending, as I knew full well what I was about to propose. “Ah, how about this. If I can win just one game…but only one,” I was playing up my desperation some, “you and the dingles here have to wear my red lipstick out on the dance floor.”

“Haaaaaaaaa,” Cory laughed, completely taken by my acting skills. “That’s funny. You’re so on. There’s no way you’re winning.”

Gavin leaned into the bar and had a pensive look, not as convinced by my performance. He was chewing on his bottom lip for a few seconds, considering, and finally spoke up. “Okay, but what if I shut you out?” He wasn’t as trusting as the dingles, smart man.

We stood there in a staring contest for a few seconds, considering each other’s bluffs. I was starting to think that maybe Gavin had been holding back a little, too, when he chimed in with his idea.

“If I shut you out, you have to kiss each of us on the cheek, with the red lipstick, leaving your mark behind—so that way everyone here tonight will know you lost a bet,” he said. He smiled with tight lips, laying down all his cards. He was definitely holding back. But I was still pretty sure I could surprise him. My grandpa had won thousands at the tables and had trophies named for him in Vegas. I’d been taught by the best, and I was about to put all of my faith in those skills.

I reached out my hand to shake Gavin’s, and the bet was sealed. “You’re on,” I said, sliding the balls into the rack with flair, just to show the boys a hint of my skills.

“Fuuuuuck,” I heard Steven whisper to Cory. It made me giggle.

I leaned my weight to one side and posted my cue on the floor, grabbing my glass of beer with my free hand and taking a big chug just for effect. I was getting better at holding my liquor. “You wanna break first or do you just want me to run the table right now and win the bet,” I smiled and winked, just as Gavin had done minutes before.

He just laughed at my boldness and waved me through. “By all means. Show me what you’ve got,” he said, sliding into one of the stools by the dingle twins and their harem.

It had been a few months since I’d played, but I wasn’t very rusty. I broke and sunk the one ball right away. Two, three, four and five went soon after. I strutted around the table with a cocky swagger just to show off my new confidence, and then polished off the rest of the balls in a matter of minutes. Just to be a bit of an *, I tilted my stick sideways when I was done and blew the chalk off the tip. Gavin just nodded, smiled and looked down before reaching out to shake my hand again.

“Well played,” he said. “I knew you were holding back. I didn’t think you’d be that good, but I knew you were playing me.”

“Why’d you take the bet then?” I asked, feeling a little guilty for flaying him in front of everyone now.

He just turned to look at the stunned dingle twins and then looked back at me. “Wearing lipstick for the next 30 minutes out there on that floor is worth every ounce of embarrassment knowing these jack-offs have to, too,” he laughed.

I smiled and took another drink of my beer. I was having an amazing time. I felt freedom I hadn’t felt in weeks, and the weight of my secret was temporarily lifted. “Play again?” I asked.

“Damn straight,” he said, racking the balls. I let him break this time, and as I had suspected, he was better than he’d let on. I was still the stronger player, but he was good. And we competed for the next 30 minutes until the band started playing and we all headed to the dance floor.



The boys were all good sports, proudly wearing their red lips until the shiny makeup wore from their faces. The dingle twins were able to wear theirs off quickly by making out with a few various women at the club. Gavin’s took a little longer, and after 30 minutes, I felt guilty and handed him a napkin to wipe the remaining color away.