The Billionaire Next Door (Billionaire Bad Boys #2)(17)

Tag, in a low-slung man bun, was bent over lining up the cue ball. Rachel took brief inventory of his wide thighs decked in denim but quickly jerked her attention to his face when his dark-haired friend elbowed him. From his hunch over the table, Tag turned his head and pegged her with a look that was borderline animal. Then a bearded smile curved his mouth.

He straightened, put the pool cue stick on the floor, and stood with it at his side like a staff. At that moment she realized her assessment of Tarzan was incorrect. He looked more like a Viking. Or a supersized Aragorn from Lord of the Rings.

“Bree was in the weeds, so she asked me to bring you your beers,” Rachel lied. Because she had to have a reason for bringing him booze. She couldn’t hover in the doorway while Tag pierced her with those fierce blue eyes.

“You work here?” Tag asked as she put the beer glasses on a narrow ledge along the wall behind him.

“You didn’t know?” Disappointment sank into the pit of her stomach. Part of her had hoped he’d sought her out.

“No idea.”

“It’s my day off. I stopped in to…” Well, she couldn’t tell him she was dropping off the clothes she’d gone upstairs to his apartment wearing, now could she? “I just stopped in.”

“Do you drink beer?” Tag’s friend asked.

“Yes.” Rachel sent a look from him to Tag. Tag shook his head, but his smile remained. She was missing something.

“Good. I have to go home to the old ball and chain.” The friend held up his left hand and wiggled his wedding band with his thumb. “You can have my beer. And Tag can pay for everything since he owes me money for whipping his ass at pool tonight.” He snagged his coat off the coat rack—black leather—and slid his arms into it.

“I’m telling Gena you called her a ball and chain,” Tag said as his friend moved across the room.

“Tell her whatever you want. She barely believes you anyway.” Then he leveled Rachel with a warm amber gaze. “Lucas. It’s nice to finally meet you.”

He extended a hand and she shook it, noting his extra emphasis on the word finally. She apologized for her hand being damp from the glass. Then Lucas was gone and Tag and Rachel were in the billiard room by themselves. She put her hands in her coat pockets and gave the beer a dubious look.

“I should get back to Adonis.” She wasn’t in any hurry to go home, but faced with the prospect of hanging out with Tag alone, she would rather leave. She thought of how Bree had challenged her a minute ago. Surely, Rachel could handle being in the same public place with him. Though, at the moment the small room felt more intimate than the night she went up to his house dressed in almost nothing.

“Do you play pool?” he asked, interrupting her thoughts.

“Well,” she answered. Whenever it was slow here, she practiced. And before then she and Shaun used to play at a dive near work.

Where I used to work.

“In that case”—Tag did a neat little move where he lifted the pool stick and let it slide along his hand until the bottom hit the floor—“we’ll drink instead of play. I’ve lost enough money tonight.”

After putting away both pool cues, he came to her and held out a hand. It took her a few seconds to realize he was asking for her coat. She slipped the buttons through her black wool coat and handed it over, then watched as he hung it on the coat rack on the wall. The way he moved exuded strength and confidence. And the way he looked in jeans and a sweater…well, that was heat and sex and temptation personified.

Too much. He’s just too much.

On his way back, he palmed both beers, dwarfing the drafts in his big hands. “It’s one drink, Dimples.”

She blinked, taking in his earnest expression. Her entire life, she’d never been called anything but Rachel or Rach. She tried to decide how she felt about the new nickname. Tried to call up her inner feminist and be properly offended, but she couldn’t feel anything short of flattered.

She accepted one of the glasses and Tag lifted his in a silent cheers.

“Do you and Lucas work together?” she asked after taking a drink.

“Nah. Lucas is in the music business. I’m in the hotel business. But we’ve been friends for a long time.” He leaned a hip on the pool table. He was so…big. Dominant.

Delicious.

No, not delicious. He was not the same word she used to describe cheese-covered fries. He was something different. Something she wasn’t cut out for. She could sense it.

“Cool. Music. That’s awesome.”

“Yeah, the girls were always drawn to him. Music is a sexier profession than hotels.” Tag’s smile was self-deprecating.

“You poor thing.” She had zero doubts he’d collected his share of phone numbers, and she knew exactly what it was about him that made her shy away.

The boy was a Player. Capital P.

“Did he put a dent in your average?” she asked, lifting her glass for another drink.

He grinned and his expression was so blindingly beautiful, she lost track of what she was going to say. He took one step, then another. The closer he came, the more nervous she grew. Each step was purposeful, capable. Whatever he did in the hotel business, he sure as hell wasn’t a maintenance guy. He smacked of power. Of commanding it. Of wielding it. An answering zing in her stomach sent a flutter of butterflies into her chest cavity.