The Perfect First (Fulton U, #1)(41)

I spun to walk toward him and Reece pulled tighter, steering me away toward the booths.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he asked.

“I was going to get a menu.”

His hand slipped down to the small of my back, fingers inches away from my ass. I’d never cursed the thick wool of my coat more. “Why don’t you just ask him to boot us?”

“I made it into the club we went to.”

“With my friend who eyed you like he was inspecting a bag of bread for mold and let that one questionable piece go.”

Reece guided me toward the pool tables. I ran my hand along the felt. “Want to play?” I scanned the walls for the sticks.

“Maybe we should find another place for you to show your wild side, Wild Child.” His gaze darted around the place.

I sucked in a breath. Wild Child. Aunt Sophie had called Mom Wild One back in the day. Seemed fitting.

“It’s fine here. Have we run into any problems so far?” I bent over, looking under the table for the pool sticks.

“Way to jinx it,” he mumbled under his breath.

“If you want the table, you can always play us for it. I’ll even lend you my lucky cue.” A guy with a dragon tattoo on his neck held out a pool cue.

Reece shook his head so sharply it looked like he might sprain his neck.

My fingers were an inch from the long thin wood when he tugged me back.

“What are you doing?” he hissed into my ear.

“I’m going to play them for the table.” This was exactly like a movie. They were pool sharks. We weren’t playing for money, though, so what did it matter?

His eyebrows dipped and he leaned in closer. Why’d he have to smell so good? I wanted to rub against him like a cat, purring my appreciation for his concern, but I also wanted to impress him.

“Have you ever played pool before?”

“I’ve studied it a lot. It’s all angles and inertia. I’ve got this.” How hard could it be? I ran the chalk over the tip of the pool cue as the other guys arranged the balls into a triangle.

Reece stood behind me, perched on the edge of a stool, looking ready for action at the first sign of trouble.

“What do you say we make this interesting?” Crooked Nose smiled at his friend and turned back to me.

My eyebrows scrunched together and I bit my bottom lip. Glancing over my shoulder, I saw Reece shake his head the slightest bit with his eyes wide.

I turned back to the guys in front of me. “What did you have in mind?”

16. REECE

Standing in the middle of the bar with my hands cupped over my junk, wearing nothing but my boots, socks, and boxers, I stared a hole into the back of Seph’s head.

Her striped balls were dotted all around the pool table like abandoned children. The volume in the bar had picked up as more people came inside, and our game drew even more attention than a normal one might because of, you know, the nearly naked guy standing beside the table, namely me. Her opponent sank the eight ball into the side pocket.

Gently toeing off my shoes, I pulled my socks off and dropped them into the pile of my clothes on a bar stool. Thank fuck I’d worn a t-shirt under my sweatshirt or I’d have had to choose between leaving my shoes or my boxers behind.

Seph looked back at me with a pained expression.

I pinched my lips together and watched her come around from the other side of the table like a puppy with its tail between its legs.

The guy she’d played against picked up my pile of clothes. “Thanks for these. Nice game. Come back any time.” He and his friend laughed and carried them off to who knows where. Probably the dumpster around back.

“Angles and inertia, huh?” I crossed my arms over my chest. Nippling in front of a bar full of people wasn’t exactly my idea of fun.

“That was a little harder than I expected.”

“You don’t say, Wild Child.”

“At least you still have your coat?” She held it up with a winning smile.

I grabbed it out of her grasp and threw my arms into it. “Now I just have my boxers flapping in the wind.”

“They’re cute. Are those Pikachu?”

“Everything else was dirty,” I grumbled under my breath. The bodies filling up the bar took away from the cold breeze rushing past my legs. A few people lifted their heads and stared at my yellow and blue boxers. I was tempted to stand on the pool table and let everyone get a good look. I was sure our coach’s media specialist would burst a blood vessel if that ended up in the papers.

I looked to my right and shook my head at Seph’s pained look. I’d have almost felt bad for her if I couldn’t see her internal struggle with the little laugh lines on her face tensing up every other second.

“I’m sorry, okay. Let me buy you a drink.” She looped her arm through mine and tugged me over to the bar. Throwing elbows like she was on the field with me, she made a small hole. People turned and looked at her then spotted me—all of me—and moved out of the way. Seemed all you had to do to get a spot at a crowded bar was show up in your underwear and jacket. Or maybe they just knew I really needed a drink with the way I looked.

“This is going to take a hell of a lot more than a drink to make up for. Those were my favorite jeans.” I pointed back to the pile of clothes on top of the table between the two pool sharks.