Life In Reverse(43)

“What about you? No sexual escapades of any kind?”

“Not really.” Her shoulders stiffen and she loses eye contact, staring at a spot beyond my shoulder. I wonder then if she’s a virgin, but decide it’s none of my damn business and change the subject.

“Do you play pool?”

Any previous tension dissolves on a quiet breath and she gives me her eyes again.

“I’ve played. But I’m not that good. Julian and I played two games before you got here. He was trying to give me pointers.” She laughs. “But they didn’t take.”

“That’s because you didn’t have the right teacher. Come on.” She follows me off the dance floor, continuing to clutch my hand as we navigate our way toward the pool tables.

Several heads turn when we walk in the room, though Ember seems oblivious to it. I tamp down the way it makes my chest tighten and focus on her. A game is ending at one of the tables and we hover in the back for a few minutes until they finish up.

“Okay,” I begin, picking up two pool sticks and holding one out in front of her. “This is a cue stick.”

Amusement erupts from her throat and she points behind me. “And that’s a table, right?”

“Yeah.” I pin her with a narrowed grin. “Keep laughing, Mickey.”

“Okay, okay.” She clears the happiness from her face. My heart inflates because it occurs to me that I like her happy—that I like her period. “I’m ready.”

“All right. So you’re going to break.” I grab her gently by the shoulders and move her to the head of the table. “Making sure your body is in line with the ball is key to acing the shot.” She bends over to get in position and my eyes fall to her ass. I remove them quickly and remind myself to focus. “Now in order to give you good control, cup your hand on the table and place the top of the cue stick in the groove between your thumb and index finger.”

“Vance?” She glances back at me, all rosy cheeks and bright eyes. I don’t think she realizes how sexy she looks right now. I’m certainly not going to be the one to tell her.

“Yeah?”

“Um, I kind of already know this part. Can we move along?” She shows her full set of teeth and I fight the urge to smack her across her cute little ass.

“Okay, Miss smart-aleck. What do you do next?”

She refocuses on the solids and stripes, setting up to break. In a flash, the white ball sails into the air before it skips along the table.

I tap my pool cue against the wood floor, smirking. “What was that you were saying?”

“I was saying—”

All traces of her smile disappear, replaced with a tiny furrow between her brows. She rights herself and stands tall, shoulders high, almost as if she’s gearing up for a fight. I shift to my right to stare at the person who seems to have riled her—tall, dark, and seriously preppy. Tan khaki pants, a light yellow polo shirt and short, cropped hair. He looks like he stepped out of a catalogue and carries himself with a sense of bullshit entitlement. Something is definitely off about him, making the hairs at the back of my neck stand on end.

“Connor,” she greets him, her tone flat. And shit, the name suits him perfectly. It screams *.

He walks over to us, ignoring the fact that I’m standing next to her. “Ember, it’s good to see you. You look….” His eyes drag down her body then back up and my skin crawls. She crosses one arm over her chest, using the pool cue in her hand to block him from coming any closer. He’s already close enough. I can smell the alcohol leaking out from his pores. “…Gorgeous,” he finishes. I catch her wince, like if she could wipe the compliment off, she would.

“Thanks,” she acknowledges with a nonchalant air. Then she turns to me with a tight smile. “Vance, this is Connor. Connor, Vance.”

Connor extends his hand but I refuse to shake it. He snickers as I nod my head, letting his hand drop to his waist. “Would you mind giving us a second, Vance?”

The condescending way he says my name makes my pulse throb in my neck. Itchy fingers flex at my sides, aching for just one punch. I look over at Ember to be sure she’s all right with this.

“It’s okay.” Her fake smile returns, and I’m not sure that it is okay. But she’s a big girl and can take care of herself.

With a nod, I reluctantly step back. Not far enough away where I can’t still pick up bits of their conversation—especially the part where this piece of shit is her ex-boyfriend. That part comes through loud and clear. It ticks me off because I should have pegged him earlier.

My head tilts as I strain to listen. Normally, I might feel bad about eavesdropping. But remorse isn’t remotely close to what stirs in my chest.

“Hey.” Julian appears beside me. “Who’s the douche?”

“Her ex-boyfriend,” I ground out, still watching him like a hawk.

“Really? I can’t picture that at all.”

“Join the club.”

My blood boils when I hear him speak. “Still wearing Mickey Mouse, huh? Aren’t you a bit old for that?” Ember’s lips curl into a sneer and she says something I can’t make out. I take a step forward and Julian places a firm hand on my arm.

“Vance,” he warns. “Let it be. She can handle herself.”