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“I’m not picky.” Shooting her a smug grin, she corrected herself almost instantly, “Not with my drinks, at least.”
Holding a twenty-dollar bill between my fingers, I nodded at the bartender. “Two Coors Lights, please.”
“You got it, man.” He swapped the bill for two bottles.
Handing Andi her beer, I held the neck of mine toward her. “Cheers.”
“To what?”
“Do we always have to have a reason to cheers to something?”
“I mean, kind of.” Andi looked at me as if I were crazy.
Fine, I’ll cave.
“Cheers to shitty hotel rooms, road trips, and dirty little secrets.” I winked before clinking my bottle to hers and taking a swig.
After quenching my thirst, I nodded toward an open pool table. “You ever play?”
“As much as I wish I could tell you I’d kick your ass, I’m actually quite terrible at pool.”
“Are you willing to learn from the professional?”
Andi’s eyes searched around the bar before landing back on mine. “Oh … Are you trying to say that’s you?”
“I’m offended that you’re doubting my skills.” I reared back with a playful gasp.
“Professional is a stretch, don’t you think? I’m pretty sure you went pro for hockey, not pool.”
“Guess you’re going to have to let me prove it to you.” Placing my hand on her lower back, I guided her toward the open pool table.
After collecting all the balls from each pocket, I snagged the triangle hanging on the wall and began placing each ball inside. With the one-ball at the peak, and the eight-ball in the middle, I alternated the rest between solids and stripes, packing the balls into a tight triangle to ensure the best break possible.
As I prepared the tip of my pool stick with some chalk, I told Andi how it was all going to go down.
“I’d offer to let you break the balls up, but honestly, I think I could really impress you here, so I’m choosing this moment to be a little bit selfish.”
“Show me what you got, Hotshot.” Andi leaned against the pool table with her beer in one hand and the pool stick in the other. And fuck if that didn’t turn me on.
The simplicity of it all, the fact that we were hours away from home with no one we knew in sight, and we were making do with what was around, relaxed me in a way I hadn’t felt in a long time.
The Neon were on the road again this weekend, and for the first time in what felt like forever, the game wasn’t on my mind. I’d already made a mental note to call Carter for a recap after this trip of ours and have him fill me in on anything I needed to know.
It had been years since I allowed hockey or my job to take a back seat—let alone for a woman.
With deep concentration, I lined up my stick with the cue ball, pulling it back just a couple of times to make sure my grip was comfortable. Once I finally felt ready to take my shot, with perfect precision, I pulled back the pool stick one more time and pushed it forward, hitting the balls perfectly, sending them in all different directions on the green felt.
“Okay, so you can hit a few balls into the holes at one time. So what?” Andi rolled her eyes, trying yet failing at the same time not to act like she was impressed.
Taking a couple steps closer to her, I realized just how much I loved it when she wasn’t wearing heels. I easily towered over her petite frame and got high on the fresh smell of vanilla that invaded my senses.
“It may look like I just sank a couple of balls in the first shot, but what I really did…” Shrinking down by her side, I set up my first shot after the break, aiming for a solid across the table with a clear path. “I broke up the balls so perfectly that I set myself up so I can run this whole table and not allow you a single turn.”
Taking my shot, I wasn’t surprised when the ball rolled in exactly how I’d planned.
“Prove it,” she challenged me once more.
“You sound like a betting woman.” My lips lifted into a smirk.
