Page 127 of The Trouble With Bad Boys

Her face heats, and I notice the glossy look in her eyes. If I’m not mistaken, it has nothing to do with the alcohol and everything to do with what I suggested.

She exhales a sigh. “Well, I guess you have a deal. I’m in.”

When she leans over the table and lines up her cue to fire off her shot, I realize I’m not messing with any first-timer.

“I take it this isn’t your first rodeo?” I drawl, and she shakes her head.

“Furthest thing from it.” She chuckles. “My brother whooped my ass at pool growing up, and I don’t like to lose, most of all to him. We have that whole competitive sibling bond.”

I chuckle, remembering the many times I got into it with Wyatt growing up. Although ours was playing basketball in the driveway. The older we got, the harder it became for her, though. I have height on her, but she had a mean three-point shot.

“Stripes,” Ava calls and points toward the pocket before she leans over to line up her stick again.

When she slides around the table, she plays it off innocently when she brushes past me, her arm skimming across mine.

Her voice drops low. “Sorry, excuse me.”

I press my lips together and clench my jaw. She brushes across the front of my pants. I watch the curve of her ass when she leans over to make her next shot.

“Someone has decided to play with fire tonight.” My voice drops, and she flashes her gaze at me over her shoulder, playing coy.

For the next few minutes, I’m forced to stand there and watch as she practically cleans house. She misses after her fifth shot, but it isn’t long until I miss and she finishes us off.

“I win. I win.” She grins, bowing before she finishes her drink and slams the empty glass on the counter.

I reach for her hand and pull her toward me, earning me a high-pitched yelp.

“Don’t tell me you’re a sore loser,” she whispers when she notices the serious look in my eye.

I shake my head. “Not at all. I’m looking forward to having you pressed against me out on that dance floor. Even if I do have two left feet.”

She giggles, and I grab her hand, leading her across the bar, past where we were seated earlier, and out onto the dance floor.

The song changes to “Drunk on Your Love” by Brett Eldredge. The moment we step onto the floor, I tug Ava into my arms, and she comes to me easily.

The dance floor is full, so I stay toward the front, away from most of the crowd. My hand finds her hip, the other folding with mine.

There’s a noticeable difference in our height, but she doesn’t seem to mind it in the least. After a minute of her not saying anything, though, she tilts her head back and gazes up at me.

“So I know the deal was that if I won, then you owed me a drink and a dance. I’d like to change my prize if you don’t mind.”

She says, her hair falling out of her face. Her cheeks warm, and I’m not sure if it’s because of what she’s about to say or from our close proximity.

“You call the shots,” I drawl. “What do you have in mind?”

She drags her bottom lip between her teeth.

“You mentioned having a room I could stay in if I needed a place for the night.”

I nod, my eyes pausing on her mouth, waiting for what she’s about to say.

“The offer still stands.”

She smiles. “Okay, I mean, at least for tonight. Right? I trust you, and it would give me some time to figure something out. I could get a hotel, but I’ll be honest, I don’t have a job yet, so I don’t have enough to pay for a week in a hotel. I hadn’t exactly prepared for this to happen.”

“No, I completely get it. You kind of had this all dropped in your lap, and I’m offering.”

“Are you sure your roommates won’t mind?”

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