Page 16 of Power Play

“I’ll break,” I say without hesitation. “Wouldn’t want you to fuck it up.”

He stands there with his hip leaning against the table and his ankles crossed, just watching me with an eyebrow raised. He probably thinks I’m just bullshitting him and have no idea what I’m talking about.

“After you, then. Don’t fuck it up.”

“How about you worry about your own shots instead of mine,” I respond with a wink.

Stepping up to the table, I see that Cassie is back, chatting with Rex’s friends, while Gwen is still fighting over the damn jukebox. She must have lost this round because an old Alan Jackson song starts playing.

“What is this shit they’re playing on the radio?” Rex groans.

“That would be Alan Jackson. The guy over there at that table in the back keeps playing country, while Gwen has tried to line it up so that all we hear is AC/DC, Zeppelin, or Def Leppard. Seems she lost this round. Must’ve been out of dollars.”

“Fuck this,” Rex says before pulling his wallet out. “Tell her to come back over here and get this. Buy out the rest of the night. I can’t listen to this bullshit any longer.”

Looking down at the table, Rex lays a $100 bill down, which I just stare at.

“I’m serious, go get her.”

“I’ll go give this to her, then maybe she’ll actually come back over here instead of awkwardly flirting with the bad music guy,” Cassie says from across the table next to Miles.

All I can do is stare at Rex. There’s something about him I can’t quite decipher. He’s grumpy, for sure, but I get the feeling that’s not all. It feels like it’s a façade, something for people to see on the outside, not allowing people to truly understand or get close to him.

It’s intriguing.

Snapping back to reality, I realize everyone is still waiting for me to break. Lining up my shot, I hit the cue ball, causing the balls to scatter. Three balls go into the pockets, each of them striped. Looking up at Rex, I see he’s watching me. There’s a glimmer of something in his eyes, but I can’t quite figure it out.

“Damn, girl. I guess I should have asked you to go easy on me,” Harris says from across the table.

“Guess you’re solids,” I tell Rex.

“You guys let her break? Dumbasses. I’ve already lost three games against her. Had to buy a round each time. At this rate, I’ll be broke by the end of the night, so I guess I should be thanking you for giving my wallet a break,” Cassie says, chuckling as she comes back from the jukebox.

“I never said if I was good or bad,” I respond with a shrug. “You just assume because I am a chick that y’all would win. A little sexist if you ask me.”

With a wink, I walk back over to Rex.

“So, did I fuck it up?”

“Not yet. The games not over though.”

If I didn’t know any better, I would say there’s a hint of amusement in his voice, but it’s covered up by his bad attitude.

I’m not sure how to break him out of his shell or why I feel like it’s my right to do so. But fuck, I want to know what he has hidden underneath the armor he shows the world. And maybe a little of what he’s hiding beneath his clothes...

Harris makes a shot before missing the next one, meaning it’s Rex’s turn. I knew from the level of confidence he had when talking to me that he knows what he’s doing, but I didn’t expect him to be this good. In two shots, Rex is able to knock three more balls into the pockets before missing on his next shot.

“You guys are no fun to play with,” Trevor says, faking a whine.

“I didn’t decide the teams, he did,” I say, pointing at Rex, who just shrugs.

“Not my fault you suck at this. Maybe if you spent less time flirting and more time focusing on the game, you might figure out how to make a decent shot.”

“But flirting means I actually get laid, so maybe you should give it a try sometime,” Trevor counters.

“Fuck off and take your shot,” Rex grumbles.

Trevor shoots and misses—no surprise to Rex—and it’s my turn again. We each take turns, going back and forth a few times, with each shot getting a little trickier every time. With so few of our balls and so many of theirs, it becomes more and more challenging to make our shots. After two more turns, we are down to just the eight ball, and it’s my turn.

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