Page 4 of Overexposed

“Maybe,” I said, grinning in spite of myself. “Did you want to play?”

“Only if I can set the terms for the wager.”

Oh, now I was intrigued.

“I’m listening…”

chapter

two

Stella

“Still time to back out,” I suggested as I eyed the pool table. We’d carried my pitcher, glass, and the nachos over. He’d finished most of his but he hadn’t touched mine. He did, however, order a fresh pitcher for me along with another beer for him.

“I think not,” he told me with a faint smile as I chalked the tip of my cue. He’d racked the balls we acquired after he dropped the pair of twenties on our friendly bartender…whose name was Flip.

I hoped he’d made that up because it seemed unnecessarily cruel to do to your child. “I’m just offering you options,” I said, setting the chalk aside and reclaiming my glass for a long drink.

“I’m good.” Amusement sanded over the words despite his controlled expression. He really didn’t want to be noticed and that thousand-watt smile probably brought all the lookie-loos to the yard. I didn’t have the heart to tell him that the ball cap was doing nothing to hide his famous face.

“Well, then keep your eyes on me and get your best flirt ready.” I winked before I leaned over to do the first break.

“My eyes are right where you want them.” Since he was behind me when he said it, I didn’t doubt he was looking atmy ass. I gave it a little shake for him before I refocused my attention. The jeans I wore were relaxed and comfortable. They looked good but they were far from skin tight.

I sent the cue ball flying across the table in a perfect crack to break. The balls scattered and the solid red dropped into the corner pocket. That was one.

“Nice,” Gem said, the compliment seemingly genuine. “Still sticking with your bet?”

“I’m no welcher,” I said as I took another long swallow of my margarita. They were perfect and the buzz was polishing away the roughness of the day. “You said you wanted me to shock you—again.”

Which in and of itself was kind of funny. Apparentlyeveryonethought he was his twin and the fact I didn’t had truly stunned him. Funny and sad really. Glass down, I circled the table, looking for my shot.

He sighed, and I had to bite back another smile. “You just want to get out of what I win.”

“Oh, you’re not winning it,” he said with a ridiculous amount of confidence.

“Four in the right pocket.” I made the shot and it went right in like a good little ball. “Aww, you’re going to hurt my feelings.”

With a dry look, Gem snorted. “I told you the guy already thinks I’m Seven. Hitting on him is a hard no.” The bartender kept glancing at us. I didn’t think the guy was gay in the slightest, but the hero worship when he looked at Gem was funny.

“Yet you took the wager.” At my reminder, he smirked.

“Accepting a wager doesn’t mean I’ve already lost, Slick.” The exaggerated drawl on the last word made me grin.

“Fair enough. Six in the side.” I took the shot and sank it. Gem tracked my progress as I lined up each shot. After the fourth one dropped in the called pocket, I drifted back to my nachos and ate a loaded one.

The vibrant-blue eyes seemed to burn as we locked gazes. Instead of commenting, he just shook his head and took a long drink of his beer.

Touching my tongue to my lips, I held his gaze for another beat before turning back to the table. The weight of his gaze was back on my ass. I called the next ball and sank it, but it was a narrow thing, brushing the eight ball, which drifted far too close to a pocket for my taste.

The flood of adrenaline added a little weight to the thumping of my heart. It also added the slightest tremor to my hands. I mean, it could have been the margaritas, but I was almost certain it was the adrenaline.

My next ball didn’t drop into its pocket. I clicked my tongue against my teeth as I glanced over my shoulder. “Guess it’s your turn.”

“Guess it is.” He put his hands on my hips and nudged me away from the table. Unlike me, he didn’t pace the table nor did he give it any kind of study. He just lined up his shot. “Striped red in the corner.”

The snap of the ball was followed by the crack as he struck his target and then it dropped. He barely waited for it to have vanished before he followed the cue to line up his next shot.

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