Page 12 of The Baller

Compared to me, most people were smaller, but the moronI’d stolen the phone from was small by anyone’s standards – twig like, with weedy little arms that had never seen the inside of a gym – and the outrage died on his face when he took one look at me.

“Hey, you wanna take a picture with a lady, ask her first, dipshit,” I snarled before he could object.

Moron Two had already movedwayback. He was clearly the smarter one.

“Now fuck off, the pair of you. You can get your phone from the bartender when it’s closing time, and tell your friends.”

I stood there glaring until they beat a hasty retreat to the group of guys they were with.

All of them shuffled to another area, nearer the pool tables.

I turned back to the reason I was standing in this – now very crowded – bar, amazed that I’d been able to tear myself away from her in the first place. This time, the scowl had been replaced by a smile, a little slightly confused smile, but a smile nonetheless. And fuck meagain, she wasn’t just pretty, she was the type of beautiful poets wrote sonnets about.

“Thank you.”

I stepped closer, trying to shield her from anyone who attempted to make the same mistake. “You wanna tell me why everyone’s trying to get a selfie with you?”

“Um…” her smile dropped, and she brushed her fingers against her brow. For the first time, I noticed a large purpling bruise.

“Hey, what happened to your head?”

She hastily straightened her bangs, and the apple of her cheeks glowed bright pink, but I never got the answer because that was the moment the brunette she’d been playing pool with decided to return. She – very annoyingly – wedged herself almost in between us, wearing an even bigger andmore suspicious glare than the one I’d been privy to for the last five minutes.

“Who are you, and what do you think you’re doing?”

I had to hand it to these girls; they certainly weren’t sugar and spice and all things nice. Both could do with working on their greetings, especially this new one with her fists balled on her hips like she was about to save the day.

Except that was my job.

“Saving the day, and waiting for Goldilocks here to give me her number. Who are you?”

“I’m her best friend, and she’s not going to.”

I met her glare with my second-best smile, and I held back from telling her that setting a challenge only made it more fun. “We’ll see.”

I looked back to my mystery girl, to find her frowning at meagain.

“You’re gonna change your mind.”

“I’m not,” she huffed lightly, her brows dropping again as she sucked in her lip. “I don’t know you... do I?”

I wasn’t going to tell her I’d been wondering the exact same thing. I never got to be a mystery guy, and she’d find out soon enough. “Only in your dreams, Goldilocks.”

“Gimme a break,” scoffed the best friend. “I’m gonna need a puke bag.”

I chuckled and turned to the bartender, gesturing for six beers. He placed them down and I slid the moron’s phone over to him for safe keeping, along with a couple of twenties. Leaving two beers on the counter for the girls, I picked up the other four.

“See you later, Goldilocks. Bye, Best Friend, and try not to leave her to fend off the wolves by herself next time.”

As I walked away, all I could see in the mirror’s reflection was their confused faces.

THREE

RADLEY

It wasa good thirty seconds before either of us spoke.

“I leave you alone for two minutes, and a hot guy picks you up,” Millie grinned, snatching up the beer and taking a long draw. “And he bought you a drink.”

---