Page 8 of Distant Heart

“I don’t remember.” It wasn’t a lie to try and help the guy out; Rex really couldn’t recall. “He sucked, so I wasn’t paying attention.”

“Did he?” Illya smiled and Rexton scowled.

“That wasn’t me saying you’re any better.”

“Oh, I can guarantee I am,” he drawled. “In every sense of the word, in fact. Aren’t you even a little bit curious?”

“No.”

Now that they were alone, the air in the room suddenly seemed heavier. There was also a heady scent to it that hadn’t been there before, something warm and peppery with a hint of sweetness at the end. It was coming from Illya, and Rexton tried hard not to let on that he liked it.

Because he did, damn it.

He liked the smell a lot.

But he wouldn’t give in to a stranger just because they smelled nice.

“Try to be,” Illya suggested, grabbing one of the balls. He rolled it beneath his palm before sending it off toward another, knocking it into the nearby pocket. “How about this, I’ll play you.”

“For?” Admittedly, he shouldn’t be, but he was slightly intrigued.

Illya hummed as though thinking it over. “Let’s keep it simple. Questions and answers. I sink a ball, you answer one of my questions. You sink one, I answer one of yours.”

“What if I don’t want to know anything about you?” Rexton asked.

“Don’t be so stubborn,” he countered, moving to set up the table.

Rexton glanced at the doorway, but before he could so much as take a single step toward it, Illya spoke again.

“My patience is wearing thin. You don’t seem like the stupid sort, and you claimed to understand what tonight was all about. Do you really think running from me is your best move here, Rexton?”

“Praeda is bullshit.”

“Easy for an outsider to say.”

“So you’re fond of it?”

Illya paused while setting the triangle over the balls. “I wouldn’t put it that way…”

“Could have fooled me.”

“A lot of different things can happen on a night like this,” Illya said. “A friend of mine is planning on ordering someone to play an otome game with him, for example.”

“Yeah?” Rex looked at the pool stick when it was offered to him, but didn’t reach for it. “Is that what this is? You ordering me to play a couple rounds with you and that’ll be it?”

Illya smirked and shoved the stick against his chest, forcing him to take it. “This? This is a means to calm you down. A way to get to know one another, so to speak. Nothing more, nothing less.”

“And after we’re done withthis?”

He was quiet as he chalked the end of his stick, then got into position and took aim. The break was good, sending balls rolling, three of which went directly into pockets. “Solids.”

“Illya.” Rexton refused to be ignored.

“When was the last time you took it?” Illya asked passively, his carefree tone causing Rexton to frown. When he noticed he chuckled. “Well?”

“What?”

“I sunk a few in,” Illya pointed out. “Which means I get to ask you a question and you have to answer. So, when was the last time you stuffed that plush ass of yours? Rubber or dick, either counts.”

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