Page 36 of Romeo

Was that fair? Hell no. But this was one reason most MCs considered women as property and not as equals.

As for Romeo, he had a reputation. He didn’t deny it. He owned it.

“He don’t wanna be a friend, Maddie. He ain’t helpin’ you with pool outta the goodness of his fuckin’ heart. He wants somethin’ from you.”

Well, wasn’t that ironic? “You mean, like you do?”

“Just lookin’ out for you.”

“I’m perfectly capable of knowing who’s a true friend and who… isn’t.” They needed to get this game started because she was beginning to like his embrace a little more than she should. “How about this bet? You win, I come over to your place. I win, I don’t.”

Suddenly, he released her hands and stepped back, giving her some breathing room. He grabbed her chin and turned her head, attempting to read her expression. “Know you’re gonna lose, right?”

She shrugged. “If I do, I do.”

“Then, gonna take that fuckin’ bet.”

She figured he would grab the carrot she dangled in front of him.

He locked his dark eyes with hers. “Just wanna be clear… Comin’ over to my crib don’t mean you comin’ over for a cuppa coffee and some conversation.”

“I’m aware of what it means.” She certainly was.

With a cocky grin, he released her chin and tipped his head toward the table. “Then, break.”

He thought it was going to be an easy win. She’d have to do her best and prove otherwise. “Now you won’t help me in hopes I lose?”

“You’re gonna lose and I can’t fuckin’ wait. Don’t wanna hear any fuckin’ complaints when you do.”

Jesus.The arrogance.

That only bolstered her determination to win.

After lining up her shot, she pulled back the stick, then struck the cue ball with as much force as she had.

The crack of the balls striking each other was even louder than the music. She held her breath while they headed off in different directions. Just like she hoped, one solid colored ball dropped into a side pocket, and another fell into the far corner pocket.

With her eyes wide, she whispered, “Wow.”

“Beginner’s luck,” he muttered.

“I’ll take any luck I can get.” She analyzed the table and where all remaining solid balls stopped.

To win, she had to pocket five more solids before sinking the eight-ball. All without missing a shot. Without scratching. Without launching a ball over the rail. Without accidentally knocking in one of his striped balls.

She glanced over at Romeo. “Are we calling pockets?”

His lips twitched. “No need.”

Oh yes, he was so damn arrogant.

She shrugged and studied the table again with her bottom lip gripped tightly between her teeth.

“Just take your time,” he encouraged.

But she heard it in his voice. He didn’t believe she’d make the next shot.

It was highly possible that she might not.

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