Page 38 of Unbearable

We spotted a few familiar faces—neighbors and friends from around Woodstone—who greeted us with nods and waves. The atmosphere was infectious, and even Trent seemed to lighten up a bit, his usual cheerful self starting to emerge. In the corner, a vacant pool table beckoned, its green felt surface pristine, and the cues neatly lined up.

“Want to play while we wait for a table to open up?” I suggested, eyebrows raised, pointing to the table.

“Let’s do it. You are on my team though.” Dorianpointed to me. We walked over and he grabbed a few cues, handing one to each of us.

Trent’s charming smile gleamed as he and Colt took their positions at one end of the table. “Looks like it’s you and me.” Colt grunted in response.

With my cues in hand, Trent racked the balls and said to me, “Ladies first.” I pulled back and let the balls scatter.

“Stripes,” I declared. After pocketing a couple more cues, it was Trent and Colt’s turn.

“Ladies first,” Colt said to Trent, who rolled his eyes and took a perfect shot.

Trent’s eyes flickered with amusement. “What can I say? I’m a natural,” he said with a mischievous grin. He lined up his next shot and the cue ball was sent spinning across the felt, sinking a solid with ease. He continued to sink a few more balls before finally missing on a more complicated shot.

“Looks like we are off to a good start,” he remarked.

The game progressed, and Trent’s effortless shots complemented my own calculated approach. Both of us were intently focused on our next move. While Dorian and Colt both were mediocre at best and heavily relied on Trent and me to carry our respective teams. I forgot how competitive we both could be.

Colt missed his shot yet again. “Fuck, I need a drink for this.”

“Me too.” Dorian scratched his head. They took off for the bar, and Trent slid up behind me as I was lining up my shot.

“Need some pointers, Dot?” His tone was teasing, tinged with admiration as he acknowledged my skill. I wasn’t sure when his mood had shifted from ignoring me to teasing me.

I shot him a sidelong glance. “I think I’ve got it covered. Thanks,” I said, lining up my shot, calculating internally how it would play out.

Undeterred, Trent chuckled softly, his gaze lingering on me with interest. “Just offering my expertise.” He shrugged nonchalantly. “But it seems like you’re already a pro.”

I stuck my tongue out at him in jest, expecting a smart-ass verbal remark in return. But to my surprise, he fucking grabbed my tongue in between his fingers.

I jerked back, shoving him off. “What the hell was that?”

His grin widened mischievously. “You stick your tongue out like it’s up for grabs, so I grabbed it.” His teasing words belied the intensity in his eyes as he brought his fingers up to his mouth and lightly sucked.

My mouth dropped open. “You are something else, Trenton Akers.”

I brushed off the encounter and focused back on my next shot. I squinted my eyes to focus, taking the shot and sinking two more balls in the process. “I’ve had my fair share of practice. Being an architect doesn’t hurt either.”

The spatial awareness and precisions I’ve honed throughout my career, translated to the game, allowing me to calculate angles and visualize shots. It was a skill that had served me well, both in my career and in college during many pool competitions, which helped fund my latte addiction. Girl’s got to caffeinate somehow.

Trent’s mood had suddenly lightened compared to the last week, and we had a friendly exchange that seemed to ease some of the tension between us.

Colt and Dorian returned to the table. Dorian handedme a tequila soda that I didn’t ask for but definitely needed.

“What, nothing for me?” Trent said before taking his shot, missing it.

“You didn’t ask.” Dorian shrugged.

“Neither did Dotty,” Trent replied, giving him a confused look, to which Dorian simply shrugged.

“Twin telepathy.” I smiled. We always messed with Trent growing up. Since Dorian and I could always read each other so well, we would often do things just like this, and Trent would be left confused.

“Exactly.” Dorian winked.

The game continued back and forth until Dorian and I secured the win, despite his limited contributions. As we were about to return the cues, I saw Henry approaching, Chris trailing behind.

“Hey, what’s up, guys? I didn’t know you were going out tonight,” Henry greeted us, directing his question to Trent, but it rubbed me the wrong way. I brushed off the feeling, giving them both a smile.

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