Page 120 of His Last Shot
She continues. “They took out half of the pool tables and donated them to a couple of homeless shelters, then turned that half of the pool hall into a small restaurant. Micah will run that part as soon as the renovations are done.”
I sweep my hand over her hair, soaking in every word. “Wow. So he will finally run his own restaurant.”
“Yeah, he’s pretty excited.” The thought causes her to smile. “But you want to know the best part?”
I hold my breath, hanging on to her every word.
“We put in a small espresso machine.” With a surge of pride, she lifts her chin, knowing how happy this will make me. “So no more lime club sodas.”
My head dips, the laughter pouring out, vibrating in my chest. “I will have to come and have a cup then.”
“Yes, you will.”
There’s a sudden heavy thickness with unspoken words as I summon the courage to ask my next question, rubbing my thumb along her tan skin. “Rachel, why is my name on that card?”
Her fingers stall in my hair, and she composes herself. “Micah didn’t want it named after him, and neither did Slick. So, I suggested your name.” We stare, an invisible string of emotions pulling us. “My life began in that bar the day I met you. Plus, Micah and Slick want you to offer pool lessons there if you’re willing. But no pressure—”
“Yes.” The answer spills out of my mouth.
“Yeah?” she asks, perking up.
I nod, then shift her so I can pull out my keys. Her keychain dangles between us. “I can’t believe you got this to me.”
“Micah heard it through some mutual friends that you were offering lessons in your garage. Brandon was an old high school buddy of his.”
The string pulls tighter. “I was floored when he gave this to me.”
She takes the eight ball, pulling it to her eye, squinting, and looking inside. “I love this picture.” She lowers the keychain, and I place the keys on the table as she continues. “After this”—her fingers find the star necklace—“I had to do something. Somehow, I needed you to know that I was here. Still loving you.”
“I look at it. All the time.” She smiles and begins slipping, so I tug her tighter against me. “So, how is Brandon?”
“He’s good,” she replies, bobbing her head. “He said that he could tell you loved the game. You taught him a lot. He joined a pool league, and they went to Vegas. He won it for the team.”
Pride fills my heart after hearing this. “I love that. I have been offering lessons in my garage for the last few years now. It started out to keep my mind busy, but eventually, I fell in love with it.”
“Well, now, you can do it with me watching from the sidelines.”
Works for me.
Anticipation builds at the thought. “You don’t say?” She nods. With a tender touch, I pull her closer and press a soft kiss to her shoulder, the whisper of her breath against my ear. “Thank you,” I whisper.
“You’re welcome.”
I continue to pepper kisses, trailing up her neck, breaking only to ask, “We never forgot each other, did we?”
“No, we didn’t,” she replies with a slow exhale, then giggles when I reach the ticklish spot right below her ear, the sound vibrating throughout my whole body.
I stop laughing, anxious to ask the next question. “I know that day in the hospital, you said you were single.” Doubt settles around my heart. “But did you see anyone while—”
“No.” With a jolt, my head whips up, the truth hitting me like a physical blow. Deliberately, her thumb reaches and skates over my bottom lip. “No,” she answers again. “There has only ever been you.”
My fingers sink into the softness of her hair at the back of her head. “Me neither,” I confess.
Not one date, not one lingering thought of she’s cute. Nothing. It was always only Rachel.
Her eyes darken. “Kiss me,” she commands.
Without hesitation, I obey.
