Page 7 of Her Paramedic
Talia:I’m sure you aren’t. I’ll text you the address. Goodnight, Slate.
Slate:Goodnight, Talia
He tossed his phone aside, grabbed the remote, and rewound the show to the last part he remembered seeing. He’d gotten through three episodes when his phone signaled he’d gotten a text. It was from Killian, telling him he’d landed. Slate sent a thumbs-up emoji before turning the television off. He took his bowl into the kitchen and washed it before going into his bedroom.
He didn’t have to work tomorrow and decided to look for an original antenna for the Thunderbird. He might even drop by to see Ace at the office and see how things were going. They were still working on their expansion, and Slate knew Killian was right when he said he couldn’t remain a silent partner forever ifthey continued to expand. He already dropped in occasionally, but would adjust as he needed to.
After putting his phone on the charger, Slate slid into bed and quickly found sleep.
2
When Talia pulled into the sports bar parking lot, Slate was already there, leaning against his car as the lights outside of the building illuminated him. The space beside him was free, and she took it. It was seven in the evening, still early for the crowd the bar usually got, so it shouldn’t be too crowded.
“Hey,” she greeted, getting out of the car.
Slate turned to her, and the way he looked her over made Talia feel naked when she was far from it. The December air was cold, and she wore black skinny jeans, calf-high wine-colored boots, and a bell-sleeve sweater. She left her coat in the car, since she didn’t anticipate being in the cold for an extended period.
He licked his lips. “Hello, Talia.”
“You didn’t wait long, did you?”
“You’re right on time.” He gestured towards the building. “Shall we?”
She led the way inside, and they showed their IDs before being let through. She’d been right about the crowd. A few pool tables were still available, and she led them over, wanting to claim one before ordering drinks.
Talia chose the empty table furthest from everyone else in that part of the bar while she surveyed those playing. She realized a group was playing for money.
“I can set the table up if you want to get the first round or vice versa,” Talia said, her attention on Slate.
“I’ll get the drinks,” he responded, and before she could tell him what she wanted, he left the section.
Talia grabbed the rack and the balls from the mesh holder on the side of the table. She racked the balls and decided to hit a couple while she waited for him. She could feel eyes on her as she pulled a stick off the wall. Turning back to the table, she found two men from the group she’d eyed before looking at her. She was familiar with that look and had been the one giving it when she’d discovered how good at pool she was. They were looking for their next sucker to finesse. She could have fun with this.
Talia removed the rack from the balls, placed the cue at the other end, and incorrectly held the stick. Then she struck out at the cue ball and missed. She painted a frustrated look on her face as she tried again, missing again. This time, she huffed her frustrations.
She made a show of concentrating hard, hitting the ball with enough force to only knock the first two balls away from the cluster. It was pathetic, and she was sure a child could have done better, but she made a show of being happy with herself.
Her little performance continued. She had only knocked in two balls with many tries under her belt when she saw Slate returning. She put the stick on the table and leaned against it as he stopped before her, his back to the group.
“Vodka and cranberry,” he said, handing her a glass.
She was a little surprised. It was her go-to drink when she went out. Talia remembered ordering it months ago when they’d all been out together in October, but she hadn’t expected him to remember. It must have been written on her face.
“Don’t look so surprised,” he stated with a smirk.
“I didn’t expect you to remember after ordering it once around you.”
“I have an excellent memory and a vested interest in remembering things when they come to you.” He was flirting with her again. Those green eyes sparkled with mischief.
“Is that so?” she asked, sipping her drink.
“Very much so,Talia.”
Something fluttered in Talia’s stomach at the sound of her name like that. She didn’t know how she knew he was saying it a certain way. It would sound the same to anyone else, but she knew, and a warm current buzzed inside her each time. His saying that one word, her name like that, sounded damn near like a promise of a million things.
“Do you want to go first?”
“Actually,” she started. “Do you want to teach me how to play?”
