Page 30 of One Chance to Stay
“I’ve played a game or two.”
He grabbed the cue off the table before going to the wall and pulling a second stick free. Like always, he said little, but as he held it out for me, his actions spoke volumes. I’d knock around a few balls if it meant spending time with Seamus. Now, if only I could get him talking.
“You don’t work in a bar without learning to play.” Seamus prepared to break while I rambled. “On leather night, there’s a stack of quarters ten deep. Those men take it seriously. Too bad I didn’t wear my chaps tonight.”
He hit the cue ball with enough force that I couldn’t hide my surprise. In his younger years, did he frequent the local watering hole and hustle the locals? Did Firefly even have a watering hole? Or did he learn coming here?
“Solids,” he called.
“You didn’t serve,” I rambled. “You don’t have the demeanor for it. Don’t get me wrong, you’ve perfected the silent gaze, but there’s something different about it. I bet it was your dad. Am I right?”
“Marine Corps,” he said as he sank two more balls.
“Did you move around a lot?” Yes, I fished for the reason he wound up in Firefly.
“Thirteen bases.” He took the next shot, missing the pocket. “Dad retired and moved here to be closer to family.” He gestured to the table. “Your turn.”
I got into place, setting my fingers on the felt. I kept changing the position of my hand. When I settled the stick into place, it fell off. I tried resetting, grumbling.
“This is painful,” Seamus said. He set his hand on the table, showing me the correct position.
“Like this?”
I did it wrong. He shook his head. On the second try, he laid his hand over mine, pushing my fingers into place. He lingered,and I stole a glance out of the corner of my eye. Was he doing the same?
“Stick goes here?”
“We should have played for money.”
He reached around my back, guiding the stick into place. He gave it a quick back-and-forth motion, and I nodded. When he didn’t move, I had confirmation. The other night wouldn’t be a one-time ordeal. Having him pressed against me reminded me of the bear spooning me throughout the night. I’m pretty sure my erection was as hard as the stick in my hands.
“I’ll bet you a repeat of the other night,” I whispered. Seamus’s body tensed. Over my shoulder, I shot him a grin. “I meant listening to your vinyl.”
He stepped back. “If I win, I enjoy my music without your yammering.” Now he smiled? This old man thought he won the bet before I took the first shot. I’d try not to take it personally. In the meantime, I only needed a little magic to win.
Bartender magic.
“Nine corner pocket.” My body relaxed as I narrowed an eye, lining up the shot. Crack. “Eleven in the side.” Crack. “Ten and twelve in the corner.” I wasn’t pulling trick shots on Seamus, but the cue ball did exactly as I demanded.
“You hustled me.”
“Come on, Seamus. You could still win.” I moved about the table before I sank the thirteen. “Never challenge a bartender at pool.” Fourteen rolled into the side pocket as the cue ball tapped fifteen.
I had an easy shot. “Want to renegotiate?”
His eyes narrowed. Seamus didn’t like losing, or… I couldn’t really tell. His face had frozen in that perpetual scowl. Seamus suffered from resting brute face. I didn’t break eye contact as I took the final shot. No luck needed as the eight ball fell in the pocket.
I set the stick on the table and moved in front of him. He might be impossible to read, but if I discovered anything, he spoke through action. Navigating the potential landmines only became more difficult as I had barely gotten to sort out my own baggage. Complicated didn’t quite cover it, and yet something about him made the next instant effortless.
From where he held onto the pool stick, I brushed the back of my hand against his. For a moment, I returned to the softness of his bed, his hands studying me as if he were studying for an exam. He saved his sharp retort, instead biting his bottom lip. I might not speak it fluently, but I had learned a few words in his language.
“Ahem.”
Seamus jumped, the stick falling from his hand and smacking against the wood flooring. Walter could have witnessed the entire exchange. I offered Seamus an escape.
“And that’s why you don’t hustle the hustler.” I smacked my hands against my chest, pumping my palms into the air. “Walter, do you want to play a game? I promise I won’t take all your money. Seamus, on the other hand…”
I turned to see that Seamus had already escaped, returning to the room with the recliners. Our moment had come to a screeching halt, but I had a feeling it’d be memorable. Letting out a lengthy sigh, I couldn’t help but smile as Walter held up his empty glass.
