Page 26 of Hounds Ascend
“Hi,” he beams.
“Hi,” I say, my voice sweet and soft.
“Come here often?” The one line he uses all the time still makes my smile widen every time he asks.
“Nope. Not here.”
“How about over there?” He points to the pool tables.
“Nope. Not over there either, but Ihavecome on a pool table before.” I nudge him lightly with my elbow. His tongue slides across his bottom lip before he pulls it back into his mouth.
“Mmm, yes you have.”
“Speaking of pool tables…” I trail off, a grin on my face at the defeated expression on Cass’s.
“About that. We were talking to Micah, and he said the best pool tables in town are right here and they’re free.”
“Sounds perfect to me. Let’s flip for the break.”
“No, no, no. How about we lag for the break?” he asks, his eyebrows arched.
I look at him, confused. “What’s that?”
“It’s where we both take a cue ball and shoot it down the table. Whoever can make it bounce off that rail and roll back toward them, getting as close to the rail they shot from without hitting it, wins. Look, I’ll show you,” he says, already in route to grab a cue off the wall.
He gets down to shoot, aims the cue ball straight at the rail opposite him, and shoots. The ball rolls at a low to average speed as it connects with the rail and begins rolling back toward him. It stops at the third diamond from the rail he started with.
“See, if you would’ve shot and your ball would’ve gotten closer to the rail than mine, then you break, and I rack. Get it?” he asks.
My gears are turning in my head, wondering how I’m going to beat him at his own game. I nod in understanding and grab the cue ball from a nearby table. I sift through the pool cues on the wall and opt for the heaviest one they have. I meet Cass at the head of the table. I kiss him on the cheek before I set up on the cue to shoot.
“Good luck,” I grin.
He smirks at me. “You too, baby.”
We both get down on our cues and Cass counts.
“One...Two...Three.” On three, we both tap the ball. Mine is traveling slightly faster than Cass’s but I hope that’s a good thing. My cue hits the rail first and comes barreling toward us. There’s no way it’s going to stop before it hits the rail. I curse under my breath when it bounces off the rail just as Cass’s stopsbetween the first diamond and the rail that I wasn’t supposed to hit.
“Rack ‘em, rack girl.”
Cass and I have barely finished one game before we have an audience. Clayton, Micah, Raven, and Linc stand by looking on. I’m not sure when Linc got here or if he’s been here the whole time and I just didn’t notice.
We’re on the second game now. Cass has just broke and made a solid, so now he’s working on knocking them in. I wait patiently as he makes one ball after the other. Finally, he shoots his last solid too hard because he put too much English on it in an attempt to gain more control over where the cue ball would stop.
He leaves the cue ball in the perfect spot, and I see the run before I ever step up to the table. Our audience is silent, intently watching the game. The only sound in the room is the music playing in the background and the sound of my heart hammering in my ear. I want this win, and I want it bad, but I’m nervous and my track record shows that when I’m nervous, I generally fuck up.
I take my first shot slow and easy and knock the nine-ball in the side pocket. From here, I pick off the stripes with ease until my last shot.
“You might be in trouble, son,” Clayton pipes up from the nearest table that he’s leaned against.
“Told you, she’s a good shot.” Cass’s voice isn’t laced with sarcasm, it sounds genuine.
I almost have the game in the bag until now. I sink the last stripe on the table and the cue ball stops on the other side of Cass’s last ball, making that six-ball the only thing between me and winning this game.
“Fuck,” I breathe, examining my handiwork.
The only way I’m going to get remotely close to that eight ball is to come off the rail and bank it, and banks aren’t my forte. I sigh as I line up the kick-shot, knowing it’s do or die. If I miss, and I likely will, then Cass has the game won.
