Page 14 of Tied to You
My shoulders bounce with my laugh. “No, I’m not gay. I just like my men a little less rough around the edges.” Another lie, and I’m forced to take a breath.
“Ah, babe, you’ll find the right man.”
Who says I’m looking?
Sophie tugs me into an embrace, and I smell the strong hum of alcohol on her. I shouldn’t have just told her to go tell a biker she’s into him. I instantly feel shit for giving her hope where I don’t even know what his situation is. She’s clearly had a bit to drink. Damn, what is it with women when they’re together in the ladies’ bathroom?
Before I can tell her to rethink, she lets me go and swings open the door, practically skipping away.
Making my way upstairs, I navigate the crowd to where I see biker boy satperched on the edge of one of the pool tables up here. “You get lost?”
I step closer to him, and he stands to full height, holding out a shot glass. “No, I didn’t get lost. Met one of your admirers.”
“Which one?” he smirks.
I throw my head back, swallowing the fiery liquid. “Sophie.”
His face drops.
“She seems keen.” As if every blood vessel in him just popped, his face reddens before my eyes. “Aw, you’re actually blushing,Travis.”
Thrusting the bottle of vodka into my chest, he looks thoroughly pissed off with me mocking him. “You need to catch up. We’re four ahead of you.”
“Only four?”
He glares. “You’re fucking irritating, you know that?”
I laugh. “Why?” I step into his personal space, looking up at him. “Because you thought you could embarrass me tonight by telling me to dress up?” I ignore his chest hitting mine when he breathes, and I turn, placing the bottle on the table, along with the shot glass. It’s chilly up here, but I slide my jacket off my shoulders, placing it over the back of the chair. Flicking my hair over one shoulder, I catch his eyes before I pour myself four consecutive shots, downing them each in turn.
He watches, as do the others.
Slamming the shot glass on the table, I stroke my thumb on the corner of my lip, catching a small drop that escapes past my lips.
Travis watches and his lips part, making me smile.
He may say one thing, but his body is telling me something entirely different.
Chapter Five
MOLLIE
Forty minutes later, we—or more so, Travis, decides to settle all of this over a game of pool. He thought it would be done in best of three, but after making up some bullshit about me double tapping the ball, here we are, six games in, all tied, final game.
You take a shot of Vodka if you; pot the white, pocket one of the opponent’s balls, or if you lose.
I’m pretty steaming, and he is starting to sway. It’s not obvious to many others, but I see it. He takes his shot, failing to pocket his last red ball before he could move on to the black.
He gets a few jeers from the men around us, and I wince, mocking him, hurting his ego. “Ready to finally admit I’m better than you?”
His gaze lights up my centre. The longer we’ve played the more I’ve goaded him. I am definitely walking on thin ice here, but like an addiction, I just can’t seem to stop. Throw in alcohol, and I’m practically verbally assaulting him at every opportunity I get.
I don’t know what I’m hoping to achieve here? To get a reaction from him? For him to back off?
I honestly don’t know.
Handing me the wooden cue, I take my last shot with little stress. The yellow ball rolls elegantly across the green bed, sliding down the throat of the pocket.
Dean stands to his feet. “Shit, Trav. She might actually be about to win.”
