Page 69 of Soulmates

I blinked at him. “As in the back rooms that you thought I was trying to get to when I first ran into you?”

Amusement laced Sam’s voice when he answered. “One of them.”

“What exactly are the back rooms?” I’d heard rumors over the years, mostly centering around various illegal activities. But Sam wouldn’t take me to a drug bar or a brothel, right?

“My sanctuary.”

Well, that totally cleared things up.

I laced my fingers with Sam’s, and to my surprise, he didn’t comment. We rounded a corner where a bouncer blocked our path to a door. He didn’t ask for our IDs or any other passes. He did shoot me a curious glance, but he didn’t say anything as he nodded to Sam and opened the door for us.

Beyond the door was another hallway. Doors were open along either side, offering glimpses of the rooms beyond. Sam pulled me into the first room on the right. It was a large space with pool tables taking up most of it. Lamps with green shades hung over the pool tables, creating little pockets of light that were easily swallowed up by the dark wooden walls. Racks of cues lined the walls, and an alcove at the back of the room housed a couple of couches around a coffee table. The floor was made of hundreds of little tiles creating a mosaic of red flower petals scattered on the white floor.

The room was completely empty, but I could hear the murmur of voices in other rooms.

“Are the rest of the rooms the same as this one?” I asked, still staring around the space.

“No. Every room is different. We play other games besides pool, and there’s a bar farther down the hall.”

“What do you play for?”

“For whatever we want as long as it’s not cash. I don’t allow money back here.” He closed the ornate wooden doors with a soft thud. “Have you ever played before?”

I shook my head. I’d watched Nacio and Orlando play enough times to understand the game, but my brothers weren’t exactly good at sharing time at the table with me.

“What are you good at?” Sam asked.

“I was halfway decent at Texas Hold’em the last time I played. It’s been a while though.”

“Someday we’ll have to play that. We won’t have that room to ourselves though, and I don’t particularly want to share you tonight.” He crossed to the wall, lifted a pool cue from the rack, and held it out to me.

“What are the stakes?” You didn’t grow up with two older brothers without learning to lay out the rules of any deal, game, or darebeforeyou agreed to play.

“You just said you’ve never played before. There are no stakes… yet. For now we’re teaching you how to play.”

I took the cue from him and watched as he racked up the balls and selected his own stick.

Sam explained a bunch of techniques and stances while I watched his lips move and took in only about half of what he said. I was going to be so screwed when we actually started playing. Sam shot the white ball into the triangle of colored balls, and they scattered over the table.

“All right. Your turn, Siren.” He beckoned me closer to the table. “You want to hit the cue ball into the six and send it into that corner pocket. Do you remember what I told you about ghost balls?”

Not really. “I think so.”

Sam smirked as if he could see straight though the lie. “You want the cue ball to end up here.” He made an arch with his fingers next to the six ball, which I was somehow supposed to pocket.

He moved so he was standing beside me, and then his hands were on my waist, moving me into position. His hands covered mine on the pool cue, and I could feel his warmth bleeding into my back as he bent over the table with me.

“Loosen your grip on the stick,” he murmured. “You want to be relaxed. Any tension will mess up your shot.”

He guided my body through the motions, and the white ball went sailing into the green ball, sending it straight into the pocket.

I blinked at the table in surprise. “Um. Now what happens?”

“Since you pocketed a ball, you shoot again. Try it on your own this time.”

My shot was beyond pitiful. I barely clipped the white ball, so it rolled a grand total of several inches forward with no speed or power.

“Now it would normally be my turn because you didn’t pocket one of your balls, but since I don’t need the practice, you’re going again.”

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