Again, something in her voice makes me believe her. The task of repairing my reputation pops back into my head and I make a mental note to maybe keep my distance from this Tripp guy tonight if I can. If he’s so well loved, they’ll be sure to listen to him if he has anything negative to say about me.
“Okay here’s the deal. No oneeverbeats these guys,” she says as she glares across the table where Warren and another man arestanding. I snicker seeing them so concentrated. They obviously take this seriously. “Warren likes to bounce it in, so watch for that. And Heston is a swatter. Don’t let his silence fool you, he’s quick. And?—”
She’s cut off by a whoosh and splash as a ping pong ball lands right in the front and center cup on our side. Her mouth drops open and a hand goes to her hip.
“You littleshit,” she seethes.
Warren claps his hands once and leans back laughing. I can’t help but stare. His shirt sleeves are tight around his biceps, but not so much that he looks like he’s trying to show off. His thighs fill out his jeans in a way that makes my hands sweat. And somehow the light around him is brighter than anywhere else in the room.
It’s almost mesmerizing enough to make me forget about what he did.
Almost.
The guy standing next to him, who I think is Heston, casually tosses his ball and it bounces off the rim of one cup and into another. His body barely moved, and it only took one simple flick of his wrist to make the perfect shot. I find his presence a bit frightening if I’m being honest. There’s something in his cold stare that makes me think he could easily break this table in half at any moment if it wasn’t a waste of his time and a bitch to clean up.
Blythe stomps her foot and groans with frustration.
“That’s three, ladies. Bottom’s up.,” Warren croons. He’s got both hands on the table and he’s leaning toward us with a mischievous look on his face.
Blythe and I remove the cups that had balls land in them, putting them to the side. Then she raises her beer in front of me. She’s obviously annoyed by being three cups down on the very first round already, but there’s still a glimmer of joy in her eye.
“Cheers!” she says with a smile as she taps her drink against mine and then tips hers back for a gulp.
I don’t know if she took one drink or two, but I take two of mine just in case to cover the amount we’re supposed to drink. Wiping my mouth with the back of my hand, I pick up the ball on my side and get ready to miss. Just as I’m about to toss it over to the other side, Blythe leans in and whispers in my ear.
“Get ready. As soon as I bounce mine over, bounce yours right behind mine right away, don’t wait.”
I squeeze the little orange ball in my hand and nod, determined to follow her plan of action. Warren is staring me down with his eyes narrowed like he knows Blythe is up to something. She puts her hands at her side like she’s not ready to shoot yet and I mirror her casual posture.
“Oh,god,”Blythe gasps.“What is Hattie doing here?”
Heston’s face goes white as a sheet of paper and he about falls over his own boots spinning to look toward the door. At the same time, Blythe leans far forward with her bottom lip between her teeth. Her arm stretches out and in a flash, her ball bounces across the center line. Before it lands in a cup, I close one eye and throw mine with as much sharp precision as I can. With two almost-simultaneous plops, our shots land in two cups in the front. My eyes widen.
“GOTCHA!” Blythe squeals, jumping up and down several times. The room blurs and I realize that she’s taken my hands and I’m jumping with her. The laugh that escapes me is accidental, but I can’t stop from joining in on her infectious celebration.
I don’t know who Hattie is, but she must be someone to Heston. Blythe’s little plan worked like a charm. We’re out of breath by the time we stop jumping and I place a hand on my cheek to feel the warmth there.
It’s strange, having a girl who’s so vibrant and fun celebrate with me like we’re old friends. Something in my chest aches and I tug at a strand of my hair to bring myself out of this weird feeling that I don’t know how to handle.
Heston’s shaking his head knowing he just got bamboozled. And Warren has both hands on his hips, lips in a firm line. After shooting us a frustrated look, he turns and whacks Heston on the arm.
“Balls back,” Blythe shouts and holds her hand out above the cups.
“That’s just embarrassing,” a freakishly tall man with a dark and short trimmed beard strolls by the table. In a few long strides, he’s invaded our space and picked Blythe up off her feet so she’s at eye level with him.
“You smell like smoke,” Blythe says as she kisses a trail up the side of his neck. This must be Gage.
I feel awkward now and should probably look away, but I just can’t. The way he’s holding her looks like nothing short of a death grip and her legs are wrapped around him in such a way that even if he let go, she’d still be attached. I lean on the edge of the table with one arm, mesmerized by them and listening in on their conversation.
“I’ve been grilling.” As he says those words into the shell of her ear he squeezes under her thighs. His voice lowers and he whispers in her ear now, but it’s loud enough for me to hear. “Are you done here, or do I have to wait to eat you for dessert?”
As soon as those words come out of his mouth, my body weight collapses onto my hand and it juts off the slippery table. My elbow crashes into the remaining cups, and each and every one of them topples over like dominoes, spilling across the table and onto the floor.
“Shit,” I mumble as I right myself and try to regain my balance.
“Undefeated,” Heston says as he fist-bumps Warren and walks off, satisfied.
“Damn!” Blythe says as she wiggles out of Gage’s grasp and picks up the cups.
