“You dated a musician, didn’t you?” Rafe asked, and the whole table turned to look at me.
“Are you stalking me now?” I flashed him my famous death glare.
“In your dreams. Clark brought theTaylor Tearag over yesterday, and she said the new girl in town is some big deal in the jewelry world and used to date that boy bander, Barrett something, so I assumed that was you,” he said, as he popped part of a meatball into his mouth.
“Beckett Bane,” Henley said, bumping her shoulder into me. “We don’t like him anymore, and they’ve been broken up for a long time.”
“Good. I never cared for his music.” Ellie winked at me.
“Why are you guys reading that trash?” Bridger grumped.
“I find it kind of entertaining,” Clark said.
“And they haven’t written about any of us in a while.” Axel held up his wineglass. “Congrats on being welcomed to Rosewood River, Lulu. Henley made it in there when she first arrived here, too.”
“I normally despise press and paparazzi, but I like the small-town gossip angle. It’s kind of fabulous.” I smirked as I raised my glass. “Thanks for having me.”
The conversation flowed, and we drank more wine and finished off the delicious homecooked meal with apple pie and whipped cream.
Archer said he was taking Melody home to put her to sleep, and Isabelle and Carlisle walked them out and said they were heading home as well. Ellie and Keaton said goodnight as they went to their bedroom to watch a movie, and Clark refilled mine and Henley’s wineglasses.
“Let’s play some pool tonight,” Easton said, and we all followed him to the large game room down the hallway. They had a pool table, a fully stocked bar, and two oversized couches that sat on each opposing wall.
We spent the next hour playing game after game, and I was in my element. I loved pool. Loved knowing how to put the balls where I wanted them to go. I’ve been playing for years, and it was a skill that had come in handy more than once. And tonight, it was a skill I was very grateful for. Rafe was by far the best player in the group, and I’d say we were evenly matched. We both knocked everyone off one at a time, as we’d played multiple games, and it finally came down to just he and I.
I welcomed the challenge.
He was a cocky bastard, the way he circled the table, studying the location of the balls and deciding his next move. He was very smooth.
Go figure.
The man oozed big dick energy, and he clearly knew how to handle his stick and balls.
Pun intended.
He almost won on his first break, as he’d been down to just one ball, and it had been a tough shot. A shot that I admittedly would have had a hard time making, as well.
But the guy wouldn’t stop talking shit every time it was my turn.
Trying to get inside my head with his annoying comments.
Lucky shot.
Easy shot.
The ball practically put itself in that hole.
That one required very little skill.
I was down to one ball on the table now. The room had grown quiet, as our heated banter had either entertained them or terrified them. I wasn’t sure.
But everyone was sitting on the couches, watching this heated battle play out.
This shot would be tricky to make. Not impossible, but I wasn’t overly confident. And I didn’t want him to get another turn, because the thought of him gloating was all the motivation I needed to walk away with the win.
I bent down, eyeing the path from the ball to the right corner pocket. I rolled my stick through my pointer and middle finger, warming it up.
The large pompous ass standing at the end of the table was distracting me, and I didn’t appreciate it.
