“Can you please move out of the way? I’m trying to focus,” I hissed.
“I’m behind the shot. I’m hardly in your way,” he said, knowing he was getting under my skin. “Maybe it’s too much pressure, and someone should stick to making jewelry.”
Oh, no, he didn’t.
Game on, Rafael.
I pulled back, determined to sink the shot.
But the stick slipped against my fingers, and I made contact too low with the ball. I put force behind it because I knew it was going to have to move quickly to make it across the table.
My eyes widened as the ball caught air and moved like a bullet, stopping only when it made direct contact with Rafe’s groin.
Myball hithisballs.
He howled and then disappeared as his body hit the floor.
Damn it. This wasn’t good.
Everyone was on their feet, moving toward him, and I hurried around the table and winced at the sight of the poor bastard covering his family jewels with his large hands.
“For fuck’s sake, you heathen. What is your deal?” he shouted.
I bent down and studied him. “That was an accident. Did you not bring the malachite stone?”
He slowly moved forward to sit up and glare at me. “I did not bring that ridiculous rock with me because I assumed you would find a way to use it against me.”
I tossed my hands in the air. “There you go. You have no one to blame but yourself.”
“She may have a point. I took the stone off your counter, and I haven’t been injured once,” Clark said, winking at me.
“Everyone has lost their fucking mind.” Rafe pushed to his feet and closed his eyes before taking a few deep breaths, which I guessed was an attempt to brush off the pain.
He marched to the other side of the table, setting the ball that had damaged his goods down in the center, and he didn’t even hesitate. He pulled back his stick, sank the ball in the center left pocket, and dropped the stick onto the table.
“I win, Wildcat. Better luck next time.”
I quirked a brow, my gaze locking with his dark eyes. “Well, I’m still leaving with a set of balls, which is more than you can say.”
“That makes no sense. You don’t have balls,” he said, moving closer and invading my space.
“I don’t know about that,” Bridger said. “From what I can tell, this girl’s got a big set of cajónes.”
Laughter surrounded us, but Rafe’s gaze never left mine.
Game on, asshole.
five
. . .
Rafe
I’ve never iced somany body parts in my life. My throat had recovered, but my head still hurt, and my dick had just taken one for the team.
I’d do it all over again to see her little hands fist when I sank that ball in the left center pocket and she was forced to concede.
I’d been up and working from home this morning for all of twenty minutes when someone knocked on the door.
