Chapter 17
But Julian only laughed at my obvious irritation. “I think your jealousy is cute.”
“I was not jealous.”
“Mhm. Sure.”
“Whatever.”
He took a sip of his whiskey. “Do you know how to play pool?”
“Yes, a little.”
“Great. I have a suggestion.” He held up a finger in warning. “You and me, pool table number three, in five minutes.”
I laughed. “No.”
“Why not?”
“Because you’re competitive as hell and I want to keep my job.” I crossed my legs on the high stool but didn’t miss the way his gaze flicked down, observing the movement.
“Oh, you think you might actually win?”
“I set high goals for myself,” I shrugged. “Sometimes I achieve them. What can I say?”
“Then we’ll make it interesting. We’ll play for stakes.”
“I’m not betting money on this,” I scoffed. Whatever I lost would be proportionately huge in comparison to what it would be to him.
He grinned. “Don’t worry, nothing so mundane as that. No… if I win, we have a standing dinner appointment every week.”
“What?”
Julian shrugged, a wide shoulder brushing against mine. “I find you interesting and I want to get to know you better. Dinner every week would allow us the time.”Còntens bel0ngs to Nô(v)elDr/a/ma.Org
“You want dating me to be conditional on your win?”
“No.” He raised a finger at me and put on a mock stern voice. “As you told me-you want to be professional. So this is professional. Consider it… the beginning of a blossoming friendship.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Right. Well, if I win, I want to drive your car.”
“Which one?”
I rolled my eyes. “The one you bragged about the first time we met. Your Porsche.”
“You’re not planning on crashing it?”
“I promise I won’t. I just want to… take it out for a spin.”
Honestly, it was the first thing that came to mind. But the more I thought about it the better it sounded. I had never driven anything that ran as smoothly as that car would.
It felt like poetic justice.
“Deal.” Julian stretched out his hand and I hesitated only slightly before grasping it. It was warm and dry and fully enveloped mine.
“Well? Shall we?”
“Ladies first,” he grinned and grabbed our drinks from the table.
None of the others seemed to notice our departure-Josef and Rachel were deep in conversation on some new movie or another, while Trent and Sasha were battling it out at the dart board.
The pool tables were nearly abandoned. Soft indie music played from the stereo as I grabbed a billiards queue from the wall. I didn’t know if I wanted to win or if I wanted to lose-both outcomes were just as tempting
“Do you want me to show you how to hold it?”
I had to bite my lip to keep from smiling. “No. I want to start. Eight-ball?”
He shot me a crooked smile and moved to line up the billiards balls in the triangle frame. The low lighting played beautifully over his strong forearms and capable hands and I forced myself to focus on the game. Porsche. You’ll get to drive a Porsche.
“So confident. Well then, go ahead.”
I bent over and lined up my shot. He was gazing at me with hooded eyes, no doubt expecting me to fail and for the white ball to bounce uselessly against the side.
I hit the triangle dead center. The formation broke apart and three billiard balls rolled into separate pockets.
“Whoops.”
“Damn, Ace.”
“I’ll take stripes.” I lined up my next shot. As I bent over to set up the move, I shot him a sly look through my lashes. “What? Don’t tell me you expected this to be an easy win for you?”
The smile he shot me felt as intimate as a kiss. “No, I never underestimate a beautiful woman.”
I smiled and focused on the pocket I wanted the purple 4-ball to enter. Beautiful. He’d called me beautiful.
I pocketed two more balls before it was his turn. “Wow,” I remarked as he stalked around the pool table, searching for angles. “Awful many solid balls out there.”
Julian raised an eyebrow at me. “Most women would prefer them to striped.”
I rolled my eyes at him, but he only grinned, unrepentant.
He pocketed two of his own in rapid succession. There was something beautiful in watching him move, his strong arms handle the queue, the way his forearms and biceps flexed.
I was so entirely and irrationally attracted to him. Although to be fair to myself, I figured that any straight, female and with eyes would-and it seemed like he was well aware of it.
Julian missed the next shot and cursed under his breath.
“My turn now. Perhaps you should spend some quality time with the keys to your Porsche, because they’ll be in my hands soon.”
“I’m only getting warmed up,” he said. “Don’t worry, your Thursday evenings will be mine. Tell me, where’d you learn to play?”