Kristen Ashley - Play It Safe

I caught her eyes as she moved away and slightly tipped up my chin.

Then I took a sip of my Corona.

Then I looked at Cocky Guy. “Flip to break?”

“Ladies first.”

Total idiot.

“Seriously, flip to break,” I said again.

He pulled the rack off the balls and grinned. “You go, honey.”

I studied him and tried not to think of Gray watching me. But I knew he was. In fact, I knew everyone was.

As usual, I didn’t disappoint. I broke and then approximately seven minutes later, I pocketed the eight ball and there were three extremely difficult shots where I knew Cocky Guy thought he had me but I made without hesitation.

I went back to my beer and took a sip, put it down on the shelf on the wall and stated, “This time, you break.”

He wasn’t looking cocky anymore. He was looking pissed. Not only did I clear the table in seven minutes, I didn’t look at him once.

Then I moved around the table, pulling out the balls. He made me rack them this time. He moved to the head of the table, watched me and waited. I set them up, pulled the rack away and went to my beer.

He executed a solid break. Then he downed three balls. He wasn’t bad but his options dried up and he flubbed the fourth ball.

I took a sip of beer, stepped to the table and in approximately seven minutes, cleared my stripes and pocketed the eight ball.

“Fucking hell,” he muttered.

I lifted up, put the butt of my cue to the floor and said, “Best of three. Five hundred dollars.”

His eyes came to me. “Best of five, a thousand.”

Darn!

I shook my head. “That wasn’t the deal.”

“I barely got a shot in,” he returned swiftly.

“You saw me play. I offered you the flip. That’s the breaks.” I lifted a hand, palm up. “Five hundred dollars.”

His eyes narrowed and he accused, “You’re a hustler.”

He did not lie.

Still, I didn’t hustle him.

“I’m good at pool, you knew it and you made the bet,” I replied, hand still lifted. “Five hundred dollars.”

“This is stupid,” he hissed.

“Five hundred dollars, Bud.” I heard from behind me, I twisted my neck to look over my shoulder and saw that Gray was three feet away at the top edge of the platform.

“Stay out of this, Cody,” Cocky Guy warned.

“You made the bet, you lost, you pay. Five hundred dollars,” Gray stated, taking another step forward on the platform.

Cocky Guy glared at him as his brethren closed ranks.

This was not good.

Hells bells.

I felt Gray close in on my back.

Hells bells!

“Bud, five hundred dollars. Now,” he said low, his voice almost a growl, his patience clearly waning.

I wanted to look at him to assess and compare. I knew he knew this guy; they probably went to school together. But somehow his maturity and masculinity had eclipsed Cocky Guy’s about seven thousand times. He was all man. He was losing patience, this vibe filled the space and not only Cocky Guy but his buddies were all taking it seriously. They didn’t like it but they were taking it seriously.

Maybe they weren’t total idiots.

Finally, Cocky Guy muttered, “I don’t have it on me.”

“Then get it. Cash machine on the corner. We’ll wait. You’re not back in ten minutes, I’ll be collecting,” Gray returned.

Wow. That was nice.

Cocky Guy continued glaring over my shoulder at Gray then his eyes flicked back and forth between him and me.

Then he asked, “You two know each other?”

“Yeah, she’s a friend,” Gray answered instantly. “And I take care of my friends. Now, cash machine. Corner. Five hundred dollars. Ten minutes. You should be back in five.”

Cocky Guy kept up the glare to save face then he stomped away. I let out the breath I was holding. His friends drifted back to the other table. Gray took my elbow in his grip and led me to the opposite end of the platform.

When we got there, he didn’t let me go and used my elbow to position me in front of him.

I looked up.

He was still beautiful and now he looked slightly pissed, definitely impatient and that meant, as close as he was, he was even more beautiful. He was also the perfect height, well taller than me but I knew, just tipping up on my toes, I could round his shoulders with my arms. A slight bend of his neck, he could kiss me.

My palms started sweating again.

“Coat, scarf, purse, get them, get them on. Take the money, stow it and get outta here,” he ordered. “Do not delay. Walk fast, get to the hotel, chain and lock the door.”

That didn’t sound good.

“This guy trouble?” I asked.

“You know he is, dollface,” he answered quietly.

He called me dollface.

I liked that.

I swallowed.

“Okay, is this guy more trouble than I thought he was?”

“Yeah,” he answered instantly.

“Right then since I knew he was definitely trouble and not the good kind, how much more is he?”

“On the trouble scale of one to ten?” Gray asked and I nodded. “A hundred and fifty.”

That surprised me. I rarely underestimated anybody and especially not trouble.

I felt my brows go up. “Seriously?”

His face underlined his one word answer, “Seriously.”

Wow.

“You’re not getting your stuff,” he prompted, letting my elbow go.

I held his eyes then walked to the stool where I put my stuff. I pulled on and buttoned up my jeans jacket, wrapped my scarf around my neck and pulled the strap of my purse over my head.

Once I’d done this, my eyes went back to Gray who hadn’t moved. The minute they hit him, he lifted a hand, index finger extended and he moved it back and forth, indicating I should go there.

And when he did that, I knew I was definitely stupid. Not the game of pool with Cocky Guy stupid. Coming to the bar stupid. Coming to the bar to get exactly what I got. Another eyeful (and then some) of Gray.

And I knew this because him wagging a long, handsome finger at me in that self-assured, manly way of his made things happen to me I’d never felt in my life. Not once. They happened on the inside in a way that I wasn’t certain I could hide on the outside. And I also wasn’t certain if my suddenly trembling legs would keep me standing.

I went there.

When I got there, again his hand came to my elbow but this time I felt it, every centimeter. The touch was light, he wasn’t manhandling me, he wasn’t making a point. But I felt every centimeter of his fingers that were touching me.

Every centimeter.

“You and your partner didn’t leave town,” he remarked.

“Uh… he had something he wanted to do. We’re gone first thing in the morning.”

“He at your hotel room now?”

I didn’t want to share this.

I had to share this.

“Doubtfully.”

Gray studied me. Then he nodded.

Then he ordered, “Don’t leave your hotel room unless he’s with you. No visit to the diner for breakfast. Nothing. Yeah?”

Wow.

“Is he really that serious of a problem?” I asked.

“Absolutely,” Gray answered.

Hells bells.

I looked away and whispered, “Darn.”

“Dollface,” he called, my belly shifted in a way that felt really nice and I looked back to him. “I didn’t think you’d make the bet.”

I stared. Then I asked, “Sorry?”

“You were blowin’ him off. Then suddenly you made the bet. I didn’t think you’d make the bet.”

He was saying he would have stepped in if he knew I was going to give in.

This was nice too.

He was just nice.

I liked that.

Stupid, stupid me.

I nodded.

Cocky Guy showed and wasted no time glaring at us and shoving bills at me.

Gray let me go and took them.

“Good you’re just passin’ through,” he said to me and his meaning was clear. I wasn’t welcome in his town.

I didn’t reply.

I noted out of the corner of my eye that Gray was counting the money.

Then he said softly, “It’s all there, darlin’.”

I looked at him, nodded, looked down, took the money, looked to my purse and used both hands to stow it in my wallet without taking my wallet out of my bag.

Then I looked at Cocky Guy. “Nice to meet you.”

“Bite me,” he muttered and moved away.

Well there it was. Rude.

Then I looked to Gray.

“Thanks again,” I whispered.

“Get gone,” he whispered back.

Not two words I wanted him to say to me but now, essentially, he’d said them twice.

I wished I was the kind of girl who had the gumption to lean in and kiss him. Even if it was just his cheek to say thanks.

I wasn’t that kind of girl. I’d never kissed a man, never been kissed.

So I didn’t.

I just took in a deep breath and then I got out of there.

Eighteen minutes later…

“Bud, not good.”

Lying on my back in my bed in my darkened hotel room, I sighed.

That didn’t take long. I was in my hotel room maybe, at most, fifteen minutes.

And those words, said by who I knew was Gray, came from outside my closed and locked door.

“Fuck you, Cody. Go home. You don’t know this bitch. Don’t get involved.”

That was Cocky Guy.

I had the lights out. Boots on. Coat on. Baseball bat in my hand.

Casey had a gun. I didn’t do guns.

I did baseball bats.

I lifted up, throwing my legs to the side and twisting my hips. My cowboy boots hit floor silently. My hand gripped the handle of the bat tightly.